Bambi

You’d only planned on having a casual Thursday night catch-up with Namjoon. You’d known him since you were in your early twenties, back when you were both living in a tiny apartment, and his biggest problem was trying to finish writing lyrics before sunrise. Somehow, all these years later, your friendship had stayed the same.

When the door chimed and a tall figure stepped closer to your table, shaking off a wet umbrella, you barely looked up from your whiskey sour.

"You're late, Joon," you murmured, wiping the condensation off of your glass. "Traffic again?"

"Worse," a deep voice replied, but it wasn’t the one you were expecting.

You blinked and looked up, only to see Namjoon stepping aside. Standing behind him was Jeon Jungkook. Even dressed casually in a hoodie and a black beanie pulled low over his forehead, he somehow managed to draw attention without trying. His eyes caught the warm glow of the lounge as they met yours, studying you with curiosity.

"Y/N, this is Jungkook," Namjoon said, dropping his keys onto the table. "Jungkook, this is Y/N. The friend I told you about who refuses to let me live down my 2016 hairstyles."

Jungkook’s lips slowly curled into a knowing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He slid into the booth beside Namjoon, the leather seat shifting under his weight, but his eyes never left yours.

"Ah," Jungkook said. "The legendary Y/N. I feel like I already know so much about you."

"And I feel like Namjoon talks about me way too much," you teased, though a sudden warmth spread through your chest under the weight of Jungkook’s attention.

What was supposed to be a quiet dinner between old friends slowly turned into something else, with the night changing in a way that was hard to ignore. Namjoon, worn out after a sixteen-hour studio session, offered occasional nods and hums as he listened.

You talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You debated about what the best video games of the year were, playfully argued over the best street food, and laughed at ridiculous tour stories Jungkook told.

As midnight came and went, the lounge around you seemed to fade into the background. Every time Jungkook laughed, you couldn’t help but notice how he resembled a bunny. He leaned closer whenever he spoke, completely comfortable in a way that made you aware of just how close he was.

You found yourself noticing the little things. The faint scar along his left cheek, the subtle scent of clean fabric from his hoodie whenever he moved, and the way his eyes would briefly drop to your lips when you laughed before quickly returning to meet your gaze.

By the time Namjoon finally checked the time, blinking sleepily as he admitted he needed to get some rest before his morning meetings, the bill had already been taken care of. Jungkook had quietly handled it while you were in the restroom ten minutes earlier.

Outside, the rain had faded into a mist. Namjoon pulled you into a tired hug, mumbled a goodbye, and climbed into the waiting black van parked along the curb.

You turned back toward the lounge entrance, expecting to give Jungkook a quick wave before leaving. Instead, he was standing right there on the sidewalk, his hands tucked deep into his pockets, the warm glow of the streetlights highlighting the sharp line of his jaw.

"You're not heading back with him?" you asked, your voice barely rising above the quiet hum of the city.

Jungkook shook his head slowly and took a small step closer. The space between you grew noticeably smaller. Up close, his presence felt more intense. There was something about the way he carried himself that was impossible to ignore.

"I wanted to make sure you got a cab safely," he said, his voice lower now. The playful teasing from inside the lounge was gone, replaced by something more sincere and focused. "Or... I was hoping we could keep talking somewhere else."

You stood there for a moment, completely caught off guard, your heart beating faster than you expected. You had only met him a few hours ago. He was a global star, someone whose face was everywhere, from billboards to magazine covers, and yet standing there with you in the night, he didn’t seem like that person at all. He just seemed like someone who wanted to keep talking.

Instead of answering, a breathless laugh escaped you. Jungkook’s expression shifted, a slow smile spreading across his face as if he found your reaction unexpectedly amusing.

"Give me your phone," he murmured, stepping a little closer until you could feel the warmth of his presence.

Without looking away, you unlocked your screen and handed it to him. His fingers brushed against yours, warm and steady. He quickly typed in his number, then he handed your phone back with an easy smile, never breaking eye contact.

"Save it," he said softly, stepping back just enough to give you some space, though his gaze still lingered on you. "Text me when you get home, Y/N."

The cab ride home passed in a blur of lights sliding across the windows. By the time you unlocked your apartment door, dropped your keys onto the tray, and slipped off your jacket, your heart was still beating faster than it should have.

The quiet of your apartment felt too loud, leaving you alone with every detail from the past few hours replaying in your mind.

You kicked off your heels and made your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of ice water, but the drink did little to calm the warmth spreading through you. Eventually, you wandered into your bedroom, where the lights cast long shadows across your duvet.

You sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling your knees close to your chest, but your mind refused to settle. Jungkook’s voice lingered in your thoughts, low and unforgettable even when he wasn’t there. You replayed the way he looked at you across the booth, the quiet intensity behind his attention, and the way his shoulder brushed against yours when he leaned in to make some sarcastic comment about the bartender.

With a breath that rattled in your chest, your fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of your pants. You hooked your thumbs into the waistband, sliding the fabric down your hips and kicking them off entirely, letting the air wash over your skin.

You shifted, letting your bare legs slide open on the mattress. Your hands trembled down your stomach before pressing directly against the heat between your thighs. You were already soaked; a shuddering breath broke past your lips. Your fingers curled, sliding through your wetness to apply a steady pace against your clit. "Shit," you whispered into the quiet room.

In your mind, the bedroom warped until he was right there, shifting between your thighs. First, you imagined him slowly kissing every inch of your body, until all you could feel was the warmth that came from them. Then, you imagined him lying down, flipping you around so you could lie on him as you sucked his cock, your legs parting wider as his face hovered inches from your cunt. His hair brushes against your inner thighs before his tongue presses firmly against you.

His strong hands gripped your hips, pulling you down over him as you tasted him in return, while his tongue relentlessly sucked and licked your clit. Afterwards, when he turned you into a shaking, soaked mess, he flipped you onto your back, pushing your knees high against your chest. He used his soft tip to glide between your folds, slowly pushing into you, his voice groaning filthy words against your skin as he pounded into you stroke after stroke.

“Yeah, fuck. You look so good taking my cock. This pussy is mine to use, right?”

You could feel the intensity of him moving inside you until the pressure became blinding. And then, you felt him pull out at the very last second, his chest heaving as he hovered over you, groaning a curse before spilling hot and heavy across your stomach and breasts.

At the thought of his cum painting your body, your body began twitching, your walls convulsing. Collapsing back onto the pillows, skin slick with sweat, you stared blankly up at the ceiling fan overhead, breathless. Right on cue, your phone lit up on the nightstand, casting a bright glow across the dark room. 

You reached over with your free hand and picked it up.

Unknown: Hey, did you make it home okay?

The seven days that followed that rainy Thursday night felt mundane.

Your phone became your favourite distraction, pulling you into something that felt both exciting and impossible to ignore. Jungkook’s messages arrived at all hours, which made you worry slightly if you’d have any chance of actually talking to him.

At 2:14 AM, a text had buzzed against your nightstand: 

Jungkook: Just finished choreography practice. The whole time, all I could think about was the way you looked at me. You have no idea what kind of control it takes not to show up at your door right now.

You: And what exactly would you do if you did show up at my door at two in the morning, Jungkook?

Jungkook: Unlock it and find out. Though I promise you wouldn't be doing much sleeping.

By next Thursday afternoon, the teasing between you had only gotten more intense, filled with the excitement of what was building between you. He sent a voice note of himself humming a melody, his voice dropping as he quietly whispered: Miss you, Y/N. Can't wait to taste you again—wait. Pretend you didn't hear that.

You had laughed out loud in the middle of a cafe, your cheeks burning hot as you replied: 

You: Freudian slip? 

Jungkook: Not a slip if it's the only thing on my mind.

