Archive of Our Own

Your whole body burns beneath Jungkook’s hands.

He’s wild. Restless.

His nose is buried in your neck, breathing you in. His harsh pants coasting along that spot right behind your ear.

You're trapped against him where he’s pulled you onto his lap. Spread open by his thighs underneath your legs, swaying against the heat of his palms coasting desperately up and under your loose shirt.

You shouldn’t be doing this here but you can’t find it in you to detangle your hands from his hair where your arms are wrapped around the back of his neck.

Jungkook’s hips move underneath you, shifting up, and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

You clench around nothing, aching for him.

“Baby,” Jungkook groans into your neck. “I want you so bad.”

You pull his head back to meet his eyes. They’re wide and pleading, and you feel his gaze everywhere.

“You have ten minutes to be in places.” You say.

He sighs, eyelids drooping, his eyeliner making the look even more suggestive than it needs to be.

Your voice is thin, breathy as you respond. “I’ll be here after the show.”

Jungkook’s hands continue sliding up your back, one braced across the dip of your spine, and the other slipping beneath the band of your bra.

You sway like a reed backwards, arching against him. Your body is liquid in his hands.

They’re probably searching for him right now.

His ear pieces are in a tangle around his neck so he can’t hear, but you have no doubt, the crew is calling for his attention.

Jungkook moves his hips again, tilting his pelvis up into you, and you nearly bite your tongue on a gasp.

“I want to feel you wrapped around me.” He tilts his chin up. “Now, baby.”

“Jungkook-“

“I’ll be fast.” He blinks. “Promise.”

His eyes are screaming with impatience. Dark glassy pools intent on dragging you in.

He makes you so wet it’s almost unfair.

“Please.” He says, the word trembling and deep in the back of his throat.

His hips jerk up, the muscles of his abdomen flexing beneath the gaps in the mesh of his shirt.

“Y/N-“

Long, tattooed fingers snap in front of your face, level with your eyes.

“Y/N.” Jungkook’s voice is cool. Nearly emotionless. Penetrating the fog around your head and snapping you back to attention.

All of the noise starts the filter back in.

The dressing room beneath the stage is a cacophony of organized chaos. The crew moves faster and faster as time ticks down for the start of the show; stylists flock to each member of BTS, fluttering around them for last touches. Crew hover around the edges, giving them water, fans, even a last minute accessory. Feet away, the technicians race around checking equipment, and everyone talks over each other, both through headsets and person to person.

It’s like there’s a hive beneath the stage.

The magnetic energy before the performance will continue to build and build like this; warm up is over, the sound check went smoothly, and everyone is filled with the thrum of anticipation.

Everything is centered on the axis of the seven men about to take the spotlight. Even the barely muffled pulse of the audience above will rise and fall in their wake.

The atmosphere is so jarring you almost reel back.

That’s when Jungkook comes into sharp focus in front of you. Compared to the tempest around him, he seems to breathe in slow motion. One of seven absolute centers in the chaos.

He’s sitting in front of you, slouched back in his makeup chair, legs spread wide and inviting-intimidating. The material of his pants, black cargos for the opening number, hug his thighs in a way that you shouldn’t be focused on.

He’s nearly ready for the stage; hair tossed artfully over his forehead, skin makeup-smooth, and just a hint of eyeliner darkening his gaze. The shine of his eyebrow piercing matches the heavy chains around his bare throat, and his earpieces rest innocently against his collarbone.

You swallow.

Somehow he still looks poised. It’s the energy in every breath that never quite goes away. It’s in how his body is coiled. How he shifts the sole of his boot against the ground impatiently. The intensity in his eyes as he stares up at you.

It feels like he takes up much more space than he actually does. Before a show, Jungkook’s always larger than life.

The only imperfection on his face right now is the slight crease between his brows as he examines you.

He moves his hand back to the arm rest, fingers curling over the edge roughly. You're guessing this isn’t the first time he’s tried to catch your attention.

“What are you doing?” He asks. His tone is neutral and isolating, but you can still feel the agitation in it. It’s as clear as a bell.

You’re wasting time. You have minutes left until he has to take his spot on the riser, and you need to do your fucking job.

Heat erupts and collapses through your body, burning through every thought. Embarrassment, shame, fiery need-

The pressure of his fingers against your skin.

It was all in your head. He’s never touched you that way.

And he never will. You remind yourself.

Your fingers clench tighter around the fresh batteries in your hand meant for his mic pack.

Jungkook blinks haltingly, the bow of his lip accentuated in his slight frown. “I’m beginning to think zoning off is your job.”

His eyes drag over you, thoughts floating like syrup, heavy behind his eyes. His focus is torturous as direct as it is.

He pays zero attention to the hurried moment of those around him: fingers from behind lightly adjusting his hair, the stylist plucking at the collar of his shirt, someone else adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves gently. People weave around the two of you like a timelapse.

Sometimes you wonder at the necessity of such alterations; he’ll be dancing soon, with so much power that all other meaning will fade away. All these little details will be taken over by his ferocity. This particular look is not one of composure either; mesh and cotton hang in tatters splashed across his chest already.

Jungkook hums, arching a sculpted eyebrow.

The melodic notes finally unlock your limbs, making you lurch forward to complete your task. You present the batteries palm up like he doesn’t know why you’ve appeared in front of him.

This is routine by now. Fuck.

“Sorry.” You say. This setting calls for speed, not daydreaming. You’re grateful you checked everyone else’s packs first, because with Jungkook, you always seem to pause.

He nods in acknowledgement.

“Three minutes!” Someone calls. A ripple of urgency weaves through everyone, your own heart rate increasing with the call. Jungkook looks like he might burst with energy, but he’s forcing himself to stay still. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

Today, his pack is already clipped to his belt. He stands, his presence flooding into yours in a single breath. It feels like you're underwater, but you still force yourself into focus, reaching forward. The familiar movements anchor you.

Jungkook’s hand hovers away from his side, and he angles his hips to give you room, but he’s not focused on you anymore. His eyes hold that familiar far off stare, his mind is somewhere else this close to the spotlight. Lyrics, choreography, melodies, ARMY…

You access the pack easily, hiding the tremble in your limbs as your hands find their way beneath his tattered shirt. You feel for the pack, and slip it off the strap easily. You squint for the little bars of green against black that let you know it’s full of energy. Then the little blue light on the top that indicates a working connection to the microphone.

You try your best to not feel the thrill beneath your skin as you reattach the little black box, everything in working order. You check the band next. Out of necessity your fingers slide against the hot skin of his stomach and waist as you readjust the strap around his hips.

It feels wrong to cherish the moment your skin connects, but it’s hard not too: your incessant fantasies throwing themselves to the surface. You can feel his inhale, the spasm of his muscles against you.

You suck in a sharp breath. Jungkook is watching you now, expression pinched in consideration.

“All good.” You say, arms falling to your sides.

You clutch the unnecessary batteries like a lifeline, and step back, eyes coasting over his body before you can refocus on his face. This is usually the extent of your interactions with him.

He hasn't walked away yet.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, and you’re pretty sure it’s a rhetorical question.

His lips twitch up, nearly imperceptibly but your focus narrows in on his expression-pinpointing the curve of his mouth and spark in his eyes. They drip with laughter.

Adrenaline shoots through you, and you stand up a little straighter.

What’s so funny?

“Two minutes!”

Jungkook breezes past you, and your focus bends to the impression he left behind.

Jungkook leans over you, a solid presence invading your space. A hot hand at your hip, shifting to the arch in your spine. The other firmly in your hair, tugging harshly.

He’s got you soundly pinned between his body and the wall. He tilts his head, the arch of his eyebrows draw down over his burning eyes, before he kisses you so harshly your head spins, and you have to hold onto him for support.

His mouth is hot on yours, like everywhere he touches always burns. His tongue sweeps inside of your mouth, sending euphoria through your body like an electric shock. His teeth click against yours as he moves, feverish against you.

Your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt where the patterned silk material of one of your favorite costumes flutters around his waist, to pull him even closer. You can’t help the whimpers that escape your throat in the milliseconds he gives you to breathe. You're drowning against him like you always do.

Jungkook drags your hips forward into his, one of his thighs slotting between yours and pressing up. Your legs clench together around him, and you can feel his muscles flex in response.

