#bts ask

The city hummed softly beyond the apartment window, neon lights casting a warm glow against the walls. You leaned back against the couch, stretching your legs across Jungkook’s lap as the remainders of a half watched movie played quietly in the background. The night had started simple, takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, easy conversation flowing the way it always did when you were with him.

But there was something different in the air tonight. Something heavier.

Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh, his fingers absentmindedly tracing small circles against your skin. It was innocent enough - or maybe you were just telling yourself that. Because the way his touch lingered a little too long, the way his eyes flickered to your lips every time you spoke, made it impossible to ignore the heat pooling low in your stomach.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his voice smooth and low as he tilted his head to study you.

You realised he did that a lot - study you. It made you nervous especially because you didn’t know what he was thinking.

You swallowed, willing yourself to play it cool despite the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat.

“Just… thinking.”

His lips curved into a small smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine. “About what?”

You hesitated, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. About how good you look right now. About how badly I want you. But you didn’t say any of that. Instead, you shrugged lightly, pretending like his thumb dragging along your inner thigh wasn’t making your thoughts spiral.

Jungkook chuckled softly, but there was something darker behind it - something knowing. He shifted beneath you, leaning closer until his face was mere inches from yours. “You sure that’s all?” His eyes slightly squinting daringly.

His breath was warm against your skin, and suddenly, the space between you felt unbearably small. The tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks - months, was finally threatening to spill over.

You could feel the wetness between your legs as your eyes shifted towards his ajar lips for a second, you bite your own absentmindedly.

“You’re doing it again,” he said, his voice softer now.

“Doing what?”

“Biting your lip like that.” His eyes dipped down, watching as you sucked it between your teeth. “You know it drives me crazy.”

Your pulse quickened at his words, and you felt your walls start to crumble. You should’ve been used to this - teasing, flirting, the constant push and pull - but tonight felt different. More intense. Like you were standing on the edge of something you couldn’t take back.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” you asked quietly, surprising yourself with the boldness in your tone.

Jungkook’s hand tightened on your thigh, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Tell me.”

For a second, you hesitate, the way he was looking at you like he was barely holding himself together, was the thing that almost shattered the last of your restraint. Before you could say anything, he says, “should I tell you what I’ve been thinking about?”

He could tell you were hesitant to say whatever was on your mind. He had a feeling what it was - or more so hoped it was the same thing he’s been thinking about since he can remember.

You look at him surprised. “It’s something that constantly consumes my mind actually…” he continues, brown eyes never leaving yours.

He tries to hold back the slight chuckle that fights to escape his lips - seeing the way you perk up at this new discovery.

You’re so cute.

“I’m thinking about how much I want you,” he admits, the words tumbling out. He’s wanted to tell you this for the longest, he’s usually very bold with his words so the fact he’s managed to keep this on for so long has both surprised and killed him. “And how long I’ve been trying to pretend I don’t.”

Your breath hitched - just for a moment, but it was enough to make his stomach twist. Shit. Maybe you didn’t feel the same. Did he completely fuck this up?

When you make no move to speak, he slowly starts to sit back. Embarrassment creeping in. He didn’t think about the rejection part.

His moves come to a halt when your fingers grab his shoulders. “No no no, wait” you hurriedly speak. You were in such shock that you forgot to reply.

“I feel the same too. I just, I-“

And then, before you could say anything else, his hand slid higher, his fingers brushing against the hem of your shorts.

“You have no idea,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips hovered over yours, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” He couldn’t help but to bask in this excitement of his, grinning like a mad man. But everything changes when your fingers move towards his hair, playing with the dark strands like you usually did - but this time it was different, more intimate.

“For someone that’s usually so bold - why is it taking you so long to kiss me?” You mumble not missing the way his eyes grow big with shock at your sudden words.

To be fair, all he needed was your permission and he was on you like wildfire. All the times he’s fantasised about this moment and now he is actually living in it, oh yeah he couldn’t be anymore eager.

The hard on in his pants proves just that.

His lips crash on to yours with so much eagerness that it almost startles you. Almost - because just like him you were eager too. The feel of his lips as they work against yours is enough to make you moan. He groans at the sound of it - hands roaming your body, savouring every touch.

Too desperate for his touch, you whisper, “Touch me”. Even though his hands had already explored almost every inch of your body, still you craved more, more attention where you ached the most.

It’s not that his lips on yours weren’t enough - because fuck, they were. But your other lips needed him too.

Your sudden boldness this evening takes him by surprise. Usually, he’s the blunt one.

But he knows exactly what you mean.

His eyes darken, the shock fading into something far more dangerous, something hungry. Without a word, his hand trails lower, fingers brushing the edge of your underwear, teasing, like he wants to make you beg for it.

“You want me here?” he asks, voice low and rough, his fingers barely grazing where you throb. The question is almost mocking - he already knows the answer.

You nod, biting your lip to hold back a whimper, but that isn’t enough for him.

“Say it again,” he demands, his mouth ghosting over your jaw, breath hot against your skin. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as heat coils low in your stomach. You’re already melting beneath his touch, but the way he’s holding back, like he wants you to break first - has you trembling.

“Touch me,” you repeat, voice softer this time, but no less desperate. “Please.”

A low groan escapes him as if your plea snaps whatever restraint he was holding on to. His fingers slip beneath the thin fabric, and the moment he touches you - really touches you, you let out a gasp, your body arching into his hand.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he starts to give you exactly what you asked for.

His fingers move slowly at first, sliding through your wetness with an agonising patience that makes your whole body tense. He’s teasing you - taking his time like he wants to see just how much you can handle.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like he’s in awe. His lips find your neck, dragging hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin while his fingers circle that aching spot, just barely giving you what you need.

It’s not enough. Not even close.

A frustrated whimper escapes you, your hips shifting instinctively, chasing more friction. He chuckles softly against your neck, clearly enjoying how desperate you are beneath him.