Still, your schedules kept getting in the way. He was caught up in studio sessions, final recordings, and choreography changes, while you were drowning in deadlines and client work. The week passed by with rushed messages and that constant spark of adrenaline every time your phone lit up with his name.

By Friday evening, you were exhausted, but there was no way you could sit still. You stood in front of your open closet when your phone buzzed on the dresser. A little too desperately, you snatched the phone.

Jungkook: Clear your schedule for tonight.

You blinked, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as your thumbs flew across the glass.

You: Is that a demand or an invitation?

A grey bubble flickered for several seconds, disappearing and reappearing as if he were rewriting the message before finally sending it.

Jungkook: A demand. I’ve spent a week staring at your name on my phone like an idiot, and if I don't get to look at you across a table tonight, I'm going to lose my mind.

Jungkook: Pick you up at eight. Wear something that makes it very difficult for me to keep my hands to myself.

You dropped your phone onto the bed, staring at it for a second as your hands still tingled with excitement. After a whole week of late-night calls and trying to find time between his schedule and yours, it finally felt like the waiting was almost over.

You turned back toward the wardrobe, your eyes moving over the clothes in front of you until they landed on the black silk dress. You pulled it from the hanger, running your fingers over the fabric. It was the kind of dress that could work for an upscale dinner while still feeling casual.

You quickly change out of your loungewear and into the black silk dress, the soft fabric making you feel more put together. After slipping on your heels, you pause in front of the mirror to take it all in. You fix your hair, let a few pieces fall around your face, and finish with lipgloss.

You look at yourself in the mirror and let out a quiet, nervous laugh. You look composed, like you have everything under control, but your racing heart says otherwise.

At 7:55 PM, your phone lights up again.

Jungkook: Downstairs.

Jungkook: Black van, tinted windows. I can’t wait to see your pretty face again.

You grab your coat and pull it over your shoulders, hiding the dress underneath before locking the door behind you. The elevator ride down feels painfully slow, each floor number lighting up one by one like it’s counting down to something you’ve been waiting for all week.

The moment the building doors open, the night air hits your skin. A sleek black van sits waiting at the curb, its tinted windows blending into the darkness around it. Before you can even walk over, the sliding door opens with a quiet mechanical sound.

The interior light spills across the leather seats, revealing Jungkook waiting inside. He isn’t dressed like he was the first time you met, hidden beneath an oversized hoodie and an attempt at staying unnoticed. Tonight, he looks completely different. He’s wearing a tailored black blazer over a silk shirt, the top buttons left undone, showing the sharp line of his collarbone.

His eyes meet yours the second you step into the light, taking in your outfit from the heels to your face. His gaze makes you want to tug his pants down and suck—

Damn, you needed to calm down.

"You're right on time," he says, his voice low in the quiet of the van. He reaches out and takes your wrist, his firm grip guiding you up and into the van.

The door slides shut behind you with a heavy thud, cutting off the noise and leaving you alone with him and his driver. You stumble slightly against the seat, but Jungkook still has hold of your wrist. Instead of letting go, he pulls you closer, his thumb slowly brushing over your pulse.

"Let me look at you," he whispers, leaning closer until his warm breath brushes against your cheek.

With his free hand, he reaches up and slowly slides his fingers along your coat, easing the heavy fabric from your shoulders until it falls onto the seat behind you. His eyes immediately drop to the neckline of your silk dress, lingering on your chest. You were glad to have that effect on him, even if he didn't know that you noticed.

"Damn, Y/N," he murmurs, sounding captivated. "If I knew you were planning to distract me like this, I wouldn’t have wasted time making dinner reservations."

You manage a smile, your heart pounding as you find your voice. "And here I thought you brought me out for dinner."

Jungkook lets out a laugh, the sound filling the small space of the van as his thumb continues its absentminded movement over your wrist. Instead of closing the distance between you, he pauses, his expression shifting into something more playful and teasing. 

With his free hand, he reaches up and gently traces the line of your jaw before tipping your chin upward. His eyes meet yours, making it impossible to look away.

"Food can wait," he murmurs, his voice carrying a meaning that sends a shiver through you. "I've spent a week wanting to see you like this, without a screen between us. We have the whole night."

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, letting the silence between you stretch before finally lowering his hand. He settles back into his seat and gives the driver a quiet signal through the partition. A moment later, the van moves smoothly into the streets.

The walk back to your apartment after dinner is slow and quiet, the two of you taking your time through the neighborhood. The brick buildings and iron gates cast long shadows across the pavement beneath the soft glow of the streetlights. For a few blocks, neither of you says a word, comfortable in the silence as your footsteps echo against the empty streets.

"So," Jungkook finally breaks the silence, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. He looks over at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Are we going to talk about how you almost choked on your food when I told you I missed you?"

You let out an offended little sound, stumbling slightly in your heels before catching yourself. "I did not choke. I just happened to have a slight breathing problem because your timing was ridiculous!"

"My timing was perfect," he laughs. "You turned completely red. And don't worry, I have the image saved in my head forever."

"If you ever tell Namjoon about this, I swear I'll make sure your next comeback has you wearing spandex and roller skates," you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jungkook throws his head back, laughing again. The sound is deeper and freer than anything you've heard from him in public, like for once he isn't carrying the weight of everything around him.

"Oh, is that a threat?" he teases. "Because I think I could be convinced if the roller skates are part of the deal."

"You're impossible."

"I'm persistent," he corrects softly.

As you turn the last corner toward your building, the teasing between you slowly fades, replaced by that familiar tension neither of you can quite ignore. You naturally drift a little closer until your shoulders brush with every few steps. His familiar scent of cedarwood and cologne mixes with the cool night air around you.

When you finally stop outside the glass doors of your apartment building, the mood shifts. The late hour suddenly feels real, along with the fact that the night is coming to an end far sooner than either of you wants.

You turn to face him, reluctantly letting go of his hand. You reach up to unlock the heavy front door with your fob, doing your best to keep your expression calm.

"Well," you murmur, looking up at him beneath the porch light. “I had a really great night, Jungkook. Thank you.”

He nodded, a sweet smile resting on his lips. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, even though you secretly regretted letting go. His eyes darted down to your lips, then back up to your lips. Your mouth was dry as you noticed him doing that.

“Of course, Y/N. This is the least I can do for you.”

The quiet sound of traffic feels far away as you stand there beneath the porch light, the space between you filled with everything neither of you has said. The polite goodbye feels wrong, you knew this night didn’t have to end, and you also didn’t know when you could see him after this.

“I don’t know about you,” you started, taking a small step towards him, his height towering over yours. “...but I’m really not ready for this night to end. Do you want to come up with me?”

"Are you… sure?" His eyes search your face, looking for any hint of hesitation. His hand leaves his pocket to grab yours again, waiting for your answer without pushing you.

"I'm sure," you whisper, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

Jungkook lets out a relaxed breath before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, smiling.

"Then lead the way, Y/N."

You turn around, reaching for the handle as you tap your security fob against the reader. The door clicks open, and you step into the lobby. Jungkook follows behind, the sound of his boots echoing across the polished marble floor.

The elevator ride to the fifth floor feels painfully slow. You lean against the cool wall, watching him from under your lashes. He stands just a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you. He doesn’t touch you, not yet, but the way he looks at you is enough to make the space feel even smaller. Neither of you says a word as the seconds pass, each one making the anticipation harder to ignore.

When the elevator chimes and the doors open, you lead him down the carpeted hallway to your apartment. Your fingers fumble with the keys for a second before it finally clicks open. You push the door open and step inside, but before you can even reach for the light switch, Jungkook catches you gently by the waist.

He kicks the door shut behind him with a thud that leaves the two of you alone in the apartment. The hallway is almost dark, lit only by the sun rising down. Jungkook gently backs you against the wall, his hands moving from your waist to your face. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones before he lightly lifts your chin.