He grabs one of your hands, guiding your palm down to his stomach, then lower, over his leather pants where you can feel the outline of him against you. Another rush of warmth hits you like a drug.

Your fingers curl, searching for the zipper, still distracted by Jungkook’s hot breath in your mouth. Even the sensation of him smirking against your lips is enough for you to feel nearly limp against him with bliss.

When the only barrier between you is his underwear, and you begin to map his shape with your palm pressed flat against his cock; his lips part with a broken moan into your mouth.

The noise gives you goosebumps. Wetness pools in your underwear, the kind only he can be responsible for.

Jungkook tilts his head back, exposing the long column of his throat, and thrusts his hips forward into the pressure of your hand. You itch to put your mouth against his skin. To map his trail of moles with your tongue.

His hand slides back to your hip, and your lips part for him as he tugs on your hair. Jungkook’s eyes are intense, unnerving, as he meets yours, and his lips curve up cruelly. He leers in the most treacherously seductive way.

“You want me.” He says, and it’s not a question.

Jungkook’s got you trapped in every sense of the word so you have no choice but to sink deeper into the pressure of his body.

“You’re an idiot if you think I didn’t notice, baby.” He says, eyelids drooping as your thumb hooks into the band of his boxers.

A crease forms between his eyebrows.

“You need to pull yourself together.” He pants between gritted teeth.

“-pull yourself together.”

You blink.

“Y/N!” Someone grabs your shoulder, “are you even listening?”

“What?” You ask blearily. The world comes back into sharp focus; noise penetrating the fog in your head once again with a violent impact. It feels like someone’s just dumped a bucket of ice water over you.

“Get to the sound booth. They’re asking for you-30 seconds til start.”

You jerk. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, and you’re weaving through the rest of the crew quickly.

Dammit.

Again.

You're probably getting more obvious by the day. It’s only been seconds but it feels like you’ve lost so much time.

Not that your task right now is prolific enough to impact the performance. After organizing and rechecking the mics and packs before the show, you’re typically assigned a variety of small jobs assisting; fetching water and running around beneath the stage for whatever they need.

Essentially, during the show you're the reserve standby for the sound crew. But they always need more hands, so you're kept relatively busy.

Time passes slowly, but at the same time, the show feels unbelievably fast. You don’t see Jungkook much in the middle. Just during the quick changes, when head sets and hand mics are being exchanged. It’s so frantic during those moments you thank god that’s not when you find yourself slipping into distractions.

There isn’t much time to focus on Jungkook during. You're grateful, otherwise you're sure you would have been fired a long time ago. Thirsting over BTS is exactly what they don’t want the crew to be doing, because of course, it could cause complications.

Your favorite part of the night is after the show. Things are slower, not by a ton, but enough that the entire atmosphere is different, especially if they’re staying at a venue for multiple days. If that's the case, like tonight, there’s more downtime, and the members often stay to soak up any leftover energy they can.

Tonight, BTS has sprawled out on the couches and chairs set up in their dressing room. They’ve changed into their casual clothes, and their packs and headsets are already in their personal cases by the mirror. All that’s left for you to do is pick them up, though you find yourself lingering at the edges of the room.

Despite the calm and relative quiet, the air still crackles with the energy of satisfaction. The performance was brilliant today, like everyday, but this is one of those times that the members feel that fact acutely. When they linger after shows they all feel a bit unchecked and excited, brimming with something that’s just begging to spill over.

Jungkook especially, who’s currently taking up an entire couch himself, laying back with his hands behind his head like he’s still soaking up the stage.

At this point his hair has been thoroughly tousled, and his skin glows under the light. The combination of leftover makeup and sweat only highlights his beauty. He’s worked hard tonight, but he still doesn’t look satisfied, and his eyes search the distance like he’s reliving everything.

Something you’ve learned since you started working for them; BTS are always hungry.

Your eyes stick to Jungkook like magnets as you pile equipment into your arms. You only turn your back to the lounging members for a moment as you check the counters again.

For that moment though, you let yourself believe Jungkook’s eyes are actually on you. Just for a second, just one breath of being cast in a spotlight that leaves a hot streak of adrenaline burning beneath your skin.

You imagine his gaze tracking you as you move around the room and the thrill of his eyes on you, scanning up and down your body, his tongue prodding lazily into his cheek.

His focus is entirely on you as he slouches back against the couch, his own hand trailing up the inside of his thigh in a provocation. Fingers smoothing temptingly over the creased fabric directly over the bulge in his pants. His eyes droop seductively, and your muscles burn with tension.

He licks his bottom lip, and you draw in a sharp breath. Because he’s looking at you.

Jungkook’s staring at you.

You nearly drop everything on the floor.

He’s actually looking at you. He’s actually looking at you!

You don’t think you’re breathing. He’s still laying down, head braced on his arms, and his eyes are lazy and dark, but they’re focused.

You're frozen.

It's not like he hasn’t looked at you before, but this time, something’s different. It’s not in the rush before a show, and it’s not one of the brief glances afterward. It’s lingering. This time it looks like he’s starving. Like his hunger for the stage; his greed for the fans, has dissolved into something else.

Arousal pools like honey between your legs.

Focus. You chant in your head.

You’re at work.

Focus-On the way one of his hands slides slowly down over his chest and stomach to play with the hem of his shirt. Your jaw drops.

Jungkook’s boot thumps heavy on the ground as he plants one foot by the couch.

You jolt forward. The muffled talking of everyone else in the room pressing on your ears. Your skin burns with embarrassment, and Jungkook tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow; as if to chastise. His fingers flex against his stomach, curling beneath the edge of his shirt.

You can’t stop staring at his fingers. The ink on his hand that ripples across his skin.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows.

Like your whole world hasn’t narrowed to the way your muscles clench around the deep tone of his voice.

No one’s paying either of you any attention but he might as well have just called across the room for all his accent does to your nerves. There's something there that makes it seem like he’s not actually relaxing on the couch though, and instead like his hands are on you as he whispers directly into your ear.

He widens his eyes suddenly, innocent, shining, and it catches you like a fly on a honey trap. Fuck.

“I asked you a question.” He says, with a wicked twitch of his lips.

Is he teasing you?

You wouldn’t be able to tell at the moment. Not a thought has entered your brain since he started speaking, or maybe even looking at you like that.

His fingers peel back the fabric of his shirt an inch, and you search for the sliver of skin at the V of his hips like it’s your religion, but he smooths the fabric out quickly.

“Distracted again?” He asks.

Your throat clicks on a swallow and you nod, quite literally unable to do anything else. Because you feel fucking insane right now.

“Use your words.” He orders, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Yes I am,” You say quietly. “Sorry.” You clear your throat.

Is this another dream? You bite the inside of your cheek, and Jungkook purses his lips in thought, his eyes bright and intense dragging up and down your body. So torturously slow you shift in place.

“Mmmm.” He hums and you can feel the vibration of his voice deep in your stomach. “I thought so.” He laughs, low in the back of his throat, and his hand falls away from his shirt to sweep over his thigh, before he sits up.

He stands.

Shame pierces your chest like a spear as Jungkook once again regards you with laughter in his eyes, looking down on you like he’s deciding if he should humor you or not.

The previous burning heat in his eyes is gone, like maybe you just imagined the whole thing. And now you're completely still as he approaches, like he’s a monument, and you deserve to be ground into the dirt beneath him.

That doesn’t change the fact your underwear is soaked through beneath your jeans.

He reaches for the pile of things in your arms, cluttered together in your tight grip, and pressed against the rise and fall of your chest as you try to take deep breaths.

“Here,” Jungkook says, speaking loudly like his airy words are meant for the whole room, “let me help you.”

“You don’t have-”

His knuckles press into your diaphragm as he leverages the equipment from your arms. And God. The thin material of your shirt does nothing to stop the heat of his fingers from sinking into your skin. The contact only lasts a moment as he scoops the cases easily out of your hands.

You feel the hot drag of his knuckles trailing down even after he pulls away, and you shiver, goosebumps painting the skin of your stomach beneath your shirt.

What the fuck-

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, “let’s go.”

You have no choice but to follow him out into the nearly empty hallway. Your head is reeling as you walk a step behind him in the narrow space, equipment stacked at intervals along the walls.