“Impatient?” he teases, but his voice is rough, strained, like holding back is starting to get to him too.

“Yes,” you breathe, no longer caring how needy you sound. “I want more.”

His breath stutters for a moment, all the control he’s had shifting immediately. Without warning, his fingers press deeper, sliding inside you in one smooth, perfect motion. The stretch has you gasping, your body arching into him as he curls his fingers just right.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks, watching your face closely, like he wants to memorise every reaction.

You nod quickly, words slipping from your lips in a broken moan. “Yes please, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. If anything, your begging only fuels him. His pace quickens, fingers working you open while his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that have your thighs trembling.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “Falling apart for me. So pretty when you’re like this.”

The heat building inside you tightens, overwhelming and electric, and you know you’re close, so close it’s almost unbearable. He can tell, too. The way your body clenches around his fingers only makes him work you harder, chasing your release like it’s the only thing that matters.

“Come for me,” he whispers, his mouth brushing against yours. “I want to feel it.”

And with one last stroke - deep and perfect - you do. The pleasure crashes over you in an overwhelming wave, your whole body trembling as his name falls from your lips, breathless and broken.

He doesn’t stop until he’s released every last drop of pleasure from you, watching you fall apart with a look that’s nothing short of possessive. Your body finally relaxes beneath him, a shaking mess. H leans down to kiss you - slow and deep, like he’s already planning to do it all over again.

Your pulse is still racing, body trembling as you try to catch your breath, but he isn’t finished with you. Not even close.

Before you can fully come down, his lips trail lower, leaving a path of soft, lingering kisses down your body. Every touch feels electric, like he’s determined to keep you on edge, to push you even further.

“You can take more, can’t you?” voice low and smooth, but there’s an edge to it - a challenge.

Your body is already oversensitive, but the hunger in his eyes makes your stomach twist with excitement. You nod, barely able to form words, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

He moves between your thighs without hesitation, spreading you open as if you belong to him. And when his mouth finally meets you -warm and demanding, you let out a broken moan, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Fuck Jungkook” The words fall from your lips as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe over your most sensitive spot, his tongue working you with the same devastating precision as his fingers.

He hums against you, pleased by your reaction, and the sound of his name leaving your lips. He never thought he’d hear you call his name in this intimate situation - he’s dreamed it, fantasised but to actually hear it, so desperate and fucked out has him relishing in it. The vibration sends another pulse of pleasure through you. Your hips twitch, but his hands hold you down firmly, like he doesn’t plan on letting you escape.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath warm against your skin. “I could do this all night.”

He gives kisses to your inner thighs before going right back in.

The intensity is almost too much, and yet you don’t want him to stop. Every flick of his tongue, every soft suck, pulls you closer to that sharp edge again - you’re helpless against the rush building inside you.

Your hands tighten in his hair as your body starts to shake again, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but he doesn’t slow down. If anything, the way you’re falling apart beneath him only makes him work you harder.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” he says, voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you lose control.”

His words alone send another wave of heat crashing through you, and when he sucks your clit between his lips, it’s too much. Your body tenses, pleasure ripping through you with the upmost amount of force, and you cry out his name as you come undone all over again.

He doesn’t pull away - not for a while even as you’re there trembling, body completely worn out. Only then does he lift his head, his lips glossy, eyes dark and full of heat as he takes in the sight of you - wrecked and breathless beneath him.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he repeats, crawling back up your body to capture your lips in a deep, possessive kiss. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

More? You think to yourself , unsure if your body can take any more.

His kiss is rough, deep and claiming - like he’s determined to remind you exactly who’s making you fall apart like this. You’re still breathless, body sensitive and trembling beneath him, but the way he presses against you - hard and heavy, makes it clear he isn’t anywhere near finished.

The weight of his body against yours is intoxicating, but it’s his hardened cock between his legs that steals your breath. It’s thick and heavy, pressing against your thigh through the thin fabric still separating you.

You want him. All of him. And judging by the way his fingers curl possessively around your hips, he wants you just as badly.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice soft but full of need. “I want to feel you.”

Your words make something snap inside him. In one smooth motion, he sits back on his heels, dragging his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him, his toned chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, only makes the ache between your thighs grow stronger.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his gaze never leaving yours as his hands move to his waistband. He takes his time, teasing you with the slow drag of his zipper before finally pushing his jeans down.

When he frees himself, your breath catches. He’s thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip - evidence of just how much he wants you. And the way he strokes himself lazily, eyes locked on you like you’re his favorite thing to ruin, makes your whole body burn.

“You want this?” he asks, voice low and dark, like he needs to hear you say it.

“Yes,” you breathe, spreading your thighs wider in invitation. “I need you.”

“I don’t…” His voice is rough, strained. “I don’t have a condom.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. But instead of worry, all you feel is a deeper ache, the need for him overwhelming any rational thought.

“I want to feel you,” you admit softly, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “All of you.”

His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, he just looks at you like you’ve completely undone him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure”

His expression shifts as something darker, more possessive flashes in his eyes. “Fuck, baby… You’re gonna make me lose my mind.”

He moves back over you, one hand bracing beside your head while the other guides himself to your entrance. The blunt tip of him presses against your sweet pussy, and your whole body tenses with anticipation.

“Look at me,” he softly demands, and when your eyes meet his, he pushes in. Slow and deep, he’s stretching you inch by inch until he’s buried fully inside of you.

The stretch burns perfectly, leaving you breathless, and a broken moan escapes you as he sinks all the way in. He pauses, his body shaking against yours as he feels the heat of your bare walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw before whispering, “You feel so good like this - so warm, so wet. And the way you squeeze me.” His voice drifts off as if in a trance.

His hips roll slowly, deliberately, making sure you feel every inch of him stretching you open. “I’m not gonna last if you keep clenching like that,” he groans.

A sharp gasp falls from your lips at the fullness, and he groans low in his throat, his head dropping to the curve of your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight around me.”