When his mouth finally touches yours, all the nerves from the evening seem to disappear.

This kiss is different from the hesitant one outside your building. There’s nothing uncertain about it now. He kisses you with a confidence that makes your heart race, one hand resting against your cheek as he pulls you closer. A soft moan escapes you as you lean into him.

His hands drop from your face, one reaching into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold your head steady while the other grips your hip, hauling you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You hook your heels tightly against the small of his back, your fingers tangling in the silk of his shirt, tearing at the fabric as you pull him impossibly closer.

"God, Y/N," he murmurs, as he pulls back just enough to look at you. "I've been thinking about this every single day."

He doesn't wait for you to answer. Carrying you with your legs still locked around his waist, he navigates the dark corridor, his boots thudding softly against the floorboards until you reach your bedroom, falling together onto your bed. Jungkook looms over you, his hands bracing on either side of your head before sliding down to grip the straps of your black silk dress. He rips the fabric down, exposing your breasts to him.

His eyes drop down, tracking your collarbone and the plunging neckline of the dress with a predatory, starving hunger. "Baby, look at you. You look like you've been waiting for me to touch you all week, haven't you?"

"I have," you breathe out. "I thought about you. I touched myself, thinking about how it would feel to have your hands on me. I…I even thought about what it would be like if I sucked you off while you were eating me out.”

Your cheeks blushed the brightest red they ever had in your life. For a second, you almost regretted saying those words, until you saw his reaction. His pupils had practically doubled in size, and his breathing was faster than before. “God, you’re perfect,” was all he muttered before he attached his lips to yours, kissing you eagerly.

He rips the remaining silk of your dress entirely out of the way, tossing it onto the floor. His hands slide down your thighs, parting them wide as he positions himself between your knees, stripping your underwear as well. He takes off his shirt, revealing the broadness of his shoulders, along with his contoured abs. He was like a wet dream that turned human. Your wet dream.

“Get on me.”

Before you can even fully process what he said, he moves you over to the side so he could lay down, before manhandling you on top of him. Your hips rest over his shoulders, your soaked core hovering inches away from his face.

"Let's see if you can handle what you were daydreaming about," he taunts before attaching his lips to your clit, right as you undo the button to his pants, taking his cock out.

The taste of him is musky and sweet, and as you swirl your tongue over his sensitive tip, his mouth clamps down on your cunt with a suction that draws a muffled cry. His tongue traces every sensitive fold and flicking over your clit just as you swallow hard around him, bobbing your head up and down.

"Fuck, Y/N—your mouth feels so good," he groans against your thighs, his hands gripping your ass to spread you wider. "Suck it. Choke on my cock while I get you all wet."

You tighten your lips around him, milking every twitch of his cock as a wave of pleasure begins to build. Jungkook feels you come against his mouth, a moan escaping his throat as his own orgasm hits him. 

He thrusts his hips upward into your mouth, his body trembling as he shoots his cum down your throat, just as you convulse around his tongue.

For a moment, you take a deep breath in as you try to calm yourself. Gently, he untangles your legs from his shoulders, flipping you around so you could lie down and face him. Then, he positions himself between your legs, running the back of his hand over his mouth.

"Stay right there for me," he mutters, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before pulling back. "Let me see how ready you actually are."

He reaches over, sliding open the top drawer of the nightstand to search for a condom. But as his fingers push past a stack of charging cables and various items, they brush against a fuzzy texture buried at the very back of the drawer. 

Jungkook pauses, his hand freezing inside the drawer. He pulls his fingers back out, holding up a pair of bright pink, fluffy handcuffs. “Well, what is this?”

Heat rushes violently to your face, as you instantly reach out to snatch them away, mortified. "Give those back! That was a gag gift from a party years ago—"

"A gag gift?" Jungkook interrupts, dodging your reach with a laugh as he holds the cuffs out of your grasp, his eyes scanning your blushing face. "I don't think so. A good girl doesn't stash fluffy handcuffs in her bedside drawer unless she secretly wants to be tied up. Admit it."

"Jungkook, I swear to God, put them down—"

"Quiet down, sweetheart," he commands softly, the authority returning to his tone with speed. He tosses a foil packet onto the bed, sliding up your body until he cages you in again. "You've been asking for it all night with that smart mouth of yours.”

Before you can form another response, he grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning both of them above your head against the pillows. With his free hand, he snaps the cuffs around your wrists before securing it to the headboard rail just above your head.

You let out a noise, your arms stretched upward, leaving you completely exposed in your own bedroom. The restraint sends a jolt of arousal straight to your cunt, your thighs aching as you clenched them.

"Look at you," he whispers, leaning down so his lips brush against your ear. "Completely tied up for me. Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being my toy?"

"Jungkook...please fuck me—"

"Be patient, baby," he taunts softly, tearing the foil packet open with his teeth. He rolls the latex down, positioning himself right at your entrance. He teases you before pushing in, his tip rubbing against your clit to give you some more stimulation. Finally, he slides it into your wet heat.

Jungkook pauses, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his shoulders trembling as he listens to your broken gasps. "Fuck, you're so tight. You feel unbelievable wrapped around my dick, like you were built to take me."

He begins to move his hips, slowly sliding his cock in and out to punish you. All he can do is listen to the wet squelches coming from your pussy, his jaw dropping as he lets out a groan. “Shiiitt, take it, baby. You’re taking every inch like a good girl, aren’t you? Tell me how much you love my cock.”

Your hands are basically asleep at this point, but you don’t even have half a thought to care. Rolling your head back to close your eyes, you nod frantically. “Shit— God, I love your cock. I love it so much, it’s all I've been thinking about.”

"That's it, baby," he praises, his pace doubling in speed, continuing to punish you with every stroke. "Such a beautiful girl. Take my cock, take it all."

Your whole body tightens as you feel his hips moving faster, the ache in your lower abdomen slowly disappearing as you were getting closer. Your cunt clenched around him in pulses, a loud moan escaping from your lips. You were sure that your neighbours were going to hate you tomorrow morning.

Hearing your moans, Jungkook drives into you with more deep thrusts, heavy pants coming from his lips. The noises coming from his mouth were only turning you on more, your wetness dripping down onto the sheets. He pulls out of you, tearing the condom off of his length to jerk himself over you, his cum spurting all over your body. He somehow managed to get it onto your face, your eyes instinctively closing as you felt it.

Jungkook collapses, hovering over your messy body as he calms himself down. Gently, he shifted his weight to lay on his side, reaching over to the nightstand to grab the box of tissues. He wipes the cum from your face, then moves on to the rest of your body, leaving kisses along the way.

When the both of you have cleaned up, you get under the blanket, looking at him with a wicked smile. “I think, next time, those pink fluffy handcuffs are going on you.”

He props his head up on his elbow, looking down at you with an expression of utter fascination. “Is that right? You think you can tie me down, sweetheart?”

“Try me,” you challenge softly, a sleepy smirk playing on your own lips as you reach out, your fingers tracing his jaw and sliding down the muscle of his chest. “I think I could manage.”

Jungkook captures your wrist in his hand, pressing a kiss to your pulse point without breaking eye contact. “Honestly, I would let you. But only if you promise to keep talking dirty like that.”

“It’s a deal.”

taglist: @lovejeonn @kingsqueensandvagabonds

Right now, he didn’t look like a global superstar. There were no stadium lights reflecting off the silver rings on his fingers, no crowd of thousands screaming his name. He wore a faded black hoodie that smelled faintly of cologne, and his jaw was clenched so tightly you could tell he was trying very hard not to say something.

He was staring straight at you. His heavy-lidded eyes followed every movement of your pen across the itinerary, practically radiating annoyance.