You try to fit the events of the last few minutes into an order that makes sense.

Jungkook’s footsteps in front of you echo down the hall, and his shirt hangs loose around his frame but you still watch the way his shoulders ripple beneath the soft cotton.

You feel a brief stab of guilt though, if you were actually doing your job, he wouldn’t have to do this. You think to protest again, but just as you open your mouth he pauses, and you nearly run into his back in surprise. He smells like clean laundry, and sweat from the performance, and you find yourself taking another deep breath, drawing him into your lungs.

He sets the equipment down on one of the crates braced against the wall and turns, squinting down at you.

“So, tell me.”

“What?” You look down at the equipment in confusion, then back at him.

He smirks. “What are you always thinking about when you stare off into space?”

Your eyes dart to his lips.

How your mouth would feel against-

“Nothing,” you say quickly, “It’s usually not like this,” you swallow, “I swear it won’t happen again.”

He can’t know.

He ignores your non answer. “What do you think about?” He asks again.

You, you, you-

“Uh,” you stumble over the words, as Jungkook remains unmoved. “My weekend plans.”

He steps forward. “What plans?”

“I’m going to watch a movie.”

“Don’t lie.” He says, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

The vitriol in his eyes banks for a split second though. “You’re not in trouble.” He says, voice a shade softer and infinitely more hypnotic.

Jungkook takes another step closer, so you’re nearly boxed into a makeshift corner between the wall and a large case.

“I just wondered.” He enunciates each word slowly, examining your face. His breath coasts across your cheek, and you blink.

Jungkook dips his head down, tilting to the side so your noses don’t collide because he’s suddenly so so close.

So close you feel each centimeter between you like a physical touch. The space between you hums with energy. Imaginary fingers trace the curve of your neck and you feel it like a remedy.

“You wondered…?” You ask.

“I wondered,” he says, “if you wanted a taste of the real thing.”

Panic, embarrassment, alarm bells, ring, in your head. Heat flares in your stomach.

“I don’t know what you mean-“

He cuts you off, “You know, it’s really obvious when you stare, Y/N.”

He can’t possibly know.

“I don’t.”

“Stop lying,” he says.

A moment of tense silence passes between you. You give in easily. “Fine. I stare.” You say, “but that has nothing to do with this-“

“When you stare at me,” Jungkook goes on, gesturing down his body with one hand. “You get this look on your face.” He lifts his head like he’s imagining it, soaking it in, “it’s actually pretty distracting.”

Your blood rushes beneath your skin. You hang on to his every breath.

“It’s almost…” he squints in concentration, then his eyes light up and your heart skips a beat, “orgasmic.”

Your mouth opens in shock.

Jungkook’s gaze pins you to the wall, and there it is again, flickering in the depths of his eyes; that same hunger.

“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asks.

You think you’re dreaming.

You want him to do all sorts of things; play your body like an instrument, fuck you raw for the first time, keep you tied to the bed like his own personal play thing…

You want him to use you to get off whenever and wherever he wants too, and to find sick enjoyment when you squirm.

Actually revealing this information to him though? Never.

Never never never.

“What if it’s not about you?” You ask, the tremble in your voice carrying no real bite.

The reality is, your body is buzzing with something that only comes with his proximity. Maybe your intention is to provoke him, you have no idea, but your words aren’t coming out like you want them too right now and you have no defense.

He barely reacts. “That’s cute, baby.” He says casually.

This time he watches you shift in front of him in response. His eyes catch on every breath with greedy satisfaction, on the way your knees nearly buckle at the nickname. He notices too much.

“If it’s not me, who is it?” He demands.

Again. Again, you pause like an idiot. You can’t focus, you can’t think. You can’t even carry your own equipment from one place to another apparently.

Think.

Jungkook moves slowly, when you don’t answer, like he’s daring you to stop him as he breaches the space between you, lightly carving a path down your neck with the tip of his finger.

You pause, your whole body shifting and reforming around the sensation. His touch is so light you can barely tell if it’s real.

Until he hooks two fingers in the collar of your shirt, tugging it down so the fabric stretches uncomfortably over your shoulders.

His palm flattens against you as he flexes his wrist and pushes the heel of his hand directly between the swell of your breasts over your shirt. His hand molds to your flesh like it was made too as he forces you to retreat until your back is firmly pressed against the wall.

You can’t breathe.

Jungkook’s thumb nudges into the underside of your breast, heavy and aching around his touch. But the sensation that has you moaning low in the back of your throat, is the way his fingers, still hooked into your collar, have slipped beneath the band of your bra.

His skin is right up against yours, and it’s driving you wild. You’ve all but confirmed it with your reaction too.

Okay, he knows.

He knows.

Fuck.

He smiles in lazy satisfaction.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, his smirk, and his eyes and his voice making you want to sway towards him.

“Yes,” you pant, your chest heaving against his hand, “obviously.” Each breath has you pulling in more and more of his intoxicating scent, and you feel weak with it.

What’s the point in pretending now?

“Hmm?” He sounds amused for a split second, his eyes glinting before they’re consumed with an undeniable want.

Then his hand slides up to your neck, and his lips are on yours, warm and punishing.

And everything else.

He kisses like he’s fucking you already. Like there’s nothing in the world but your naked bodies moving together. Like he has you spread wide open on his sheets, and you're already soaking his cock.

His other hand finds your hair, and tugs at your roots, forcing your head back against the wall. You sink into it, pliant in his grip and matching his pace. But you don’t know what to do with your hands.

Jungkook’s usually so inexorably off limits but he takes another step forward as if to tempt you.

He’s ruined you for anyone else, and you’ve barely even been given a chance to savor the press of his tongue in your mouth before he pulls back.

His lips are shiny and red as he considers you for a long moment without words. He’s holding you still in his arms, head tilted harshly upwards. But after his hand tightens a fraction in your hair, he releases you and steps back, half a frown pulling at his mouth.

Jungkook’s eyes are blown wide as he cocks his head like he’s curious. He grabs your hand, flattening it against his collarbone beneath his own.

“You can touch me.” He whispers low.

You feel like you’re in a trance.

You feel his stare intent on your face as you track where he guides you across his own body. You can’t make yourself meet his eyes.

He applies firm pressure, running your palm across his chest so you can feel his heart beat, strong and steady beneath your fingers.

“Do you prefer me in tight clothes? Or loose ones?” He asks, and he’s teasing you, but you think you can detect more than a hint of true curiosity in his tone.

You press your lips together, “both.” You whisper. “Any.”

His shirt creases and tightens over his skin as Jungkook drags your hand down, the fabric pulling taut across his chest.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it mattered.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “As long as you got to look.”

His stomach flexes beneath your palm and your own chest tingles with echoes of your frantic pulse.

“Yeah.” You agree. “Yeah.”

You feel his laugh against your fingers.

Then Jungkook moves your hand right up against the waist line of his cargo pants, lifting the fabric of his shirt with his other hand so you can slip your fingers right up against his lower stomach.

“Do you like touching me here Y/N?”

You nod. He breathes deeply and his stomach moves, you press harder, and his shoulders bow forward over you like he’s savoring the sensation.

“Is that your favorite part?” He asks. You can hear him swallow, “the only time you’re allowed to touch me? When you adjust my mic…”

“It’s not that obvious.” You say.

“But it really is, baby.”

The way he’s speaking nearly into your ear you don’t want him to stop.

Your eyes dip lower, beneath his waistline, and his fingers tighten around your own, as he suddenly drags your hand over his belt.

“What about this?” He asks roughly. Guiding your hand across the top of his thigh.

You inhale sharply. He keeps going.

“Your eyes always seem to get stuck-“

Jungkook’s legs spread and inviting in his chair backstage, the casual way he readjusts his hips, tilting them up-

He moves your hand again so it’s directly over his cock and his next words sound viciously satisfied. “Right, here.”

You’re pretty sure you’re dead.

You feel like you can suddenly see the fuzzy edges of everything in front of you moving. Like you stood up too fast and now the world feels unreal as a result.

You’re dreaming.

And Jungkook’s hard and aching beneath your hand.

He guides your fingers over the entirety of him, torturously slow, and you bite your lip at his size.

He feels bigger than you were expecting. Not that you were expecting this.