He gives you a moment to adjust, his breath heavy and ragged against your skin, but the way your walls clench around him makes it impossible for him to stay still for long.

Each roll of his hips brushes against that perfect spot inside you, and soon, your nails are digging into his back, silently begging him for more.

The slick, wet sound of him moving inside you fills the room.

“You like that?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “The way I stretch you open - filling you so deep?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you moan, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer.

His rhythm quickens. His thrusts harder and more deliberate, the sound of skin against skin sounding through the room making it all the more hot and intimate. His grip on your hips tightens as he drives into you, chasing both your pleasure with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“Touch yourself,” he orders suddenly, his voice rough with need. “I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”

The demand sends a fresh wave of heat through you, and with trembling fingers, you reach between your bodies to find that aching spot. The combined sensation of his deep, forceful thrusts and the pressure against your clit pushes you closer, so close you can barely hold on.

“Good girl,” he praises, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. “You’re doing so well, taking me so perfectly.”

His words, his touch - everything about him has you spiraling toward the edge. Your body tightens around him, and he groans at the sensation, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate.

Your nails dig into his shoulders. The pressure inside you coils tighter and tighter.

“You’re close” he growls, and it’s not a question, it’s a promise.

“Come for me. Let me feel you.”

“Please,” you whimper, the pressure creeping up fast.

“I’m so close.”

His thrusts grow rougher, his breath coming in ragged pants as he chases your release with relentless precision.

“Come for me, baby,” he urges, his voice cracking with how desperate he is to feel you come around him.

“Show me how much you love being stretched, being fucked raw.”

The combination of his cock hitting that devastating spot inside you and his filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your body reacts instantly, your back arching, legs trembling as the pleasure explodes through you. And then it happens. The release hits so hard and fast, you don’t even have time to hold back.

A cry falls from your lips as you squirt around him, soaking his cock and thighs in a hot, messy rush. Your whole body shakes with the force of it, and the feeling of you squirting for him drives him insane.

He wasn’t expecting that - and by the looks of your startled face, you didn’t either.

“Fuck! that’s it, baby,” he groans, his rhythm stuttering as your tight, wet heat pulls him deeper. “God, you’re perfect. So messy for me, so fucking good.” A strangled moan escapes him as he feels you drench him again, and his whole body shudders. He swears he’s in love.

He slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm while his hands stroke over your trembling thighs. But his cock is still hard - still twitching inside you, and his hunger is nowhere near satisfied.

He’s obsessed with the way you fall apart, the way your body gives itself to him completely.

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, his voice strained as he watches you in all your glory, his fingers working you through the oversensitivity as you couldn’t continue to do it after your orgasm. “So fucking beautiful when you come like that for me.”

His hips falter, and a broken sound escapes his throat as he loses himself entirely, thrusting deep one last time as he spills inside you. The warmth of it, the raw intimacy, only adds to the dizzying high as your body clings to his, milking every last drop.

For a while, the only sound in the room is your heavy breathing, synced together.

When he finally finds his voice again, it’s softer but still a hint of desperation behind it.

“I don’t want to let you go,” he confesses, pressing a few soft kisses along your shoulder. “I want to keep you like this, full of me, until you can’t take anymore.”

He’s still buried inside you, thick, hard, and twitching with need, even after spilling himself deep. But there’s no sign of him slowing down. If anything, feeling you squirt around him, soaking his cock, has only made him more obsessed.

His weight warm and comforting as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You okay?”

You nod, a lazy smile curling on your lips as you meet his gaze. “More than okay.”

His expression softens, and he leans down to kiss you again, slower this time, like he’s savoring every second. And as he holds you close, it’s clear neither of you is quite ready to let go.

His lips trace your jaw, then your neck, teeth scraping just enough to make you shiver. Even after everything, he’s still hard inside you, and the way his hips roll, slow and deliberate, makes it clear he isn’t nearly finished.

His hands trail possessively over your hips, squeezing like he’s memorizing every inch of your body. When he pulls back slightly and pushes in again, deeper than before, a broken moan escapes your lips. The stretch still makes you gasp, like your body was made to take him.

“I can’t stop,” he whispers, voice rough and needy as his lips drag across your shoulder.

“I don’t want to stop, I need you again.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you clench around him instinctively, making him groan, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“You feel so good”

The thought drives him wild, knowing his release is still deep inside you, mixing with your wetness.

His hips twitch, pushing deeper, and he lets out a ragged breath when your walls pulse around him.

“I love you like this,” he confesses, no trace of shame in his voice.

“Messy, mine. I don’t want to pull out. I want to stay inside you forever.”

He knows he sounds pathetic, but that’s exactly how you make him. He was even pathetic before he knew what you felt like, and now that he’s got a taste, he’s long gone.

The intensity of his words makes your head spin, and the raw need in his voice only ignites the fire between your legs. You’re still sensitive and aching from how hard he already made you come - multiple times, but his desperation is infectious.

“You can have me”

In one swift motion, he pulls out, only to flip you onto your stomach, dragging your hips up until you’re on your knees. His hand presses against your lower back, holding you in place, while the other strokes over your thigh in a possessive and firm action.

“You look so perfect like this,” he breathes, dragging the tip of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you until you’re trembling with need. “Like you’re made for me.”

Without warning, he thrusts back inside you deep, pulling another strained moan from your lips. The angle has him hitting deeper, rougher, and the utter force of it leaves you gasping.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groans, his fingers digging into your hips as he sets a brutal rhythm. Every thrust is deliberate, claiming, like he wants to leave his mark on every inch of you.

And god, you want it too.

“You feel me, don’t you?” he mutters, leaning forward until his chest presses against your back, his breath hot against your ear. “Deep inside, stretching you open.”

“Yes,” you gasp, your fingers curling into the leather fabric of the sofa as your body melts under his relentless pace. “I feel you everywhere.”