"If you click that damn pen one more time," Jungkook muttered, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the engine, "I'm going to shove it down your throat."

You didn't look up, though your hand stopped mid-click. You weren't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you mad. "Try it," you shot back. "Then see how well you handle your next press conferences while eating through a straw."

"You think you're funny," he muttered. "You walk around this tour like you're some kind of military general, barking orders, checking your little clipboard, treating my schedule like a hostage situation."

"Someone has to," you snapped, finally looking up at him.

The hostility in his eyes was immediate. It was the same look he gave you every time you walked into a room.

"If I didn't treat your schedule like a hostage situation, you'd probably be playing a sold out show in Tokyo while shooting a music video in London and sleeping off a hangover in a ditch somewhere. Do you have any idea how many disasters I deal with before the sun even comes up, Jungkook?"

"I never asked you to fix anything," he shot back, pushing himself up so quickly that the bench creaked beneath him. He leaned closer, stepping into your space. "I didn't ask for a babysitter. And I definitely didn't ask for you."

"Mutual, believe me,” you held his stare without backing down. "The day the agency assigned me to manage this tour was the worst day of my career. Working with you feels like torture. You're arrogant, reckless, you treat everyone on this crew like they're an inconvenience, and your idea of professional conduct is nonexistent."

Jungkook let out a laugh, but there was nothing amused about the look in his eyes. He reached over and snatched the itinerary straight from your hands.

"Hey, give that back!"

You immediately reached for it, but he lifted it above his head, easily keeping it out of your reach. He leaned back with a smug little grin that made your blood boil.

"Look at you, so organized. So painfully uptight. You haven't slept more than four hours a night since this leg of the tour started, have you? Your shoulders are always tense, you practically live on coffee, and you look at me like you're constantly trying to figure out exactly how much poison it would take to get rid of me."

"Give me the itinerary, Jungkook."

"Make me."

You hated his voice, his face, his infuriating habit of turning every single meeting into a chess match. You hated the way he consumed every ounce of oxygen in the room without even trying.

Slowly, Jungkook lowered the itinerary and dropped it back onto your lap with a soft thud. But he didn't move away. He stayed right there, closer than necessary.

There was something restless in his expression, something you couldn't quite read. For a second, neither of you said anything. The air between you suddenly felt a lot heavier than it had a moment ago.

"We have soundcheck at ten," Jungkook muttered, his voice suddenly losing all that bite. He settled back into his seat and pulled his hood over his eyes. "Go to sleep. Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

Outside the door, thirty thousand fans were screaming his name, shaking the stadium with a roar. Inside the dressing room, the only sound was the tap of your pen.

You didn’t look up when the door clicked open, though you didn't need to. The smell of cigarettes announced his arrival before his combat boots hit the floorboards.

"You're on in four minutes, Jungkook," you said, your voice drained of any enthusiasm you might have possessed back when you first started.

Jungkook didn't answer right away. He dropped his leather jacket over the back of the couch, the studs clattering against the wood. In the mirror, he looked every bit like the tabloid monster they painted him to be. He had dark hair falling into his eyes, silver rings, tattoos crawling over his skin.

"Tell them to wait," he muttered, his voice a low rasp that usually made stadiums full of people lose their minds. On you, it just triggered a migraine.

Finally, you raised your eyes to meet his in the mirror. "The broadcast feed goes live in three minutes, and if you miss your cue again, I am going to feed your guitar to a woodchipper."

A grin spread across his face. He leaned his hips against the edge of the makeup table, invading your personal space with a brazen attitude.

"You wouldn't dare," he murmured, stepping closer until the heavy scent of his cologne wrapped around you. "That guitar has more soul than your entire staff combined."

"That guitar doesn't show up hungover to soundchecks in Berlin, and it doesn't punch photographers in Milan,” you poked a finger against his leather vest. "You are walking out that door right now, or I am cancelling the rest of the European leg and telling Rolling Stone that you quit to become a hermit."

For a second, his eyes flicked down to your hand against his vest, then slowly back up to your face. "You hate me," he said, almost fascinated by the thought.

"Every single second of the day," you replied, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Now move. Your cue is in ninety seconds."

Jungkook let out a chuckle, reaching past your shoulder to snatch his custom Fender from its stand. As he brushed past you, his shoulder slammed against yours, a parting shot of arrogance.

"Save some of that venom for later, manager," he tossed over his shoulder, kicking the stage door open to the deafening roar of the crowd. "You're going to need it."

Watching him leave, you exhaled a breath you felt like you’d been holding since soundcheck. Your fingers were trembling, just enough for you to hate yourself for it. Just two more shows in this city, you reminded yourself, staring blindly at the schedule. Then we fly to Paris. You can survive Paris.

Except you knew, with a sickening drop in your stomach, that Paris wasn’t going to change a damn thing.

The dressing room was too quiet for your liking. The scent of his cologne and cigarettes still hung in the air, clinging to your skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, running a hand down your face.

Ten months of following him across continents, cleaning up his disasters, dodging broken equipment, and pretending that the way your heart jumped every time he walked into a room was a symptom of stress.

You walked over to the mirror, the very one where you’d locked eyes with him moments ago. Your reflection stared back, but beneath the surface, you didn’t know how much longer you could keep your sanity intact.

“Save some of that venom for later, manager.”

His words echoed in the room, dripping with a promise that made your teeth clench together, your nails digging into the skin of your palm. "Asshole," you muttered to the glass.

On the other side of the door, the opening chords of Euphoria tore through the arena, a sound of electric guitar and thirty thousand screaming voices shaking the building. You picked up your tablet, checked the live broadcast cue, and forced your shoulders back into alignment.

You couldn’t wait until you could go to sleep.

You stared at the glowing monitor, your eyes burning from lack of sleep, watching the monitor replay as Jungkook hit the bridge of the final song. His vocals tore through the speakers with an energy that felt like he was trying to leave every shred of his soul on that stage.

Jungkook strode into the tour bus, not even bothering to take off his jacket, the leather gleaming with sweat under the light. His hair was plastered to his forehead in sweat-drenched strands, and his chest heaved beneath the open collar of his shirt.

"The promoter from the Tokyo leg is on line two. He’s threatening to pull the sponsorship because you injured one of the security guards while diving at the audience. Fix it."

He stalked across the bus, his boots crunching on stray guitar picks and discarded drink cans, until he reached your desk. He leaned forward, bracing his palms against the surface, invading your space like always.

"Tell the promoter he can take his sponsorship, roll it up very tightly, and shove it straight up his ass."

"I am not your messenger, and I’m not going to relay curse words to international executives," you snapped, finally whipping your head up to glare at him. "You signed a contract, Jungkook. That means you act like a professional, or I’ll start selling your guitar collection to pay for property damages."

Instead of backing away, he pushed closer. "You love threatening me, don't you? Every single day it's a new ultimatum. 'Do this, Jungkook. Don't break that, Jungkook. Stop breathing too loudly, Jungkook.' You’re obsessed with me."

A bitter laugh slipped past your lips. You stood up, even though he towered over you, your fingers curling into tight fists at your sides to keep from trembling.

"Obsessed?" You say, stepping right into his space, refusing to move away. "Working with you is a form of torture I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. You are a self-absorbed disaster, and the only reason I haven't walked out of this job and left you to manage your own life is because of my contract."

His gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, lingering there for a second too long, before snapping back up to your eyes. "A contract," he murmured, his lips curving into a smirk that reached right down to your nerves. "I didn't realize my presence was worth quite that much to you. That’s flattering."

"It's not flattering," you hissed, your voice trembling with a mix of fury and exhaustion. "It's a prison sentence."

"Then quit," he challenged. He took a half-step closer, closing the final inch of distance between you until the leather of his jacket brushed against your shirt. "Walk out right now. Leave the schedule, throw your precious little pen away, and walk out that door. Let's see how long you last."