You can’t help thinking about how he’d feel inside you. How you’d need to force yourself to relax and bare down on him until he could fit. You squirm against the wall behind you.

You want it. Badly.

Jungkook’s nose brushes yours again. And you get out one word, thick and heavy with lust; “Jungkook-“

Before his lips are crashing into yours again and your body is being forced hard into the wall. You grip at his shoulder for balance, fingers digging into hard muscle, and running up to wrap around the back of his neck.

You tug at his hair to pull him closer and he hums in satisfaction, sliding his free fingers across your stomach.

You shudder, a full body spasm that has your toes curling against the floor.

Jungkook ruthlessly pins your hips back, and rubs against your pubic bone through your pants. You groan into his mouth and feel the bite of his teeth as he smiles.

He knows what he’s doing, messaging you through your jeans with his thumb digging into the soft flesh between your hip bone and where you actually, desperately, want him.

Jungkook shifts his hips into your hand, and red hot want saturates every fiber of your body, like you’ve just been doused in the sweetest syrup.

After breaking apart for a staggered breath, Jungkook shifts his attention to your neck. He releases your hand, freeing it to trail all over him without restraint, in order to pull you to his mouth.

Your back arches off the wall as he sucks at your skin. It feels like he’s trying to paint you with dozens of shades of blooming purple.

You grab at his shirt desperately, lifting it up to trace over lines of smooth muscle, and doing nothing but shifting against him as he leans further forward and yanks at your collar. He stretches it obscenely until your bra is partially exposed.

“Purple?” He mumbles into your skin as his mouth trails down.

Down dangerously close to the lavender lace covering your chest.

“What?” You ask, your voice coming out half indignant, half breathless. “It’s my favorite color.”

“Nothing,” he says, the heat of his breath on your skin making you dizzy. “It just makes sense.”

You hear seams splitting as he yanks your shirt down harder. The collar is fucked, and you purse your lips in a frown.

“You could just take it off-“ you say, and immediately the hand that was gripping the injured fabric slides rapidly up your stomach beneath to push the bottom hem up underneath your chin.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as your skin is exposed, but you have other things to think about quickly as he begins licking over your nipple through the lace.

Your arms clamp around his shoulders and head, keeping him firmly in place, as he sucks a wet spot.

You curse loudly. And Jungkook has to steady you with another palm against your hip.

“Wow,” he says, voice muffled against you a bit strained. “I didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”

“What do you mean?“

“I was curious.” He says. Then he’s licking a stripe up your chest.

Your elbow hits the crate next to you, and you wish you could control your limbs with a little more tack, but your whole body is trembling.

Jungkook finds your nipple again, biting you through the material and another rush of wetness pools in your underwear. Your body jerks, and you clamp your lips together to keep another noise inside.

You pant through your clenched teeth, and Jungkook’s fingers finally rub against you, dragging the seam of your jeans right up against your clit perfectly. Your hips cant towards him and you clamp your thighs tight around his hand.

He moves to your other breast and sucks hard, this time.

You groan, eyes fixed dazedly on the opposite wall of the hallway.

The hallway.

Where anyone could walk by, and hear and see-

“Wait,” you plead, “wait, fuck,” you gasp, and it it’s a shame your so close to that edge. “Jungkook-“

You beg for his attention, his urgency, but you know you aren’t helping, you’re still holding him tight to you. You don’t want to let go.

You force yourself too.

“Someone could see-or hear-“

He groans low in protest, and your stomach flips at the way it feels against you.

“You can’t be quiet?” He teases, raising his head and looking at you with wide eyes.

“We’re in a public hallway.” You say, breathing hard.

His hand is still clamped between your legs, and you squeeze your thighs together involuntarily. There’s no doubt he can feel your frantic pulse there, clear as day.

The look on his face tells you he’s still considering damning the consequences, and you have to force yourself not to give in to the look in his eyes.

Jungkook’s scent still penetrates your nose with every breath, and you want to stay stuck against this wall if only because that means he won’t move away yet. You want to, but-

“Jungkook,” you say plainly, and it’s like his eyes come back into focus, “If I’m caught, I could be fired-“

“Fuck.” His forehead drops against your collarbone and you feel pinpricks of comfort, instead of heat this time dancing down your spine.

“Sorry,” he says softly after a moment,“fuck,” he noses into your chest, “I didn’t think about that.”

He breathes in deeply, pressing a quick kiss to your skin before he extracts himself, lowering your shirt back down so you’re completely covered, and stepping away. He looks so steady in front of you. So sure, and your chest squeezes with desire.

Then he brings the hand that was stuck between your thighs to his face, and inhales deep.

Jungkook’s eyes flutter closed, and when they open again they’re sharp on you.

He’s fucking filthy.

You don’t think you’ve ever been more turned on in your life.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks.

You raise your eyebrows in question.

“I’ve been wondering about you for weeks.”

“You’re lying.” You say.

Jungkook smirks. “No,” he says firmly, and his tongue prods against his cheek.

The silence between you is more tempting than ever.

You can’t kiss him again in the open.

You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.

“C’mon,” he says, fingers clamping around your own as he drags you quickly down the hall.

Jungkook pulls you through the first door he sees. It’s another lounge, nearly identical to the one the other members occupy.

You can barely find it in yourself to look around just in case, as Jungkook directs you over to the leather couch at the center of the room.

He pushes you down until you’re laying back against the wide cushions, then he steps away, dragging a chair close, and spinning it to face you on the couch. He steps around it.

“Take off your pants,” he says, standing over you, “now.”

You scramble to comply as he reaches for his belt, undoing the front of his pants efficiently before he sits down right in front of you on the chair. Spreading his legs out and leaning back like you’ve watched him do so many times before.

What…?

You shimmy your pants down, peeling them off your legs until they’re on the floor at his feet.

“Underwear too.” He says, running a finger back and forth beneath his lower lip as he watches.

Your skin is hot, as you slip your thumbs beneath the band at your hips. You steal yourself, and before you can hesitate you drag them down.

You glance at the trace wetness on the fabric as you pull them down and quickly kick them over so Jungkook can’t see your shame soaking through the material. Still, it’s obvious how turned on you are now that you’re completely bare.

You fold your legs together and you can feel your arousal sliding between your thighs.

Jungkook clicks his tongue. You look up to see him glance at the door, then back at you. Then he runs the heel of his palm over his cock like he can’t help it. It strains against his underwear, and you gasp as your attention narrows to that point.

“You want to give me a show?” Jungkook asks, all dark stares and sultry tones, that send fingers of heat straight through your core. “I think it’s only fair.”

“Fair?”

“Of course,” he sighs casually, “how many times have you gotten off on thoughts of me?”

Your skin flushes hotter, and his eyes glaze with a hunger that echoes in your own chest.

Oh my god.

He looks down, at where you’ve automatically folded your hands over your lap, and he licks his lips.

“Let me see.” He says, and your legs fall open for him easily. Automatically.

“Fuck.” He bites out, and red rises against his neck; his face flushing a delicate rose as he stares. You watch his fingers running over the head of his cock beneath his underwear, and he sucks in air through his teeth harshly.

Your hand slides against your inner thigh, anxious for friction, shameless beneath the heat of his gaze. Your fingers stop an inch away from your arousal.

Jungkook breathes heavily, the skin of his face and neck shining with sweat, the build up of heat finally obvious to you on his face. “Show me.” he grates out.

Your fingers slide across yourself easily; you barely need to circle your entrance before thrusting inside. Of course you wish your fingers were thicker, longer, his- and you tilt your head back to breath through the intensity of his eyes on you.

“Like this?” You ask, and your voice comes out deeper than you were expecting.

Jungkook nods, then he leans forward, and his hand slides beneath your knee; his touch makes your rhythm stutter, and you both hear it as the wetness leaking around your fingers makes an obscene noise.

Jungkook bites his lip, and guides one of your legs up so your foot is braced against the couch and your hips are forced to tilt forward slightly, exposing you even more fully to him.

You fold your lips around the noise that sneaks out of the back of your throat.

Jungkook leans back again to look at all of you. “Keep going.”

The pressure of your fingers doesn’t feel like enough anymore when he’s sitting right there in front of you, but you keep pushing deeper, as deep as you can go, as you increase your speed.