He chuckles low and dark, clearly satisfied by how wrecked you already are. But it’s not enough - no, not for him. His hand slides around your body, fingers finding your clit with devastating precision, and the combination of his touch and the way he’s filling you sends sparks shooting through your veins.

“Let me hear you,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. “I want to know how good I make you feel.”

You can’t hold back, not with the way he’s fucking you. Your moans spill freely, desperate, and it only seems to egg him on. His thrusts grow harder, faster, until the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room again.

A sharp curse falls from his lips. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, like he needs to remind himself that you’re his.

“You drive me fucking crazy,”

“I can’t get enough, I’ll never get enough.”

“I want to feel you fall apart for me again,” he begs, voice breaking as his hips snap against yours.

“Please, please, baby, let me feel you.”

The raw need in his voice, the way he’s clinging to you like he’s afraid to let go, it’s too much. Your body tightens around him, the pressure building fast and intense, making you tremble beneath him.

“I’m close, fuck, I’m so close,” you gasp, as your legs begin to shake.

“Come for me,” he pleads, his thrusts becoming erratic as his own release hovers just out of reach. “I need it, I need to feel you.”

“Fuck, baby”

His words shoot straight through you, making your walls flutter around his cock. He feels it immediately, and a low, satisfied chuckle escapes him as he thrusts deeper, making sure you feel every inch.

“You love it, don’t you? Being stretched out by me, so full you can barely handle it.”

You nod, breathless and trembling beneath him.

“Yeah?” he breathes, one hand slipping down to your stomach, pressing gently against the bulge he’s making inside you. “Right here, baby? Can you feel how deep I am?”

The pressure makes your head fall back with a choked moan, your whole body burning from the inside out.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with pride and possession. “Letting me fuck you raw, letting me fill you up.”

His neediness takes over, and he can’t seem to get close enough, his chest close against your back as he grinds deeper.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” he promises, voice shaking with how much he wants it. “Keep you full, keep you messy, until you can’t think of anything but me.”

His words unravel you, and he knows it. His thumb circles your clit again, too sensitive and too good all at once, and you can’t stop your body from trembling as another wave of pleasure continues to build. A low, satisfied groan escapes him, and his pace grows almost punishing, every thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you, dragging you higher and higher. Your legs tremble more, the pleasure building too quickly, too intensely.

“You’re gonna come for me again, aren’t you?” he teases.

His fingers speed up, and the coil inside you snaps violently. The orgasm tears through you like a lightning strike, and suddenly, you’re cumming around him again, clenching around him.

“Fuck” he groans. With one final, deep thrust, he buries himself, his body trembling as he spills inside you, marking you, claiming you in every way.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your bodies tangled together. Finally he speaks again, his voice is softer, but no less intense.

“I meant it,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

And from the way his body is still pressed against yours, you know he plans to prove it.

He was a year older than you in high school. Typically exuding a reserved and shy demeanor, the sophmore was exceptionally good at basketball and other sports. Not that you were far behind; you could effortlessly win against majority of the students in any given sport. Everyone but Jungkook it seemed. 

The pretty boy had throngs of admirers. You honestly understood them but you could feel yourself groan with annoyance everytime he beat you at a sport you practiced for days. Yes, he annoyed you, a sentiment he was well too aware of.

The boy didn't attend school as often, he had his future laid out in front of him, his father being a huge businessman in Busan.

You couldn't say that you hadn't heard of his father's reputation but you certainly could tell that Jungkook was pretty intimidated by him.

"Maybe she just likes you!" His friend answered much too loudly when Jungkook asked about why you disliked him.

He just laughed, "I wish. But I have a rough feeling that it has something to do with the fact that I demolish her at every game."

They were sitting together in the gymnasium during their lunch break, stealing glances at your direction, Jungkook wasn't the only one with admirers, you had your fair share of them.

Jungkook couldn't admit it openly but he had a crush on you. His feelings were shared only to the ones closest to him.

"You should really tell her, you know." His friend suggested.

"And-"

"And risk your father knowing? Man, just try it. You can brush it off as a rumor if it gets out."

Jungkook sighed, his desire for you practically consumed him.

He looked at you yet again. He knew it was a huge risk, but fuck. The way you laughed with your friends, the way your eyes glistened with purity, everything made him want to hug you and whisper the cheesiest of words into your ear. You were pretty, so pretty.

He couldn't risk it, right? But maybe he could give it a shot.

Jungkook's friend invited you to a local park that same evening since Jungkook couldn't muster up enough courage to do it himself. He picked one where the public consisted mostly the elderly to reduce the chances of him being noticed.

"Namjoon-hyung, you sure this jacket looks good?" Jungkook panicked. "I have to be there in 15 minutes."

His older friend sighed, "You could just tell us you're going on a date; it's obvious. We won't be that mad you know."

"It's not a date, I'm just meeting a....friend."

"Sure you are, that's why you got the biggest bouquet."

As Jungkook hurriedly made his way to the park, his mind raced with anticipation and nerves. The weight of the bouquet in his hands served as a constant reminder of the leap of faith he was about to take.

Despite his attempts to brush off Namjoon's teasing, the truth was undeniable: he was about to meet you for what felt like the most important moment of his life.

There you were, squatting down near the pup of an elderly couple. Your hair catching the golden sunlight and framing your face ever so beautifully.

This was the first time he saw you outside of school and without the uniform or gym clothes. You were wearing a simple skirt and a jacket to protect from the chilly weather, the soft hues blending perfectly with your complexion. He made a mental note of how good your sense of clothing was.

But that moment sparked a certain sense of determination in the teenage boy's head. He had to have you. It was that exact moment when he decided that he'll marry you and only you one day, keep you close to him forever.

Maybe you'd decline his proposal to take you out on a date, maybe you'd slap him for being delusional, but he simply didn't care then.

He approached you, and squatted beside you softly petting the dog.

"Jungkook?" You furrowed your eyebrows, attention shifting from the puppy to him.

"Y/N?"

"You're late, you know?" You huffed, feigning annoyance. Getting up, you started walking around the serene lake, Jungkook walking beside you.