You stared up at him, trapped by the intensity of his gaze. You wanted to scream. You wanted to grab him by the collar of his jacket and shake some sense into his beautiful, infuriating head.

Instead, you just held your ground, your voice dropping to a cold edge.

"Pack your bags. We leave for Paris in four hours," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "And try to sleep. You look like hell."

Jungkook let out a chuckle, his gaze rising over your face as if he was memorizing every line of your skin, before he turned on his heel and kicked the trailer door wide open into the night.

The flight to Paris was a fourteen-hour exercise in peace. You had booked him in first class while you wedged yourself into a middle economy seat three rows back, foolishly believing distance would offer some kind of help for your sanity. It didn’t, and even from ten rows away, you could feel his presence, like a stabbing at the back of your skull.

When the private transfer finally dropped you both outside the Paris hotel at dawn, the city was wrapped in a dull gray fog. The lobby was silent, the only sound was the sharp click of your heels against the marble floor as you walked straight toward the front desk to collect the room keys.

"One suite for the talent," you told the clerk, sliding your ID across the counter, "and a standard room for management on the fourth floor."

A heavy hand suddenly slammed onto the counter right beside yours, fingers adorned with heavy silver rings curling into the wood. You didn't even have to look up to recognize the scent of expensive leather. "Change of plans," Jungkook said, bringing his face entirely too close to yours. "Management is staying on the top floor. In the suite, with me."

You turned your head sharply, glaring up at him. He looked annoyingly refreshed, dressed in an oversized black turtleneck and dark trousers, his hair falling messily over his forehead.

"I am not sharing a suite with you, Jungkook," you hissed under your breath, keeping your voice low so the receptionist wouldn't overhear. "I value my sanity and my sleep, none of which would survive under the same roof as you."

"It's a two-bedroom suite, you absolute control freak," he shot back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "There’s a whole hallway and a solid door between our rooms. Unless, of course, you're scared you won't be able to resist me."

"I would rather staple my eyelids to my forehead.”

"That sounds messy, but if that's your thing, who am I to judge?" Jungkook turned to the desk clerk, flashing a smile that made the woman turn bright red. "Put her luggage in the suite across from mine. And send up three bottles of vintage scotch and a double espresso. Now."

Before you could argue, the clerk was already nodding quickly, sliding the heavy keys across the marble.

You grabbed the key, your fingers brushing his knuckles. The brief spark made you pull back like you’d touched something hot. Jungkook’s eyes darkened for a split second, that same unreadable look flashing through before it disappeared behind a lazy smirk. He picked up his duffel and headed for the private elevator without another word.

By midnight, the jet lag settled over the penthouse like a heavy weight, but sleep still felt out of reach. You sat at the glass desk in your room, the glow of your laptop casting a cold blue light across your face as you went over security protocols for the upcoming European festival. The place was quiet, the only sound was the dull sound of music drifting through the floor from Jungkook’s room down the hall.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

He was still awake. Of course he was, because apparently rest was a foreign concept to this man. Groaning, you slammed your laptop shut, rubbed your burning eyes, and stood up. You had warned him twice about the hotel’s noise restrictions, and if management didn't enforce the rules, who would?

You marched out into the dimly lit hallway, your bare feet making no sound against the thick rugs. You didn't bother knocking on his door; you just pushed it open. It was unlocked, which made you roll your eyes.

"Turn the music down, Jeon," you snapped into his room. "If the hotel management complains, I am going to—" The words had instantly died in your throat.

The suite was lit only by the glow of the Parisian street lamps bleeding through the windows. Jungkook wasn't blasting music anymore. He was sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, his back to you, stripped down to a pair of dark sweatpants. His broad shoulders were tense, and the ink of his tattoos was stark against his skin. He didn't turn around, but he knew you were there.

"You walk in here like you own the place," he murmured, his voice entirely devoid of its usual mocking bite. 

"Lock your door next time," you said, though you didn't move from the doorway. "Anyone could walk in here."

"Let them," Jungkook said softly. He finally turned his head, looking at you over his shoulder. In the dim light, the circles under his eyes were unmistakable, the reality of a world tour finally catching up to the rockstar. "Nobody walks in here except you anyway."

You swallowed hard, intensely aware of how alone the two of you were, completely cut off from the rest of the crew. "Do you need something?" you asked, trying to sound indifferent, though your heart was beating way too fast in your chest.

Jungkook stood up slowly, and turned to face you. He was taller than you, carrying an effortless gravity that pulled you in no matter how hard you fought against it.

He didn't yell, and he didn't mock you or call you uptight. Instead, he started walking toward you, closing the distance between you across the dark room.

"I spend every night on a stage in front of thirty thousand screaming people who think they know everything about me," Jungkook said, his voice barely above a whisper as he stopped just inches away from you. "They scream my name, they love my music, and they practically want a piece of my soul."

You held your ground, though your breath caught in your chest. "That's what you signed up for."

"Is it?" He tilted his head. Hesitantly, his hand came up, his fingers brushing against the lock of hair resting against your cheek. The warmth of his skin sent a traitorous shiver straight down your spine.

"You hate me," he whispered, his thumb ghosting over your jawline.

"I do," you breathed out, your voice trembling, though you didn't pull away. You couldn't; your body wouldn’t let you.

Jungkook let out a breath, one that sounded like a laugh. "Good," he murmured, his hand tightening slightly on your jaw, pulling you that final inch closer. 

The air in your lungs almost left your body, forcing you to remember how to breathe again. His thumb lingered along your jaw, pressing just enough to keep you still, his touch burning into your skin. You expected him to close the last bit of distance, to let everything between you finally spill over. Instead, Jungkook let out a breath that fluttered against your lips, his fingers tilted your chin upward, his thumb slipping directly between your parted lips, pressing hard against your tongue.

Your eyes widened in shock, a gasp catching in your throat. The taste of him flooded your senses as he held you still, your knees basically turning into liquid as you stood there. This wasn’t what you expected to happen when you walked in here, but a part of you didn’t mind. 

Slowly, he pulled his thumb back out, leaving your lips aching and parted, before grabbing your hand and pressing your palm against the center of his chest. "I couldn't sleep. I tried. I sat here staring at the ceiling until my head felt like it was going to split open. And the only thing keeping me awake, the only thing I've been thinking about for the last three hours, was you."

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling instinctively against the cotton of his sweatpants as. "Jungkook, don't."

"I was sitting on the edge of that bed a minute ago," he continued, completely ignoring your words. "My hands were shaking. I was about to touch myself, thinking about the way you look at me, the way you hate every word I say and still refuse to back down, the way I want to tear all of your clothes off."

Your cheeks burned hot, your breath catching in your throat as your mind scrambled to process what he was admitting to you.

"You're out of your mind," you whispered. "You're exhausted, you're jet-lagged—"

"I am completely sane for the first time in months," Jungkook interrupted, his voice dropping to a pleading whisper. He stepped closer, pressing your hand harder against his chest until you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. "I don't want to sit in the dark and pretend I don't care. I want you to help me."

"Help you?" You let out a disbelieving laugh, your eyes widening as his demand settled over you. "You want me to…stand here and watch?"

"No, I want you to touch me. I want to see if you hate me as much as you say you do when your hands are all over me."

You were his manager. The one person standing between his career and complete self-destruction. If you crossed this line, there was no going back, no pretending it was just stress. And yet, looking up at him now, seeing the reckless attitude stripped down to something that almost looked like need, your resolve started to crack. 

Your hand didn’t pull away from his chest. Instead, slowly, like you weren’t fully in control of it, your fingers slid higher until they settled on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles beneath your palm.