“Have you imagined this before?” He asks, and his brows pull together in concentration as you add another finger, and clench down hard around yourself. He curses. “You’re soaked.” he says with wonder.

You think hard. “Not exactly…this.” It’s difficult to focus.

You’re both breathing with open mouths now, too worked up to even think of composing yourself, he still manages to raise his brows in question. It’s like you can hear his voice asking ‘what then?’ and you might half believe his face is completely innocent, if it weren’t for the way he was touching himself; slow and tortured. You might even describe him as restrained.

Your eyes map his entire body, but again they stick to the apex of his spread thighs, where his fingers are working against himself, rubbing through the thin fabric of his underwear.

“Usually, I imagine-” You start, “You pull me into a supply closet before a show.”

You look around, and he dips his chin in acknowledgement, entertainment dancing in his eyes, tongue sliding against his lip ring. Because he did that already-

You continue, “Then you hold me down,” you're surprised that your voice is this steady, “against anything-the door, a wall, because you're so desperate for it.”

Jungkook hums. You watch a bead of sweat drip down his neck. “And then?” he pants.

“I want you fuck me raw.” You say. And really, you're begging.

Jungkook groans.

Your voice catches. “I need to feel you come inside me- and you need to feel it too.”

“Why,” he says, and it sounds like the air has been punched out of him. He swallows. “Why do I need to feel it?”

You whine desperately, you're right on the edge, but for once, your fingers just aren’t enough. It’s not enough.

He lowers his voice into a smooth purr like he can sense how close you are. Like he already knows what you need, and is holding back. “Why, baby?”

“So,” You choke, “so, you can stay inside me for the whole show.”

“Oh, fuck.” He plants both palms on his upper thighs and his chest heaves with air, as he tips his head back to the ceiling.

“Can I see?” You breathe out. You're focused on the shape of him, left straining through his underwear.

He smirks, and pressure coils tight and hot in your gut. You run your thumb in tight circles as he lifts his hips up, like you’ve watched him do maybe too many times. He pulls the band of his boxers down.

Your lips part in surprise. He’s even bigger than you thought.

“How long have you been dreaming about this cock?” He says, smoothing his fingers over the weeping head before wrapping them around the base.

Your other hand climbs its way up to your chest, and you pretend it’s Jungkook’s as you circle your nipple through your bra. The sensations from earlier still fresh on your skin.

You pick up your pace again, curling your fingers. But It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

“Hmm?” He tilts his head to the side, eyes pinned hungrily between your legs.

Your skin sticks to the couch beneath you, “since-“ you try to remember, the pressure in your stomach sits like an anchor, keeping you stuck on the same wave of pleasure that just hasn’t quite broken yet.

It feels like it’s always been this way with Jungkook. He’s just always had this effect on you.

“Since I first saw you.”

“Yeah?”

Your voice sounds hollow, “yeah.”

Jungkook leans forward. “You want it?”

You nod and he reaches towards you, tapping the back of his knuckles against your exposed inner thigh like he’s testing your reaction. You bend forward desperately at the contact, leg jerking, before he lifts his fingers and takes it away.

You frown, about to protest, when he moves his hand up higher, and flicks you sharply with his middle finger.

It’s more shocking than anything else, extra stimulation on your already shredded nerves.

You pant, and he smooths over the spot with his thumb. You groan, and your pace stutters, then his fingers are on your wrist.

He guides your hand, and the pressure is unimaginable, for one, two, three, thrusts, then he’s dragging your hand towards him and you’re empty.

Your head drops against the back of the couch in frustration. “Jungkook-“

His tongue slides between your fingers, and your body twitches. Your head snaps up, and you feel like covering your face in shame but you can’t find it in yourself to look away as he cleans your hand.

Jungkook’s eyes flick to yours, as he sucks on the tips of your fingers

Jesus Christ.

He sets your hand down, then his fingers are on you, gliding through your wetness and finally, finally, pressing inside.

You clench your teeth together in a high moan, and your hip protests as your legs fall open wider to give him more access.

His fingers feel so good. Long and firm, stretching you wide.

“That’s it.” Jungkook soothes, easily mimicking the pace you just set, though, with more force.

It’s perfect.

Your fingernails dig into your thigh, then you’re gripping his arm as his fingers curl, applying just the right amount of upward pressure to force you to clench around him.

“There it is.” He says lightly.

And you’re gone, the tension in your body snapping like a rubber band, while Jungkook works you through it.

He gives you a moment to breathe, one where he examines your face, sliding his fingers out and trailing them down your thigh. When you finally release his arm, he pulls away to coat himself with what’s left of you on his hand.

Your foggy eyes track his movement, and you swallow around a dry throat, heat pouring through your body.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours and he stands, bending forward and bracing a hand behind your head, to give you a quick kiss on the lips that lingers, warm and heavy against your mouth.

Your lips smack as he pulls away and then both of you are moving quickly. He kneels at the end of the couch, hand still wrapped around himself and you reposition, turning and sliding backward so you’re laying down fully, head by the low armrest.

You spread your legs wide again, and Jungkook crawls over you. His nose trails up your stomach, and between your breasts, and he leaves a trail of burning heat wherever his lips touch, even through the thin material of your shirt.

He traces the line of blooming marks he left up your throat, then your lips connect again, and he uses the new angle to absolutely destroy you.

He has you arching off the couch to chase his mouth when he lifts his head even an inch, and you moan unrestrained into his mouth. The hand he’s not using to hold himself up kneads into one of your breasts and you squirm beneath him.

His hips rock forward, and you feel him flush against you, the bare head of his cock prodding you in a way that makes you gasp into his mouth, dizzy with lust.

You shift your hips to meet him and he groans; you feel the rumble of his voice deep in your chest. Your thighs clamp around his hips, and he pulls away to look you in the eyes.

You want, you want, you want.

“Now,” you breathe, demand, “now.”

“Greedy.” He sighs, but his eyes look a little bit wild.

“Yes.” You say, “because I’ve been waiting.”

He huffs a laugh, but he reaches between you to position himself right against your entrance, narrowing his eyes in concentration and rubbing himself up and down to gather your wetness. The sensation sends a shudder up your spine.

As soon as he starts to push in, the air is punched out of you, and you have to force yourself to relax. The stretch is satisfying, but he feels so big.
You wheeze at the feeling of him, and his thumb slides up to message your clit. Your muscles are clenching all over the place.

“Fuck.” You gasp out, you feel lightheaded.

“Breathe, baby.” Jungkook says, and you inhale with him. Once. Twice.

“Good.”

You want to writhe around, feel him deeper, but you just keep clenching uselessly around his cock as he pushes in a little further. Stars dance behind your eyes.

He hooks a hand beneath one knee, and presses it up towards your chest. He slides forward again and your muscles burn. You’re so wet, it should be an easy motion, but the adjustment to his size is what has you going crazy.

“Almost there.” Jungkook says.

“Oh.” You say, half dazed, half shocked, losing your train of thought “Feels good.” You say. “It’s-feels big.”

Jungkook’s mouth is open, he licks his lips like he’s in a daze.

“Jungkook.“

“You can take it.” He whispers, like he’s possessed. You clench down on him hard, and he curses.

“Breathe” He says again, squeezing your thigh.

Then he brings his hand back down to message you as you draw him deeper and deeper. He lets his head drop and dark strands of hair fall over his forehead in a way that makes you want to grip his hair and pull.

It feels like you’re losing your mind, you can’t reconcile the way he feels inside you, your muscles won’t release. It’s like you simultaneously want to pull him deeper and keep him still.

Jungkook’s fingers press into where you’re stretched around him gently and your stomach clenches.

“You’re too,“ it’s hard to breathe, “big.”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, applying firmer pressure with his fingers. He sinks deeper.

You whimper at the stretch, it feels like he’s everywhere.

“Does it hurt?” He asks.

And you have to think for a second. You decide it’s more overwhelming than anything, and you shake your head. “It’s good.” You breathe, “I just.” You say, “I want.”

“Oh,” he says, “so you’re impatient?”

“No.”

He presses harder with his finger tips, and you can’t stop the noise that escapes your throat. He looks down, where you’re connected, then meets your eyes.

“Trust me,” he says, smug, “the way you’re sucking me in, you’ll make it fit.”

“God.” Your body is buzzing.

“I know.”