"I know, I'm sorry." He cleared his throat, it being way too dry for his liking. You looked at the flowers in his hands and figured they were for you.

"So, why did you invite me here? Oh well, technically your friend did."

Jungkook needed water and was hoping he could dive into the lake. But the way you looked at him made him question if that would be enough to hydrate him.

"I- uh- was thinking..."

"You're awfully confident while playing, you know. You should really bring that over into your actual personality."

He remembered what his hyung, Namjoon taught him, 'Question, joke and complement.'

"Uh- do you come here often?" That was dumb, Jungkook realised as soon as it came out of his mouth.

"No, not really. I wish I did, my parents don't really allow me to go out that often."

"Oh, why is that?"

"What if someone, like you, kidnaps me?" You laughed, "Wouldn't be be a pretty situation, right?"

Jungkook relaxed a bit, your attitude didn't seem inapproachable at all. He had talked to you multiple times, but all after you lost a game against him. To be fair, he'd be annoyed too.

It was the complement stage, and Jungkook meant it when he said, "Your hair, it's really pretty- like you."

You blushed uncontrollably. This was the first time someone had called you pretty. Now it was your turn to shy away from him.

Jungkook thought it was so unbearable, that he couldn't hold it in anymore. He had to ask you. He had to get your answer. Seeing you blush made him even more infatuated with you.

"I uh- invited you here today to ask you something." He started.

You looked up at him with those bewitching eyes that had him at a loss for words. But he still managed to say, "Go out with me?"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A week after you rejected Jungkook, you were very unfortunately invited to watch the boys' basketball game. Ofcourse, Jungkook was going to be there, the thought made you want to crawl into your bed and hibernate till it was all over.

Jungkook was a great person, handsome, smart, and at times more shy than he should be. He was the typical high school crush and so much more.

Jungkook asking you out, despite the fact you had a slight distaste towards him, felt like a dream. But dreams are called dreams because they are too good to be true, right?

Jungkook was not the problem, never was. It was your strict parents. Telling them that you had a boyfriend was a suicide mission in itself.

After your refusal to date him, Jungkook had a huge mental breakdown and decided it'd be best if followed the path made for him by his father.

"You know, you're staring." Gaeul nudged your arm. Her remark made you quickly come out of your daze.

"At Jungkook? No way, I was just looking at the uh-"

"I think he knows you're staring."

"Fuck, should we leave?" You asked.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You didn't leave but stayed longer than anyone. The court was empty at this point except for the janitors who exchanged looks that probably translated, 'When's this one leaving?'

You felt a presence sit a foot next to you on the bleachers.

"Hey." He said. Jungkook was all showered and fresh. Hair still damp from it and skin smelling like soap.

"I should leave, shouldn't I?" You chuckled.

"Y/n, can I ask you something?"

You nodded.

"Why do you care what your parents think?"

"What?" You looked at him surprised.

"Are you sure you rejected me because you don't like me?"

"Jungkook, I-"

"Your friend, Gaeul told me how your parents will practically skin you alive if you date someone."

"I'm sorry but I can't go against them."

"Do you like me?" He shifted closer to you on the bench.

"I can't, Jungkook. Why don't you understand?"

"Do you like me?" He simply asked.

"I do, a lot."

With that he put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his body. The heat he radiated was overwhelming. You had never been this close to a boy before. Your stomach did a flip seeing how close his face was.

"That day, when I saw you, I realised, that I can't imagine taking a single step without you. I have no idea what happened to me, but I'm glad it did."

"Jungkook, I can't." You whispered.

"You don't seem like you mean it, say what you want."

You knew neither of your parents would approve of this but fuck, the pretty boy's eyes did something to your heart. It made you want to cry, something about him pulled you, and it was significant.

This was the exact moment you fell for him.

"I want to be your girlfriend."

Pulling you closer than humanly possible, he kissed you.

There goes your first kiss.

You felt so soft, your cocoa butter lip balm smelling ever so sweet, he wondered if it would taste like cocoa butter too, spoiler: it did.

Jungkook held you so delicately, kissing you like you were a fragile sculpture bound to crumble.

"Hey, get your asses out of here!" one of the janitors yelled.

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"Y/n! What is the meaning of this?" Your father yells at you.

"Dad, this is..." You tried to explain who the boy with his arm around your waist was.

You were in the final year of high school and Jungkook was already in college. This was the first time you brought Jungkook home to introduce him to your parents.

"Young woman, get yourself upstairs to your bedroom, I'll get rid of this... guy" His voice still holding lots of anger and disappointment.

You sigh, "Dad, this is Jungkook. He's... my boyfriend."

Your dad was speechless, and the disappointment was through the roof.

"We've been together for 3 years now." I gulp.

"That's enough!" He yells. "This is not what we expected from you. 3 years? You've been hiding this for 3 years now?"

Jungkook decided to speak up, "Sir, I love your daughter and she loves me. I promise you, she's the girl I'll marry. I hope you'll understand that" His grip on my waist tightens reassuringly.

You look at Jungkook, he had said these words a million times but now, in front of your father? This was something entirely different.

You take a deep breath, "Dad, I don't care if you give your blessings to our relationship or not, I just wanted you to know that I have him, I have Jungkook."

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You had somehow managed to get into the same prestigious university as your boyfriend and decided that you'll finally live together.

Your father couldn't say no to your relationship even if he wanted to. He cared more for your happiness and though he wasn't sure about Jungkook, he decided it would be the best to let you be your own person.

"Jungkook?" You look over your shoulder, hearing the sound of the door opening.

"You stayed up? I told you not to." Jungkook, sits beside you on the couch. He leans in and kisses your forehead.

"I couldn't sleep without you. You know how much I love your warmth." You rest your head on his chest.

Looking back, you should've placed the familiar scent that didn't smell like Jungkook which lingered on his shirt.

He pulled you closer to him, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You look up at his face, he was on the verge of tearing up.