Jungkook’s hand slid into your hair, gripping at the nape of your neck with a quiet urgency that made it impossible for you to pull away. Then, his mouth met yours with a hard kiss. His breathing was ragged, as his other hand slid down your spine, tracing the line of your posture before pressing firmly into the small of your back, arching you entirely into his frame.

He pulled back just enough to break the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His chest rose and fell hard, and when you met his gaze, his eyes were blown wide, filled with something between disbelief and something close to satisfaction. “You’re shaking.”

"Shut up," you whispered, your fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him back down to your mouth.

He caught your waist, lifting you, and backed you up against the glass of the windows. The contrast of the coldness against your back and the heat of his body pressing you forward sent goosebumps down your skin. He slid his thumb deep into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue while his other hand kept you situated against the glass. You sucked his thumb, heat pooling in your lower stomach. He watched you closely, sliding his thumb in and out.

"Suck it, baby," he said softly, his voice thick with arousal as he watched you take him in. "You love being a good girl for me, don't you?"

Withdrawing his thumb, he left your lips slick and swollen. He shifted his grip, carrying you away from the window and toward the bed. He laid you back against the cool sheets, his tall frame settling immediately between your thighs, trapping you. His hands moved feverishly, stripping your pyjama top aside, then immediately taking his off too. 

"Jungkook, please," you choked out, your hands flying up to grip his shoulders as his mouth moved over your neck.

"Please, who?" he teased, his teeth grazing hard enough to leave a mark, his hands sliding down to grip the elastic waistband of your pyjama bottoms, tugging them down and throwing them aside. "Say my name. Tell me what you want, sweetheart."

"Jungkook—please, God," you sobbed out, your hips bucking as the rush of cool air against your warm body made you shiver.

He moved down, letting kisses linger over each part of your body until he was facing your aching cunt. His fingers ran down your soaked panties, rubbing circles over your clothed clit. A whimper escaped your mouth, your hand covering it to keep yourself quiet. Before you could prepare yourself, he moved your panties aside, lapping your wetness up entirely.

"So fucking wet," he murmured against your skin, his voice vibrating directly against you before his mouth closed over you entirely, sucking at your swollen nub.

You clawed at the sheets, your back arching off the mattress as he devoured you, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you prisoner to his mouth. Every time you tried to pull away, his tongue stroked deeper, drawing out every gasp and whimper until your vision blurred.

"Look at you, coming apart for me," he murmured, pulling back for a second, his lips completely covered in your slick. "You like that, don't you? You like knowing you belong to me right now?"

"Jungkook—I'm so close—"

“Come for me,” he said before plunging his tongue back, circling and tracing your clit to get you to finally come. With a gasp and a shiver, you rode the peak of your orgasm, grinding your hips up and down his face.

Jungkook finally lifted his head. In the glow of the street lamps, his face was flushed, and his dark hair was a messy fringe across his forehead. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his eyes locked onto yours. “You taste amazing. God, look at you shaking. You like that, don’t you?”

Before you could catch your breath or find the voice to argue, Jungkook crawled up your trembling. He caught your face in both hands, his thumbs stroking your flushed cheekbones before crashing his mouth down onto yours in a bruising kiss.

He tasted like you, but at this point you didn’t even care. Before you could get more kisses in, he pulled away from you, sliding his hands to his sweatpants to tug them down, along with his underwear. He was big, which you never doubted even just by looking at him.

"Look at me," he commanded. He braced himself back over you, pinning your body down once again. “You think you’re done, baby? You think that you get to come and I don’t? Stupid slut.”

He wore a wicked grin as his hips rolled forward, sliding his cock between your soaked folds. A gasp hitched in your throat, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. "Jungkook..."

"Shh, don't talk. You've spent months barking orders at me. You don't get a say anymore, cause now you’re just going to take whatever I give you, isn’t that right?"

Before you can argue or whine, he pulls back slightly, a rough chuckle escaping him. “Stay still for a second.” 

His eyes scanned the floor beside the bed where your pyjamas lay discarded. With a reach, his hand snatched up your panties, dangling them briefly in front of your face before a wicked glint in his eyes. “I want to see what you're like when you’re not talking.”

He gathered the soft fabric and shoved it firmly between your lips, pressing it back against your tongue to muffle the gasp that tried to escape. You choked around the barrier, your eyes widening as Jungkook leaned down.

"Bite down on it. Be a good girl and keep quiet for me while I ruin you."

With your noises trapped and muffled, he didn't stay on the mattress in missionary. Instead, he caught you by the waist, flipping you over so you were forced onto your hands and knees against the mattress.

With a push of his hips, he slid inside your cunt. A muffled moan pushed past your lips, desperately trying to escape past the gag. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he panted, taking a deep breath as he tried to calm himself. "Every time I had to stand on that stage and watch you look at me... this is all I wanted to do to you. I should’ve just forced you to choke on my cock this entire time.”

He reached around, one hand tangling in your hair to pull your head up, while his other hand found your nipple, squeezing and pinching the sensitive flesh as he drove into you harder, faster.

“Take it. Let everyone know how much of a good slut you are for me. Keep tasting yourself against that gag.”

"Mmm—ghh—" you sobbed out, your body trembling as his hips stuttered at a brutal pace. 

“Come for me again, sweetheart," he praised, driving into you from behind. "Show me how helpless you are when you're not being a bitch.”

As it hit you again, a gush of your cum dripped down, painting his length with a creamy whiteness. Before the tremors had even begun to fade, Jungkook grabbed your waist, pulling you down flat onto your back once more, hooking your legs over his shoulders so your thighs rested flush against your chest.

"We're not done, little whore. You're going to stay on my cock until it’s the only thing you can remember in the dumb brain of yours.”

He pulled entirely out before slamming back inside you, the new position driving him deeper than before, hitting a spot that made your toes curl and a fresh whimper tear past the silk gag. His hands grabbed your jaw, squeezing your face as you shook.

"Look at me, you dirty little thing," he panted, his voice breaking as he neared his own edge. "Look at who owns you. Look at whose cock you're taking like a good toy."

The last bit of your restraint snapped, your walls convulsing as you clenched around him. If it weren’t for the gag, you were sure the entire hotel could hear you. Jungkook buried himself deeper, his eyes rolling back as he spilled himself into you.

For a long while, you could only feel his heartbeat against yours, sweat leaking down your body. Jungkook collapsed against your chest, taking a moment to rest before slowly taking the silk gag out of your mouth. He threw it onto the floor before shifting to wrap his arms around you.

Your cheek rested right over the thump of his heartbeat. All the exhaustion of the few months seemed to melt away under his arms.

"Hey," he whispered against your hair. You blinked sleepily, looking up at him. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

I'm sorry," he murmured again, his thumb gently brushing away hair from your cheek, tracing your skin with a soft touch. "For the shouting, for the impossible demands, for making every single day feel hard. I was just... I was losing my mind trying to get you to look at me as anything other than a job."

A tired smile touched your lips, your hand reaching up to rest against his cheek. “You certainly have a way of getting my attention. But, I forgive you.”

“Thank you. I promise I won’t act like that ever again,” he says, with the gentlest smile you had ever seen on his face.

Nodding, you rest your head back onto his chest, your eyes closing. Despite all the arrogance and fighting, you realized that he was also just a human, an idiotic human trying to get your attention.

Somehow, you didn't exactly mind it.

taglist: @lovejeonn @kingsqueensandvagabonds

The heavy studio door clicked open, a head of brown hair peeking through.

"Oh, perfect, you're still wrapping up.”

You turned to see Yeonjun stepping into the room. He was holding two iced Americanos, flashing a friendly smile straight in your direction. As label-mates who were often in the building, he and the other TXT members would often show up to steal your advice on choreography or to just talk.

"Hi, Yeonjun-ah," you said, offering a smile as you grabbed your sweat towel. "What’s up?"