He smirks, then tilts his body forward at the same time his fingers slide back up to your clit. You cry out but he swallows the sound as your lips connect. He licks into your mouth and you’re lost in him again.

Every breath you take it’s just him, him, him. His smell, his weight against your body, the heat of his skin, the way his cock sits heavy inside you.

The way you need him to fill you up.

Your hips tilt to meet his, and he moans low and satisfied as he finally bottoms out.

You breathe and his cock brushes against every nerve inside you. It’s so intense it nearly has you tumbling over the edge again, and he’s barely moved.

As it is your coasting on a near constant wave of simmering pleasure. Jungkook’s raised your threshold, and ruined you for anyone else in the process.

He rocks gently forward and you both groan.

His fingers brush against your cheek and then he’s pulling back for more leverage, to bend your body in half with a slow shallow thrust. Your mouth opens in a silent gasp, and he does it again, slow and controlled with a rough flex of his hips.

Your hands move from the couch to his back to brace yourself, and every heavy breath of his pours into your own mouth. It feels like the oxygen in the room has rapidly decreased. It feels like there's nothing left to breathe but him.

Jungkook pulls out more, and your muscles contract. He moans, broken in the back of his throat, and pushes back in painfully slow.

When he does it again, you want to scream. His focus is between you, watching as you keep clenching around him desperately.

His hand grips your thigh again, pushing your leg down, pressing your knee as close to your chest as you can stretch. The way he’s got you under him means you can’t do anything for friction. It means you just have to lay there and take it.

He nudges your jaw up with his nose, so he has access to your neck, and he can drag his lips across your skin.

Again he pulls back. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and when he rocks forward again he does it harder. Your breath hitches at the force.

Again.

Again.

You’re going to kill him if he doesn’t speed up soon.

Again.

Your legs widen, you feel your body sink into the couch.

“There you go, baby.”

Again, harder.

You whine.

His teeth coast along your pulse, and your eyes flutter as you have to fight to keep them open.

They’re just so heavy.

All your focus has narrowed to the drag of his cock inside of you. Slow. So slow.

Too slow.

Again.

You’ve completely relaxed underneath him.

You can’t even think of forming a word, much less a sentence, but you’ve been begging in your head since he started.

You squeeze around him one more time just to feel it, and your thighs burn.

It’s too much.

You have to let go. And as soon as you do, you feel finally, completely open, helpless, just waiting for the press of his body.

“That’s it.” He whispers into the skin of your neck. “Now I can fuck you right.”

He presses another kiss into your collar bone, then he readjusts, leaning back to look down at you before pinching the sensitive skin to the side of your knee.

“Still with me?” He asks, deep and breathless.

You claw at his skin and he presses his lips together.

“Yes.” You sigh.

He pulls out slowly, nearly all the way so only the head of his cock remains inside. He waits. Staring at you.

You feel the emptiness like it’s your center of gravity.

“Move,” you plead, out loud at last. “Move Jungkook.”

He plants a hand next to your waist to stabilize himself.

Then he’s setting a pace so fast and hard it has you releasing his shoulders to hold the arm of the couch above your head just so you can take it.

This is nothing like you imagined.

It’s better.

He holds your legs wide and collides with you with just the right amount of force that it has you seeing stars.

You can’t even hold your breath, or savor the moment, it punches out of you with every thrust and your thoughts fracture like a shattering glass every time Jungkook’s deep enough.

Every thrust has a new noise pouring from your lips. Loud in the empty room, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind. His eyes are filled with an intense concentration.

He hits some place inside you that no one else has been able to; it makes fresh, pure heat, spiral out beneath your skin.

It makes more wetness slide out of you with every thrust. The sound it makes has you cursing.

Because you’re right there.

You’re so close to the best orgasm of your life-

Until he rips it away.

Jungkook pulls all the way out, and you’re empty.

Empty.

The vacuum of sensation is so jarring your body contracts.

You were seconds from complete bliss, almost overflowing. The pressure still sits high and brimming beneath your skin.

Jungkook’s hand slides down your thigh.

He turns your hips to the side, forcefully closing your legs, and twisting your body. He pushes down to squeeze your thighs together. You let him.

You’re too distracted to be confused.

You ache already from his size but even more from his absence.

His fingers slide against you from the new angle and you sigh, then they’re gone, replaced by the head of his cock.

Oh.

Okay.

He enters you again.

You grip the edge of the couch cushion for balance.

It’s a different feeling. Again you feel your body stretch to accommodate him, but you're more flexible now.

It’s just as mindnumbing.

The sound of his lower stomach connecting with the side of your ass on every thrust makes the impact hit harder. His rhythm is hypnotic as he bends over you.

He speeds up.

Every time he enters you, it carves you out. The way he feels rubbing against your sensitivity like this is unbelievable.

You're swollen already, but you don't care. You’re still wet enough for him to fuck you raw. You can feel every ridge of him, as you squeeze your legs tighter together.

“Shit.” Jungkook curses, “that’s good.”

You could get used to the feeling of him like this, you realize.

You already are.

It speaks to your greed that you already miss the sensation. Already crave it, when he’s still this deep inside of you.

Jungkook’s pace remains steady and you’re rising on that same wave again, but he manages to keep you there.

With shallow, hard, thrusts that have you opening and closing your mouth in silence.

You don’t even know what to say, you feel like you need to bite down on something. Every thrust pushes you further into the couch, but somehow, you still think he’s holding back.

You think he could be going harder.

Your hand clamps over his, still holding down the side of your thigh, for that deliciously tight squeeze and rough slide of his cock moving in and out of you.

His fingers lift to curl around yours, and your grip tightens.

“Jung-kook,” his name comes out fractured.

“What is it baby?” He asks, but before you can answer he snaps his hips forward, and his blunt fingernails dig into your skin.

You sigh softly. Reeling.

His hips are tight with yours, as he leans over to look at your face, which you're sure is flushed beyond belief.

You grumble low in your throat and curl forward, feeling him shift inside you, and you don’t know how to ask for what you need anymore. Your head is foggy.

Jungkook slides his hand out from underneath yours, shaking your fingers off to reach for your face. He grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze towards him.

Jungkook looks pretty like this, face flushed and sweaty, hair hanging across his face and sticking up, ruined in every sense of the word.

“What do you want?” He asks quietly.

For him to fuck you harder.

Jungkook stays buried inside you as his hips rock lazily into yours. Or maybe it’s less lazy, more impatient. His fingers tighten on your face, his arm flexing.

“Lost your words sweetheart?” He tilts your head further to the side.

“Harder.” You say, sucked into the oasis of his eyes, “More-please.”

“What was that?”

“Please.”

You know how much he likes that, you can feel it inside of you.

“Fuck,” he curses, blowing out a breath, “I should have done this sooner.”

“You should have.” You agree.

Your skin stings as he delivers a sharp slap to the side of your ass.

You still feel the impression of his weight pinning down your thigh after he lifts his hand. He pulls out, letting go of your face after letting his thumb drag against your parted lips.

“On your stomach then.” Jungkook demands, not wasting any time helping you flip over. A firm hand on your hip to keep you balanced, fingers nudging your shirt up your waist.

Your body feels like jello.

You lean against your elbows and Jungkook pushes your chest down. He spreads your legs with his knees, and controlling the tilt of your hips with his hands, lines himself up again.

“Oh, honey,” Jungkook groans, and his fingers suddenly leave your skin to scissor you open. “You’re dripping.”

You choke, pressing back into his hand, giving your spine the most delicious stretch. Anticipation coils in your gut. Your pleasure on a knife’s edge.

You can hear the fascination in his voice.

You can feel it.

Shame makes your head feel light with warmth, and you let your head drop between your forearms.

“Do you know how hot that is, baby?” He asks, entering you suddenly in one sharp thrust.

You’re so high on him, you can barely breathe.

“Should I tell you?” He continues, pulling all the way out. “Would you like to hear that sex has never felt like this before?”

You're screwed.

Your screwed, your fucked, destroyed, wrecked, by him.

He can’t go around just saying that.

Jungkook slams into you, pulling your hips back at the same time.

Your mouth opens in a groan, half muffled by the furniture beneath you.

“The way you feel around me.” He starts, pulling out again. And his voice is so heavy with desire your head spins. You swear you actually get wetter just from his tone.