"I-"

"Jungkook, hey." You cup his face and place a small peck on his lips. "You can tell me anything." You place your forehead against his.

"I don't know, I'm sorry for everything." He sobbed.

"What do you mean?" You peck his forehead, his nose, his cheek, everything you can you show him how much you loved him.

"I promise you, I love you."

"I know, Jungkook. I love you too. I promise. More than anything."

Jungkook cried in your arms, muttering around a hundred sorry's. He never said why he was apologising.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Just close your eyes." Your best friend, Gaeul urged you. You were highly suspicious of what was going to happen.

You were 22, fresh out of college and currently on a vacation with your closest friends and ofcourse, the love of your life, Jungkook.

"Gaeul, can you atleast tell me where we are going?" You feel the cold sand under your feet. A mix of chilly and windy was perfect to describe the evening.

"And now, open them." She quickly lets go of you and giggles as she leaves you in the middle of the beach.

But it wasn't dark like you had anticipated it to be, instead the perimeter was decorated with fairy lights and candles, which surprisingly didn't go out.

But something that shined brighter than any light on that beach was Jungkook.

He walked towards you and got down on one knee. His heart pounded with a mixture of nerves and excitement. He took your hand in his, feeling the warmth of your touch against his skin, grounding him in this moment of pure love and vulnerability.

You immediately knew what this was, "J-Jungkook..."

The air is filled with the scent of saltwater and the sound of seagulls in the distance, creating a serene backdrop for what is about to unfold.

"My dearest Y/N," he began, his voice quivering with emotion, "From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that my life would never be the same. You've been my guiding light, my source of strength, my reason to smile even on the darkest of days."

You smiled, the love was evident in every action of his.

"Do you remember our first kiss? Or hell, our first date at the old people park? Looking at you that day, I realised, you were the only one I've ever wanted in my life. The love that you gave me, I have only strived to return it to you."

He pulls out a small purple velvet box from his pocket.

"So, you let me be your first kiss, but would you let me be your last? Will you... Kim Y/n, marry me?"

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"I'll be late again, don't stay up." Jungkook said through the phone.

"I know, but I was hoping to help you relieve some stress today." You bite your lip.

He chuckled, "I'll be fine, I promise. Now be a good girl and go to sleep, yeah?"

"Alright, just be safe. Love you."

Jungkook had been coming awfully late for the past few months. Something about his dad's company being passed down to him. But when he did come home at 4 in the morning, he held a particular scent which seemed really familiar to you.

You weren't a fool afterall, it was a perfume, a ladies' perfume. But you knew, Jungkook had a sensitive nose, he preferred women's perfumes more than men's strong colognes.

And you knew, Jungkook did not have a single female in his life except his mother and his cousins.

So you didn't think much or pay much attention to your husband sneaking inside the covers at 2 in the morning, holding that familiar scent again. You were half asleep, your back to him, when he came anyways.

But you did pay attention to the bedroom door opening and realising that Jungkook was still in bed with you, but you hoped you were dreaming.

You could hear the smirk in Jungkook's voice when he whispered, "Such a whore, followed me home, did you?"

"Couldn't get enough of you." Someone else whispered back.

Alright now you were on high alert. There was someone in your bedroom who was a woman.

You could feel the bed dip more when you assumed the woman climbed onto the bed.

"You didn't fuck me enough." The voice, which sounded so, so familiar, whispered. It was so familiar that you didn't want to recognise it.

"Come on now, Gaeul." Jungkook's words made your breath and heartbeat all stop at once. "Coming to my home like this?"

"Please?" Gaeul whispered.

"What if Y/n wakes up? You need to get out, you know." Jungkook sounded way too calm for your liking.

"What about it?" Gaeul whispered back.

You couldn't even process anything. The shuffling, the wet sounds, the whimpers. All seemed like a dream. But why would it hurt so much if it was a dream?

Amidst all the whispers and sighs, you only heard, or well, could fathom one thing.

"Why are you with this bitch anyways?" Gaeul panted, whispering long out the window.

The sounds, the smell, the lies, everything was too much for you. You felt as if you were under a bus. The metaphorical bus being 11 years of lies worth.

The realisation that Gaeul was the one who helped you with Jungkook in the first place. Jungkook never showed a single sign that they might be involved with each other more than how they were supposed to be.

The tears you shed during this entire ordeal were enough to drench the entirety of your pillow, your hair and the sheets under you.

The disbelief overtook your sadness and disappointment. You wanted to scream but you couldn't.

Leon's jaw clenched as he toweled off. "You just got lucky, Safi," he retorted, tossing the towel onto the bench with a bit more force than necessary. "I'll beat you next time."

Their coach, a stern woman with a sharp tongue, called them over for feedback. They listened, exchanging glances that spoke volumes of their mutual disdain. Safi's eyes narrowed, her full lips pursed in concentration as she took in every word. Leon's posture was rigid, his arms crossed tightly across his broad chest.

The tension between them was palpable, a silent battle of wills. They both knew that their rivalry was the key to pushing each other to greatness, but it also meant they couldn't stand to be in the same room without sniping at one another.

Leon couldn't ignore the way Safi's eyes followed him as he moved, the way her gaze lingered on his physique. It was infuriating, and yet, a part of him reveled in the attention. He was aware of her attraction to him, and it fueled his desire to best her in every way possible.

Safi felt the same, her body reacting to his nearness with a heat she couldn't explain. Her hatred for him was as potent as the lust simmering just beneath the surface. Every time he looked at her, she felt exposed, vulnerable, and it made her want to win even more.

The coach's words grew fainter as their silent exchange grew more intense. The air thickened with unspoken desires, a dance of aggression and attraction that neither of them could resist. Without warning, Safi leaned in, her voice a seductive whisper, "If you're so sure you can beat me, why don't we settle it now?"

Leon's eyes snapped to hers, surprise and challenge warring within. "You're on," he said, the words leaving his mouth before he could think better of it.

