Author's pov

The apartment felt too small for the storm between them. Yn's back hit the wall with a thud that rattled the framed photos, and Jungkook was there, pressing her into the plaster like he could fuse them together. His hands were everywhere—gripping, pulling, mapping the frantic geography of her body. There was no patience in him tonight, only a raw, clawing need that matched the chaos in her chest.

"Too much," she gasped, but it wasn't a plea to stop. It was a warning, a confession. She was already past the edge, past the point where sense made room for feeling.

He didn't slow. He never did when she was like this. His mouth found the pulse at her throat, teeth grazing just hard enough to make her knees buckle. She clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails leaving crescents in skin that felt too hot to touch. Every breath was a battle, every touch a demand.