You brace yourself.

You’re still not ready.

“It’s addicting.” He thrusts all the way back in. Another noise is punched out of you and your muscles flutter. He holds your hips up, and the pants that still cling to his thighs feel rough against your skin.

His pace is ridiculous; you start this way half kneeling but Jungkook quickly makes you melt into the cushions. Forcing your bodies together in a way you can only describe as a fantasy.

But it's just better.

You can’t go back. Not after this.

He keeps going. One of his palms sliding up your back beneath your shirt for more leverage against you.

His cock hits you so good and deep like this. It's unbelievable you haven't come yet, and you're starting to get frustrated.

But every time you feel your muscles start to tense up, and heat begin to cascade down your spine Jungkook slows his thrusts just enough that the feeling sticks; simmering just beneath your skin.

Once your body regroups he speeds up again, so fast and hard it’s almost punishing. The force of it feels so good.

But you're starting to feel wrung out, and it gets worse and worse every time. Every time, you clench around him tighter, and every time you try rocking your hips back to meet him once he slows but he just grips your hips and pulls away.

You don’t want him to stop.

You don’t want him to stop.

But you need to cum now, your body is shaking with it, and you need to feel him tip over the edge inside you just as much as you crave your own release.

You’ve lost track of the sounds coming out of your mouth, high pitched and matching each of Jungkook’s thrusts. You're drooling all over the couch.

“Please.” You beg into the cushions, you don’t know if he can hear you over the slap of your skin.

Another wave crests, your body is throbbing. Your orgasm is so close.

Your toes curl.

Then Jungkook takes it away.

He slows, pulls out.

You slump forward, your aching entrance exposed to him, your legs spread by his hips. His fingers coast along your spine, down.

You’re covered in goosebumps. You were right there. Again. Your vision blurs, you have tears in your eyes.

It’s not fair.

“Jungkook.“ You whine.

“Shhh,” he croons, “I’m sorry baby,” his hand slides down your thigh, “be patient.”

He’s not sorry.

He’s not.

Because you’re gone, you’re gone, and he put you here. You know he can hear it in your voice, what he’s done to you.

This is so embarrassing.

You can’t cry in front of Jungkook.

You can’t.

Tears pool hot and vicious in your eyes anyway.

Fuck.

He pulls back again. And you feel cold as his touch disappears.

Then Jungkook’s hands find your back again, his skin molding into yours as he grips you, forcing your hips back up before his hands are mirroring each other to dance down your spine.

He leans over you and you feel the way his cock strains against you as he shifts his hips. He presses deep into your shoulder blades to hold your chest down and force your back into an arch.

You grind back against him, and he hisses. You’re sure he’s aching just as much as you are, covered in your wetness and just as desperate for release.

“You’re something else,” he pants close to the back of your neck, one of his hands sliding firmly into the base of your hair.

He tugs and you whimper at the stretch, but the sensation feels amazing.

“Jungkook-“

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, and he’s clearly enjoying this if the deep guttural tone of his voice is any indication.

You wish you could see his eyes right now, dark and tempting, wide with arousal. The thought brings more wetness as your inner muscles spasm over and over.

You clench, around nothing, and he groans tightly as you force the arch of your back uncomfortably deep to stay pressed up against him as close as possible. You don’t care about the chafe of his pants against your thighs.

He rocks forward like he can’t help it and pushes your face down, pressing it against the drool that’s been collecting beneath you without your permission.

Your head buzzes and you swallow down more saliva. You love that he has you helpless like this, and you can’t help but rut against him right back. Like you’ve completely sunk into the overwhelming heat of his body.

Another noise echoes from your lips and he pushes against you harder. You think you’re saying please, you have no idea.

“You’ll get to cum this time.” He says softly. “Just a little longer baby,” he says.

His hips cant back, then he’s entering you again, and it’s just as breathtaking as the first time.

Finally.

You sigh as he bottoms out, and your words are gone. His fingers tighten in your hair, nails scrapping temptingly over your scalp and you feel completely open.

“You feel unbelievable,” he says, “I could keep you in my bed like this all night.”

You moan softly. Sighing into the cushions.

The sound of his hips colliding with your ass makes your whole body flush. It’s obscene.

“Fuck,” Jungkook’s hips stutter forward and he knocks the air from your lungs again on his next thrust.

“You can’t blame me for wanting to play with you just a little.” He says.

Your heart pounds through your body. The words sliding from his lips like a drug. His voice is like a blanket on your senses.

His thrusts are speeding up again, this angle splitting you open in just the right way, his precision has you shivering with white hot pleasure.

The drag is back, pleasure rolling through you in high waves, with every push of his hand against you, every time he forces you deeper into the couch, pushes in all the way and absolutely destroys you.

You’re overstimulated and nearing your orgasm almost immediately. He drags your hips into his and you can’t even manage to cry out anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t hold back this time, just like he promised, he doesn’t change his rhythm or move his hands.

Somehow it’s still a surprise.

You have enough breath to exhale, a surprised “oh,” before you’re gone; the pressure snaps in your stomach and you’re cumming around his cock with an open mouthed sigh into the couch. Your muscles spasm.

It’s so good, so good, so good-

Jungkook groans, rocking with you through it, then his hips snap forward, hard, and you feel him tense up. The warmth of his cum spreading out inside you.

Satisfaction blooms in your stomach, and you shudder into a second, less consuming wave, as Jungkook’s thrusts start to slow, mellowing out.

You clamp around him, thighs trembling, as you try and force him to stay inside longer.

“Fuck, that’s hot” he curses again, blowing out a heavy breath.

You’re still coasting on a high as he releases your hair and runs his hands in broad soothing strokes up your back.

You feel like a puddle; you think you might be able to taste colors, and the only thing keeping you grounded is Jungkook, and the gentle grind of his hips as he rocks his cum even deeper into you.

The force is gone, but you still love the way he feels, spreading your skin apart so he can see the damage he’s done. He rubs a thumb against your entrance, and you shudder, pitching forward in a whine.

You deflate into the couch, until he’s the last thing holding you up.

You’re going to be sore for a few days, and he definitely knows it.

Jungkook spreads you wide as he pulls slowly out, and you miss the stretch of him already, even though the sensitivity is driving you insane.

You feel the slide of his release inside you, and you have to breathe around the shock of heat that brings back to your body.

The cushions dip as he shifts, and he nudges your legs as he sits backward in a sprawl on the couch. He still reaches out to you to cup his hand over your entrance, coating his hand in your wetness and keeping his cum firmly inside you with his fingers.

You know Jungkook’s sitting right there, but he feels far away after the way he was bent over you. You stretch back into his hand and finally raise yourself up with shaky arms.

“God.” You say, and your voice is hoarse.

You sit up on your knees, and his fingers slide away, you mourn their loss; lightheaded and recapturing your awareness of the space.

You turn to meet his eyes. The edges of the room are still fuzzy but he’s in stark focus.

Jungkook’s chest rises and falls deeply. His face is still pinkish, and his skin is sticky with sweat, just like yours. He looks fresh off the stage again, but there’s a serene laziness in his eyes you’ve never seen before.

He looks softer than you’ve ever seen him, glowy still, under the crappy lighting. Something squeezes in your chest.

You stare at him. Thoughts still unfocused.

“C’mere.” He says, holding his hand out, eyes liquid and soft, like melted chocolate. You glance at the dark ink, swirling up from his wrist.

You don’t hesitate to take his hand, and he pulls you over him. Placing his other hand at your hip as soon as he has the opportunity and guiding your sluggish body until you’re kneeling straddling his hips

Your eyes track the way his cock, covered in your wetness, looks. Jungkook’s pants are still sitting extremely low beneath his waist, stretched across his thighs. Like he was too tired to even bother pulling them back up.

It strikes you suddenly that It’s surprisingly intimate to see him this way, to be in this position with him.

In the space between you, you’ve found a sort of peace. You feel like you’ve been sucked into his time zone and the world is moving equally quickly around you both.

You’re more comfortable with him now.

He guides you down, until you’re flush with him, your muscles unclenching from your reluctance to let him drip all over the couch. But now you’re sitting directly against the hot skin at the V of his hips, completely bare, and you both hiss at the feeling.