They made their way back to the pool, the water a stark contrast to the heat of their rivalry. The chlorine scent grew stronger as they approached the edge, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the tiles. The atmosphere was charged, a heady mix of adrenaline and something else entirely.

Without a word, they dove in, their bodies slicing through the water with a grace that belied their mutual contempt. The race was on, and it was more than just for pride. It was a battle of wills, of dominance, of desire. Every stroke brought them closer, every kick of their legs a silent declaration of war.

Their eyes met across the water, the blue of Leon's burning into the brown of Safi's. The hatred was there, but so was something else, something primal and undeniable. The race was tight, their bodies gliding through the water like sharks hunting prey. The air grew thick with the anticipation of their inevitable collision.

As they reached the final stretch, Safi's hand touched the edge of the pool first, but only just. Leon's hand was a mere inch away, the tension in his body a coil ready to snap. They both knew this was far from over.

They surfaced, panting and glowing with exertion. Safi's eyes glinted with something that was definitely not just triumph. "Looks like I still have the upper hand," she murmured, her voice low and taunting.

Leon couldn't argue. He was so close to victory, so close to finally shutting her up, but she had once again bested him. He felt the anger boiling in his chest, but it was accompanied by a strange feeling of excitement, a thrill that was definitely not anger.

They climbed out of the pool, water streaming down their bodies, mingling together in a way that was almost intimate. The air was electric, the tension a living entity that danced between them.

Leon stepped closer, so close that their bodies almost touched. "This isn't over," he breathed, his voice a growl.

Safi's smile was a challenge. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

And with that, they turned and stalked off to their separate locker rooms, the echoes of their footsteps a promise of what was to come. The night was still young, and their rivalry was about to take a very steamy turn.

Leon's frustration grew as he peeled off his wet swimsuit. He couldn't shake the feeling of Safi's eyes on him, the way she had looked at him with something other than contempt. It was as if she had seen right through his bravado and found the raw need beneath.

In the locker room, Safi felt the same. Her body hummed with energy, her pulse racing from the adrenaline of the race and the undeniable attraction to her enemy. She knew she had pushed him, and she liked it.

As they both stepped under the hot showers, the water cascading over their taut muscles, they couldn't help but imagine the other's hands instead. The heat of the water did little to cool the fire that had been kindled between them.

Their paths crossed again as they were both leaving the locker room, towels wrapped around their waists. Safi's eyes traveled over Leon's toned body, and she licked her lips, unable to tear her gaze away. Leon caught the gesture and smirked, feeling a thrill of power.

"Looks like you can't get enough of losing," he said, stepping closer, their bodies almost brushing.

Safi's eyes flashed. "I don't lose," she countered, her voice low and dangerous.

Without another word, Leon reached out and grabbed the edge of her towel, pulling it away in one swift motion. Safi gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and something else.

Leon's smirk grew as he took in the sight of her naked body, her skin flushed from the shower and the heat of their encounter. "Care to make a wager?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

Safi stepped closer, her own towel dropping to the floor. "You're on," she whispered, her voice filled with a challenge that was now tinged with lust.

Their bodies collided, the hatred and passion merging into a fiery embrace. Hands roamed, exploring the contours of muscles honed from years of competition. Lips crashed together, teeth clashed, and tongues danced in a battle of dominance.

The sound of the showers faded into the background as they kissed, their bodies pressed so tightly that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. The steam enveloped them, a physical manifestation of the heat that had been simmering for so long.

Their kiss grew more frantic, their hands moving with a purpose that had nothing to do with swimming and everything to do with claiming what they had both denied themselves for too long. The rivalry had turned into something else entirely, something they hadn't seen coming but couldn't resist.

As the night went on, the line between love and hate grew blurrier, their actions speaking louder than any words could. They had crossed a threshold, and there was no going back. The pool, once a battleground, had become a playground for their most primal desires.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm that had nothing to do with the strokes they used in the water and everything to do with the passion that had been building between them. The tension that had fueled their rivalry now fueled their passion, a potent mix that left them both gasping for breath.

In the harsh light of the locker room, their bodies tangled together, they found themselves in a race of a different kind, one that had no clear winner or loser, only the sweet release of giving in to what they had both been fighting for so long.

And as the water rained down on them, mingling with their sighs and moans, they realized that perhaps their rivalry was never just about swimming. It was about this, about the raw, intense connection that had been there from the start, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

Leon's hands gripped Safi's hips, pulling her against him as he claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him closer. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed in the tiles, a symphony of desire that only the two of them could understand.

"You're mine," he growled, his teeth grazing her ear. "Say it."

"Never," she panted, her nails digging into his back. "I'm no one's but my own."

Their words were like gasoline on a fire, driving them both wild with need. He took her challenge, his hands roaming her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Safi arched into his touch, her breasts bouncing against his chest as he squeezed and pinched her nipples.

"Fuck," she cursed, the word a breathy plea that sent a shiver down his spine. He dropped his towel, his erection standing proud and demanding. Safi's eyes locked on it, a mix of hunger and defiance.

"You want it," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. "Say you want it."

"I want you to make me scream," she shot back, her voice filled with the same need that was driving him mad.

Leon didn't need any further encouragement. He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock nudging against her slick folds. "Ready to lose?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with lust.

Safi's response was to tighten her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Ready to make me yours?" she countered, her voice a sultry dare.

With a roar, Leon slammed into her, the force of his thrust pushing her back against the cold tiles. Safi gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as pleasure shot through her. They moved together, their bodies speaking a language that had nothing to do with words and everything to do with need.

Their dirty talk grew more heated, a back-and-forth of taunts and demands that only served to drive them higher. They were lost in each other, their rivalry now a dance of passion that neither could resist.

Leon's hands found her breasts, kneading them roughly as he thrust into her. Safi's nails scored down his back, leaving a trail of red that only made him more wild. "Harder," she begged, her voice a whip that urged him on.