"I was practicing in the studio and thought of my favourite choreographer," Yeonjun said, his eyes bright with affection. "Are you too busy? I was thinking we could head out and eat some tteokbokki! It’ll be my treat, noona.”

Before you could open your mouth to answer, a heavy arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your back flush against a familiar chest. A chin rested comfortably on your head, and a voice that you’re very familiar with vibrated against your back.

“Sorry, Yeonjun-ah,” Yoongi apologized smoothly, his tone remarkably calm. “She’s going to be busy with me after practice. And everyday after that.”

Yeonjun’s eyes were as wide as saucers, darting between where Yoongi’s hands were anchored to your waist, his head slowly nodding. “Oh! Oh. I understand, sorry.”

You interrupted before Yoongi could say anything, nudging him with your elbow, shoving him off of your body. “Yeonjun-ah, it’s alright. Not a lot of people know, and we’re trying to make sure it stays that way for a bit.”

Yeonjun nodded his head, bowing slightly before standing up straight again. “That’s understandable, noona. I’ll get going now, it was nice seeing everyone!” 

The heavy studio door clicked shut behind Yeonjun, leaving silence in its wake, at least for about three seconds.

Then, Jin lost it completely, letting out a cackle. Jimin and Taehyung doubled over, slapping the floor in absolute delight, while Jungkook leaned against the wall, shaking his head with a wide grin.

"Smooth, hyung," Jungkook called out, crossing his arms. "Real casual. Did you practice that in front of the mirror this morning?"

Yoongi’s ears flushed a bright red underneath his cap. He scowled, sinking slightly back into his shoulders as he glared at the members. "Shut up. All of you. Go home."

"Ooh, scary," Hoseok laughed, grabbing his gym bag and tossing a playful wink your way. "Goodnight, noona! Goodnight, Yoongi-hyung, try not to scare any other dongsaengs!"

Within minutes, the rest of the group grabbed their belongings, trading teasing waves and laughs as they filed out of the room, leaving the two of you entirely alone. The automatic lock on the door engaged with a thunk.

You turned around, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Well. That was certainly a subtle way to handle it, Yoongi."

Yoongi groaned softly, running a hand down his face before letting his arms drop to wrap around your waist, pulling you back against him with a much softer grip than before. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

"I didn't even yell," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "I was polite."

"You looked like you were ready to fight him over a cup of iced Americano," you teased, your fingers tangling into his hoodie.

"He called you noona with too much enthusiasm," Yoongi muttered, pressing a kiss right over your pulse point. "And he wanted to take my girlfriend out for tteokbokki. I had to establish some boundaries."

You let out a laugh, tilting your head back so he could continue to litter kisses over your skin. "You're lucky Yeonjun is nice, or our secret would have been on the internet in an hour," you pointed out, though a fond smile played at the corners of your lips.

"Let them find out," Yoongi murmured softly, his thumb tracing circles against your hip. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Let’s go to my studio.”

When the heavy door of the genius lab clicked shut, you didn’t let Yoongi move. You pushed him against the door, which he allowed obediently. 

Even despite his taller height and the muscular build he kept carefully hidden beneath his hoodies, Yoongi never minded when you pushed him around a little. In fact, the sudden flash of aggression made his cock harden.

"Feisty," he murmured, as his hands immediately found your waist, pulling you to him. "Careful, baby."

"Shut up," you breathed out, your fingers curling into the soft fleece of his hoodie, bunching the fabric up as you hauled him down to your level.

You bit down playfully on his lower lip, drawing a groan straight from the back of his throat. Yoongi’s fingers tightened on your hips, his thumbs digging into your waist as he eagerly met your aggression, his tongue sweeping past your teeth.

He shifted his weight, his shoulders pressing further into the door frame. One of his hands slid up from your waist, tangling into the high ponytail on your head, yanking your head back to expose your throat.

Yoongi didn't hesitate. He abandoned your lips, his mouth immediately dropping to the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing over your pulse point, drawing a breathless noise from your lips.

"Mine," he purred against your skin. "Every single person out there saw how I looked at you, but none of them know what you sound like when you're falling apart under me."

“I’m yours,” you gasped, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his shoulders. “I’m all yours.”

Wrapping an arm beneath your thighs, he hoisted you into the air. You locked your ankles around his waist and wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you across the studio. He aimed for the couch, placing you down. He caught himself on one elbow, his free hand tangling into your hair, tilting your head back to claim your mouth again.

"You think you can push me around and get away with it?"

His fingers trailed down from your neck, tracing your collarbone before hooking into the neckline of your shirt. With a tug, he lifted your shirt and threw it away, exposing your black bra to him. He leaned down as he bit and licked at your skin, his hands reaching behind you to unclip the bra.

He shifted his weight, his knees sliding between yours to part your thighs wide, settling comfortably. The friction of his clothes against your clothed cunt was horribly sweet, but it wasn't enough. You reached up, your fingers bunching at the hem of his hoodie, dragging it up and over his head in one motion. He cooperated, lifting his arms to let you strip away the barrier, revealing his chest and the sharp lines of his shoulders.

Yoongi let out an approving hum, leaning down to press a path of kisses down your stomach. His long fingers reached up, moving past your stomach to tease your breasts, pinching at your nipples to get them stiff.

“Baby, please. Don’t tease me; I need you.” You whined, your hands gripping the couch beneath you.

He laughed at your whining, his tongue poking out to lick at your hip, while his hands continued pinching. “You’re so needy, baby. Maybe I should make you watch as I touch myself. I’ll make myself cum over your pathetic face, while you just lay there.”

His words sent another gush of wetness into your underwear, your hips rolling to try and relieve the ache. You didn’t doubt his words for a second, knowing just how mean he could get if he wanted to get his point across. 

“You won’t do that to me,” you argued, looking down at him with defiance in your eyes. “You’re too obsessed with my pussy.”

"You're pathetic when you're like this," he scoffed. "All rude because I won't give you what you want right this second. Just because I told you to wait." He shifted his weight slightly, rising up on one arm so he could look down at you with a hooded stare. 

"And don't think I won't do it," he continued, his voice dropping into a threat that left zero room for argument. "Keep complaining, and I’ll pull out my cock right now. I’ll sit right here, wrap my hand around myself, and make you watch every single second of it. I’ll paint your pretty face with my cum, and you’ll take it because you’re a good slut.”

The filthy picture he painted in your mind hit you. The image of you lying beneath him, completely bare, forced to watch him cum while you sat with an unfulfilled ache, made your cunt throb.

"Please," you choked out, your voice cracking under the weight of your arousal. "Don't make me watch... just fuck me, Yoongi. Please."

A smirk spread across his lips, satisfied that he got rid of every last drop of your brattiness.

"Good girl,” with a swift motion, his hand hooked under your shorts, along with your underwear, and tore them down your legs. He didn't waste another second before positioning his face lower. In an instant, his tongue was attached to your clit, sucking and licking it.

You let out a gasp, your fingers flying to tangle in his dark hair, trying to keep yourself from losing your sanity completely.

"Look at you," Yoongi murmured against your skin, making your body twitch. “You’re so fucking wet for me, it’s unbelievable. What would everyone think if they saw how much of a desperate toy you are for me?”

Before you could form a response, his tongue swept upward in a slow stroke. He devoured you with a thoroughness, his fingers parting your folds while his tongue flicked over your swollen bundle of nerves. He dragged his finger down, rubbing circles before moving down to push inside your hole, thrusting it in you.

Your back arched as your fingers curled tighter into his hair, blindly trying to pull him closer even as the intensity of his touches were slowly about to make you cum.

"Don't you dare look away," he growled against you, before his mouth clamped down with a suction that stole the remaining oxygen from your lungs.

“Oh, shit! Yes, yes, yes!”