He doesn’t seem to mind the wetness now plastered to his skin, nor his own cum leaking onto his stomach, and you try not to revel in it.

His hand, long fingers shiny with the both of you, comes up to slide a hair out of your face, and his eyes are calm as he stares.

You lean into him at the same time he drags you forward for a firm kiss. The comforting slide of his mouth against yours fills all the gaps in your body and consciousness where you’re still reeling.

When you pull away, you watch him lick his lips for a mesmerizing second before he speaks, subdued and exhausted. The full day finally appearing to press on his shoulders.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Jungkook says quietly.

It shouldn’t sting the resigned way he says it. But it does.

You feel the frown pulling at your face before you can hide it, and he swipes his thumb against the base of your neck. You lean into him automatically.

What you should be doing is extracting yourself from this situation.

“Well,” and there’s more bite in your tone than there needs to be. “It’s too late to go back now.”

“I know.” He says.

“You’re the one who dragged me in here.”

Oops. You sound bothered now.

You sound invested. And not in the fun physical way he attracts your body like a magnet.

In that trippy emotional way that burns like acid in the back of your throat. You’re too unsteady to unpack any of this.

“I know, baby,” he cracks half a smile, pressing deeper into the bruises at your neck.

You’re confused. Butterflies erupting again at the pet name. But you can’t be blamed, your brain is still half numb right now.

“I think you enjoyed yourself.” He says and it’s not a question.

“I’m going to be sore for days.” You grumble.

“You need me to bring you an ice pack?”

“No!”

You shift and he grips your hip tightly.

“Clearly, this was a mistake.” You say. You glance towards the doorway and try to ignore how the words sound like total bullshit coming from your mouth.

You haven’t made any moves to leave.

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook says confidently.

You tip slightly forward, the friction making you blink in surprise for a moment before you jam a finger into his chest.

“You just said-“

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “because now we can’t go back.”

“Obviously.” You say, waiting for him to explain. “We already had sex.”

Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his mouth. “The problem is, now I want more.”

Jungkook’s always hungry.

How could you forget?

You shift, the wet heat of you pressing flush against his abs.

“I don’t have to tell you why that’s a bad idea sweetheart.” He grits out.

And for a second, you’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to.

The risk of getting caught, or…

You slide your hips backward, and he stops the motion by bringing both hands down to your waist. You feel him beneath you anyway, half hard.

You grind down harder without meaning too and Jungkook’s breathing hitches.

“So you-”

“I told you I could keep you in my bed all night.” Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side. His voice sounds harsh, desperate, nothing like the smooth control from earlier.

“I want to.” He says, eyes going all droopy and warm.

You’re fucked.

You grind down onto his lap helplessly, making a mess everywhere, and you decide you want to feel every single way he can fuck you. And then more.

Jungkook follows your earlier line of sight to the doors though, “we don’t have time.”

You consider.

“You want to do this again though?”

“Yes,” he shifts his hips upwards, “fuck.” He throws his head back and your eyes get stuck on the arch of his neck as he groans.

“They’re probably looking for me.” He grumbles.

Your heart thumps in realization. “The equipment-”

Jungkook sighs, “I’ll bring it to the manager.” he says, and he makes to push you off of him, but you both sigh as he pushes you directly over his cock.

Your hands go to his shoulders as his grip on your waist becomes painful. You both hold your breath.

And you decide not to argue, it’s probably better he takes the equipment, he’s less likely to be reprimanded for lateness.

But it can’t happen again.

You give into the temptation to rotate your hips, and you look down at Jungkook’s wet skin directly beneath you.

He makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a moan.

Jungkook looks frustrated. He looks at you like he’s seeing you again for the first time, like he might just risk it for just a few more minutes.

So you make the executive decision to lift yourself back onto your knees and slide off his lap.

He lets you go reluctantly and runs a hand through his hair before quickly snapping into motion like he needed you to be the first to slip away.

He stands, efficiently buckling up his pants and plucking at his shirt to fix it as you search for the other half of your clothes on the floor.

You bend to grab your jeans and Jungkook’s warm fingers slide over the curve of your ass, he grabs at your skin, and you whip around to give him a look.

“Yes?” You say, and he raises his arms in surrender, a crooked smile on his face. His self restraint has its limits, you suppose.

“How do I look?” He asks, stepping back.

And you survey him up and down as you pull on your pants, almost cringing at what you can feel leaking between your legs. It doesn’t look like he’s been having sex backstage.

He’s still a little sweaty, he has that satisfied glow to him and his clothes aren’t the neatest but, just after a performance like he is, the disheveled satisfaction fits.

He’s hidden the mess on his stomach with his shirt. Your eyes try not to linger on his crotch, if he’s still hard he’s positioned himself so you can’t tell, and he hides the fire in his eyes easily.

He looks amazing. Typical.

“Fine,” you say. “Presentable.”

“That’s all?”

“Yup.”

Jungkook’s tongue prods into his cheek.

You reach up to straighten out your hair, messed by his fingers.

“What about me?” You ask, looking down at yourself with some skepticism. You don’t have the excuse that Jungkook does of being fresh off the stage.

He eyes you up and down.

“You look thoroughly fucked, sweetheart.” He says, with that typical manly cockiness only he can manage.

The kind that says, I love that I made you this way.

Your stomach flips. Your muscles ache, but you cross your arms in annoyance.

“Really?” You ask, you know the flush on your skin won’t fade for a while but other than that-

“You look pretty.” Jungkook says, more sincerely.

The complement hits you like a shot of something warm.

“But still fucked.” He tacks on.

You raise an eyebrow.

Your eyes flicker to the door and you mourn the fact that this bubble between you needs to pop so soon.

Desire has you in a chokehold, and before you can both walk out you step forward; throwing yourself into his space and dragging him down into a kiss.

A bolder move than you would usually make but you did just have sex with him in the stadium so…

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate, hands at your hips as he leans forward. But, it’s over too soon, Jungkook pulling away with a sharp pinch to your hip.

“You’re such a tease.” He says, like it pains him to let go.

A grin lifts the corner of your lips, “so are you.” You say, but you have to catch your breath, heart rate already pounding from such a brief contact.

You step away, “we should go.” You say. Urgency finally catching up to you.

It’s about fucking time.

He fishes his phone from one of the deep pockets on the side of his leg. Cursing when he sees the screen is filled with multiple missed calls, RM’s name at the top of the screen, but he unlocks it and shoves it in your direction.

“Give me your number.” He says. And excitement blooms in your chest, he wasn’t kidding about doing this again. Even so, it’s probably a horrible idea.

You don’t care.

Part of you wants to laugh at how backwards the interaction is though. Usually asking for a phone number comes before any of this.

You quickly type it in and save it under your name, toying with the idea of adding an emoji or nickname instead. You know he can’t have that popping up on his screen in public though.

Your fingers brush as you hand the phone back. The contact feels heavy with some sort of promise. A secret you now share. Jungkook winks at you as he backpedals towards the door, swiping at the screen and raising it to his ear.

Presumably to return his calls.

He blows you a cheeky kiss before he disappears, the door clicking shut behind him.

You take a deep breath, and give yourself exactly five seconds before you start freaking out.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You have to pinch yourself twice just to make sure it wasn’t a dream. You squeeze your legs together, feeling the ache he left behind.

Holy shit.

You just had sex with Jungkook.

It should be noted that you do not jump up and down like an idiot.

***

Once your shift is over-Jungkook did end up taking the equipment back for you-you finally find yourself alone in your hotel room with the time to think.

You relive it again and again.

Every second, every sensation.

Jungkook’s desire for more.

You get so caught up, drifting, star-fished over your covers staring at the ceiling, that you nearly miss the buzz of your phone on the nightstand. Absently, you reach for it, squinting at the screen. It’s a text from an unknown number.

Sent: Still thinking about me?

Jungkook.

Your fingers shake as you pull up the contact to save it. You huff at the message though. Wide awake now as you type out a reply.

Received: I’m not

Sent: Liar

Of fucking course he knew. Or he was just annoying enough to assume. But you smile, because clearly he was thinking of you too.

Sent: can’t wait for the next show ;)

You can nearly imagine the look in his eyes, and you have to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.

You can be normal about this.

Oh fuck.

How to flirt over text?

You have to freak out for a minute.

Finally you just settle on:

Received: me too :)