He obliged, his strokes becoming more intense, more demanding. Safi's legs tightened around him, her heels digging into his ass as she met him thrust for thrust. The water beat down on them, turning their skin slick and their movements frantic.

Their bodies were a blur of motion, their breaths harsh and uneven. The tension grew, coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable. They were so close, so close to the edge.

"Come for me," Leon ground out, his voice thick with desire. "Prove to me you want this as much as I do."

Safi's eyes snapped open, meeting his with a fiery intensity. "Fuck you," she spat, and with that, she shattered around him, her orgasm ripping through her like a tidal wave. Leon followed her over the edge, his own release a roar that echoed through the locker room.

As they stood there, panting and spent, the water cascading over them, they knew that nothing would ever be the same again. The line between love and hate had been irrevocably blurred, and they had no choice but to embrace the chaos that came with it.

Leon leaned his forehead against Safi's, his breaths coming in ragged pants. "This changes nothing," he murmured, trying to convince himself as much as her.

Safi's eyes searched his, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Everything," she corrected, her voice low and filled with a satisfaction that went beyond the physical.

They dressed in silence, the tension between them thick and heavy. They both knew that their secret tryst would only add fuel to their rivalry, but they couldn't deny the connection that had been forged in the heat of their passion.

The following days were a dance of avoidance and longing. They pushed each other harder in the pool, the unspoken challenge in every stroke. Yet, every time their eyes met, there was a spark, a promise of what awaited them when the lights were off and the water was still.

Their next encounter came sooner than either had expected. After a particularly grueling practice, the pool was empty, and the rest of the team had retreated to the showers. Safi leaned against the side, her eyes locked on Leon as he approached, his muscles rippling with the effort of his final laps.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" she purred, her voice echoing in the vast space.

Leon didn't bother to feign ignorance. "Every. Fucking. Second."

Without another word, she slipped back into the water, her body gliding through the ripples like a siren's call. He followed, his need for her overriding any sense of propriety.

Under the water, their bodies met again, the cool liquid caressing their heated skin. The kiss was as explosive as the first, their tongues battling for dominance as their hands roamed and claimed.

This time, there was no pretense of a race, no wagers to be won. This was raw, unbridled lust that could no longer be contained. They surfaced for air, gasping and panting, their eyes never leaving each other's.

"I want you," Safi said, her voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel you inside me again."

Leon's response was to pull her closer, his hand slipping between her legs to tease her clit. Safi's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as she writhed against his touch.

They made their way to the pool's edge, the water lapping at their thighs. Leon bent her over the side, the cold tiles pressing into her skin as he entered her from behind. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pain and pleasure that had her begging for more.

Their movements grew erratic, their breaths mingling with the sound of the water. Safi's hands gripped the edge, her knuckles white with the effort of holding on as Leon pounded into her.

"Harder," she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.

Leon complied, his hips slamming into hers with a force that had them both teetering on the edge of oblivion. The water splashed around them, a testament to their passion.

When Safi came, it was with a scream that echoed through the empty pool. Leon followed her, his own release a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.

As they collapsed into each other's arms, their bodies slick with water and sweat, they knew that their secret would have to remain just that. But in the dark of night, when the water was still and the lights were out, they would continue their clandestine war of love and lust.

Leon and Safi couldn't keep their hands off each other, their training sessions turning into a silent war of touches and glances. They pushed each other to their limits in the pool, each victory a delicious taste of triumph that only made the inevitable surrender that much sweeter.

After one particularly intense practice, Safi waited for the others to leave before approaching Leon. "Meet me in the weight room," she said, her voice a seductive dare. He nodded, unable to resist the challenge in her eyes.

In the dimly lit room, the smell of sweat and iron hung heavy in the air. Safi was already there, a towel slung low on her hips, her skin glistening with the promise of a different kind of workout. "You've been holding back," she accused, her voice low and sultry.

Leon stepped closer, the space between them charged with tension. "I have not," he countered, his voice a gruff whisper.

"Prove it," she taunted, her eyes never leaving his.

Their next encounter was as explosive as the first, their bodies colliding with the same intensity that their personalities did. They fucked with the same ferocity that they swam, each stroke and touch a declaration of war and surrender all at once.

Leon bent Safi over a bench, her legs spread wide as he took her from behind. The sound of the weights clanking together was a metaphor for their tumultuous relationship, a symphony of passion and power that only grew more intense with each passing moment.

Safi moaned, her nails digging into the padded leather as Leon's hands gripped her hips. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his thrusts punctuating his words.

"Yes," she panted, her voice a mix of pleasure and defiance. "This is what I've always wanted."

Their rivalry had turned into something else entirely, a dance of desire that neither of them could resist. They hated each other, and yet, they craved each other with a need that was all-consuming.

Their trysts grew more frequent, stolen moments in the pool's shadows or the secluded corners of the gym. They were like addicts, unable to get enough of the high that came from their illicit encounters.

But as the university's swim meet approached, the stakes grew higher. The tension between them grew thicker, each practice a battleground for their hearts as much as their pride. They both knew that their secret could cost them everything if it was ever discovered.

And yet, they couldn't stay away from each other. Every time they were apart, the need grew stronger, a hunger that could only be satiated by the taste of victory and the feel of skin on skin.

Their final race was the most intense yet. The crowd roared, their names a chant that echoed through the water. They pushed each other, their eyes locked in a silent battle as their bodies moved in perfect sync.

As they reached the final lap, Safi felt Leon's hand brush against her thigh, a gentle caress that sent a bolt of electricity through her. She knew what it meant, and she responded in kind, their fingers tangling together for a brief moment before they broke away, sprinting towards the finish.

When Safi's hand touched the wall first, Leon couldn't help but feel a strange sense of pride. She had won, and yet, he had never felt more like a winner.

They climbed out of the pool, their bodies shaking with exhaustion and desire. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and want. And as they stared at each other, water droplets clinging to their lashes, they knew that their story was far from over.