He alternated between punishing laps and sharp pulses of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, his thumbs pressing hard into your skin to hold you completely still. The sound of your whimpers mingled with the wet sounds of his mouth, echoing off the soundproof walls of the studio.

"Yoongi—please—I'm going to—" you sobbed out, your vision blurring at the edges as your body began to tremble.

"Do it," he commanded, his voice encouraging against your skin as he sped up his pace, giving you zero room to think about anything else. "Come for me, baby. Show me how much you love it.”

The release hit you hard and fast. You rode the peak of the orgasm, your limbs shaking while Yoongi kept his mouth locked to you, tasting every aftershock.

For a moment, the only sound in the studio was your breathing. Your limbs felt like jello, while Yoongi slowly shifted upward, refusing to give you a second to recover.

"Open your eyes for me," he commanded softly. You forced your lids open, meeting his gaze. "You're going to take every single drop of me until you can't remember anyone else’s name."

Hurriedly, he stripped his pants and boxers off, his cock slapping against his pale stomach. Yoongi’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you right to the edge of the leather couch. With a shift, he positioned himself between your thighs, his length pressing against your wet entrance.

"Look at how soaked you are for me," he taunted, his thumb pressing down into your slick core before sliding away just to tease you. "Every time I get mean with you, this is what happens. You get wet, and you wait for me to fill you up. Right?"

"Right," you breathed out, your voice a trembling whimper. "Yoongi—please—"

He didn't offer another warning. With one thrust, he buried himself. Yoongi groaned low in his throat, an appreciative sound that vibrated. He pulled back just enough to look down at you.

"That's a good girl. Clench around me. Let me feel how tight you get when I'm balls-deep inside you."

He pulled back and drove right back into you. The leather of the couch groaned under the force, the slap of skin against skin and the gasps echoing through the room. He hit every right angle, driving deep enough to make your legs shake.

"Look at me. Tell me who owns this tight little pussy."

"You do," you sobbed out, your vision blurring at the edges as a second orgasm began to coil. "Only you—fuck, Yoongi, harder!"

Even as you came around his cock, he continued to drive his hips forward. You could feel him throbbing inside you, your eyes shifting away from his face to look down at where the two of you were connected.

Whispering, he leaned down to nibble at your ear. “You like that? You like knowing I can stretch you out?”

Without forming a response, you nod your head desperately, moving your eyes back up to look at him. 

"Beg for it," he groaned, leaning down so his lips brushed your ear. "Beg me to cum inside you. Tell me you want my baby, tell me you want to walk around tomorrow morning with my cum leaking down your legs so everyone in this building knows who you belong to."

"Please—please cum inside me, Yoongi!" you screamed, your fingers clawing at his back. "Fill me up, make me yours—"

That broke whatever remaining control he had. With a moan, Yoongi buried himself as deep as he could possibly go, his thrusts turning harder. Your walls clamped down around him, milking his cock.

"That's my girl," he panted against your skin, his voice rough as he pumped his cum deep into your core.

For a few quiet moments, the only sound in the studio was the rise and fall of your chests, the hum of the audio monitors, and the slow cooling of your overheated skin. You lay curled against him, your eyes heavy with exhaustion and your muscles completely tired from the intensity.

You thought it was over.

Yoongi shifted. He rolled off you, but instead of pulling you into his arms, he caught you by the hips and flipped you onto your stomach. 

"You think we're done just because you came? You think a couple of rounds wipes the slate clean after you let a boy flirt with you?"

A gasp escaped your lips as you hit the cushions face-first, your arms sinking into the leather. Before you could even blink or process, his weight settled over your back, pinning you down against the couch. "Spread your legs. Wider. Let me see everything."

You obeyed instantly, your knees parting as your hips sank down into the couch. Yoongi let out a laugh, his hand coming down with a slap against your bare asscheek that left a mark on your skin.

"So obedient, such a good little slut when you're forced to remember who owns you. Look at you, dripping all over the cushions like you can't survive five minutes without me inside you. Without my cock filling you up, what are you even good for?"

"Nothing," you gasped out, tears of overwhelming arousal pricking at your eyes. "I'm nothing without you, Yoongi—"

His fingers dug into your hips as he positioned himself at your entrance again. "Tell me how desperate my little whore is to get fucked from behind. Tell me how you're going to walk around tomorrow morning wishing you were full of my cum again."

"Please, fuck me, Yoongi, please ruin me—"

A moan was muffled by the leather as the new angle hit you all at once. Yoongi didn't hold back, his hands locking onto your hips with a tight grip as he pulled you back to meet every stroke. Your fingers clawed at the leather of the couch, desperately trying to find something to hold on to.

"Look at you," he panted as he slowed his pace. "Taking every single inch of me like a good girl. Does it feel good knowing you're completely full of my cock? Does it make you wet knowing how pathetic you are for me?"

"Yes, oh god, yes!" you sobbed, your hips pushing back against him on pure instinct.

"Yeah, keep moving for me," he commanded, his hand snaking down your stomach, rubbing circles against your clit. "Show me how desperate you are. Every time another guy looks at you, every time someone even breathes near you, you remember this. You remember who owns you. Right?"

Nodding your head frantically, you move your head to look at him over your shoulder. His hair was clinging to his forehead, small sweat beads dripping down onto the couch. “I’m yours, baby. Fuck, don’t stop.”

He rewarded your plea by changing the pace again, turning it into a deep grind that made your vision swim. He moved his hands back to your hips, tilting you just right so his cock dragged over every sensitive inch inside you.

"So tight," he muttered, sounding almost angry with how much control you had over him. "Clench around me. Let me feel how hard you're squeezing my cock."

"Yoongi—please, I'm right there—" you begged, your voice breaking into a whine.

"Not yet. Look at how soaked the cushions are underneath you. You're a mess. My messy little toy."

The combination of his words and thrusts finally broke whatever spell he had over you. Your body convulsed under his, legs shaking as you tried to keep yourself up.

"Yoongi—I'm coming!"

"Come on, let me feel it," he murmured, his thrusts turning sloppy as he drove into you harder, chasing his release. "Cum for me."

Your walls clenched around him, a noisy moan slipping past your lips. Yoongi pushed as deep as he could go, spilling inside you for another time as his entire body shuddered against yours.

For a minute, all you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat. Yoongi also didn't move. He stayed buried inside you, his sweat-slicked body framing your back, his face pressed into the crook of your neck while his arms wrapped completely around your waist, keeping you against him.

Slowly, the racing of your pulse began to settle. The orgasm faded, leaving your limbs feeling thoroughly spent against the cushions. The chill of the air-conditioned room started to creep over your overheated skin.

With a reluctant groan, he slid slowly out of you, the emptiness making your sensitive core ache. He pulled you backward until you were resting flush against his chest, sliding an arm underneath your shoulders to cradle you. His other hand came up, his fingers carding gently through your hair, moving the strands away from your damp forehead.

"Hey," he murmured softly. He pressed a kiss to your temple, then another to your cheek. "Are you alright, baby?"

You let out an exhausted huff, leaning your head back against his shoulder. "You're crazy, Yoongi," you whispered, though there was no real bite to your words. "Absolutely crazy."

"I'm just protective," he corrected softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your shoulder. "You know how I get when other guys look at you. I hate it. But you're always so good for me, even when you're being a brat."

He pressed another kiss, this time right over the sensitive mark on your neck, his lips lingering against your skin as if he were offering an apology.

"I love you," he whispered, the words slipping out almost as if he couldn't help himself.

Warmth bloomed in your chest, cutting through the exhaustion. You turned your head, pressing a soft kiss against his wrist where it rested over your heart.

"I love you too, Yoongi," you murmured back, smiling faintly into the dark.

taglist: @lovejeonn @kingsqueensandvagabonds