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[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 28 — postin’ us _ written chapter // note at the end

“i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

───────────────────────────────────

you have walked the same path across your living room so many times tonight that you’re convinced you have permanently worn a visible trail into the floor.

from the couch to the kitchen.

kitchen to the front door.

front door back to the couch.

over and over and over again, like a tired record stuck on repeat. the route is burned into your muscle memory now. if someone blindfolded you, spun you around three times, and let you go, your feet would probably still carry you through the exact same loop without hesitation. your body knows every slight dip near the coffee table, every familiar turn, every little thing.

your brain, unfortunately, has not learned how to shut the fuck up.

the second you force yourself to stop pacing, your leg starts bouncing restlessly against the floor. the second you press your palm down on your knee to stop the bouncing, your fingers begin fidgeting — twisting the hem of your shirt, picking at your nails, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. and the moment your hands finally go still, your mind immediately latches onto something new to spiral over. it is an endless, exhausting cycle.

this is ridiculous.

genuinely, painfully, ridiculous.

he is just coming over.

he is just your jungkook.

just the same jungkook you have spent months arguing with, laughing with, fake dating, sleeping with, breaking up with, thinking about constantly, missing when he is not around, and… maybe even loving?

the question mark at the end of that thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. you let out a frustrated groan and drag both hands down your face, pressing your palms hard against your eyes until you see stars.

god.

why is he so stubborn?

seriously.

normal people text. normal people send a simple message that says “hey, can we talk?” normal people hear the word “no” and respond with something reasonable like “okay, maybe later.” normal people do not randomly announce that they are coming over and then refuse to explain why (even though you probably know why). normal people definitely do not bulldoze their way through every boundary you carefully try to build just because they have decided, in their stubborn little head, that they have something important to say right now.

but of course jungkook is not normal.

he is jeon fucking jungkook.

the same man who has somehow managed to become the biggest source of stress in your entire life while simultaneously being the person you miss the most. the contradiction feels deeply unfair. there should be actual laws against someone having this kind of effect on another human being.

you glance at your phone for what has to be the hundredth time, the screen lighting up your face in the dim apartment.

nothing. no new texts. no updates. no little dots to indicate he is typing. just the same stupid screen staring back at you, mocking your anxiety with its silence.

and you know he is already on his way. you know he is coming. and somehow that knowledge makes the waiting feel ten times worse than not knowing at all. because now your brain has way too much time to overthink every possible scenario, and thinking has never been your friend when it comes to him. especially when alexia and hoseok have spent the last ten minutes making everything infinitely worse.

“good luck, darlinggg, go get him!”

you can still hear alexia’s dramatic voice ringing in your ears like she is standing right next to you. she had not even waited five seconds after you told her jungkook was coming over. the second the words left your mouth, she gasped so loudly you genuinely thought she might have dropped her phone. then came the high-pitched squealing. then the rapid-fire assumptions. then the absolute, unshakable confidence.

“he is coming to confess.”

you had nearly hung up on her right then and there.

because what kind of thing is that to say? who just throws something like that out so casually? what if he is not coming to confess at all? what if he is angry? what if he wants closure? what if this is just some elaborate prank? what if he is coming here to tell you that you were right all along — that the boundaries were necessary and whatever this thing between you two was never going to work?

instead, apparently, everyone around you has collectively decided that jeon jungkook is arriving with some grand romantic declaration, all because annie finally told the truth about how she lied and never actually slept with him.

and the fact that hoseok agreed with alexia feels borderline insane.

because lately their favorite hobby has been arguing with each other over absolutely everything. you have noticed they have been getting strangely more comfortable around one another again, which is nice, but they still disagree on the smallest things. like, the movies. food. the weather. and they once spent twenty full minutes arguing about whether pigeons were real or not.

yet somehow, on this one single topic, they both landed on the exact same conclusion without hesitation.

“he is coming to confess.”

traitors. both of them. absolute traitors.

because now that dangerous little idea has planted itself deep inside your brain and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to yank it out.

what if they are right?

the thought makes your stomach twist violently. because that is all you have wanted for so long, is it not? for him to stop pretending. for him to look you in the eyes and say it out loud.

yet now that the possibility actually exists, you are not just nervous. you are fucking terrified.

because wanting something so badly is easy.

living with the reality of it — dealing with whatever comes after — feels impossibly harder.

and honestly, you don't even know when it happened.

when did this impossible, infuriating man become the center of your world? you try to pinpoint a moment, a specific day, but there isn't one. it was slow. insidious. it was in the way you both started lingering a little longer after hanging out with friends, the way those simple texts became a nightly ritual. it was the comfort. the comfort of being around him. it was never forced. it was just… easy to exist in the same space, to share comfortable silences, to know without asking that he'd understand a stupid reference or appreciate a specific kind of humor.

you got comfortable. too comfortable. you let your guard down around him in a way you hadn't with anyone else, and you never even realized you were doing it until the walls were already gone.

and then new year's happened.

the memory hits you like a physical blow — a dizzying, chaotic flash of colored lights, champagne, and his hand on the small of your back. and in his eyes, you saw something that mirrored the dizzy, terrifying hope building in your own chest.

and then it just… turned everything in a different direction. the fake dating, which had been a convenient, silly shield, suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse. the sleeping together, which was supposed to be casual, started feeling like something else entirely. it was like a switch had been flipped, and all the unspoken things between you were suddenly screaming for attention.

and you thought: shit. does he like you?

the question was so juvenile, so simple, yet it felt like the most important question in the universe. and the follow-up, the one that made your hands tremble: do you want him to like you?

do you want him?

at first, the thought was hazy.. kind of terrifying. a blur of what-ifs and potential heartbreak. but slowly, the thought started to feel good. really good. it felt warm. it felt right. it felt like sliding into a hot bath after being cold for too long. the idea of being with him officially — of not having to pretend, of getting to have this easy, comfortable warmth all the time — bloomed in your chest until it was the only thing you could think about.

you stop pacing long enough to lean heavily against the kitchen counter, pressing your palms flat against the cool surface as if it could ground you. the apartment is far too quiet.. every tiny sound feels amplified in the silence. the low hum of the refrigerator. the distant traffic outside the window. the steady ticking of the clock near the dining table. all of it blends together with the loud, relentless noise inside your head.

months ago, you would have laughed at yourself if you knew you would end up here — heart racing, palms sweaty, waiting for jungkook like this. actually, no. months ago you probably would have grabbed yourself by the shoulders and screamed “what the fuck are you thinking?” before physically dragging yourself away from him as fast as possible.

back then you knew dating jeon jungkook was a terrible idea. and you had valid points. there was absolutely no universe in which he qualified as boyfriend material. not according to hoseok. not according to alexia. definitely not according to you.

because the jungkook you met at the beginning and the jungkook who exists in your life now barely feel like the same person.

back then everything about him felt temporary. every smile. every late-night conversation. every promise. he was always halfway out the door, always chasing the next distraction — the next party, the next person, the next thrill. he never stayed still long enough for anything real to catch up to him. and that was what scared you the most. not that he was careless. not that he was reckless. but that nothing ever seemed to matter enough for him to stay.

now, though?

now he stays.

that is the difference.

somewhere between all the fake dates, the late-night conversations, the fights, the makeups, and the quiet moments in between, jungkook stopped feeling temporary. he stopped looking like someone who was constantly searching for the next escape. he is still impulsive. still stubborn as hell. still capable of making terrible decisions when his emotions get involved.

just like you.

you snort softly at the thought, shaking your head.

and honestly, if there was an award for two people spectacularly misunderstanding each other, you and jungkook would win by a landslide.

because he said he didn’t have a crush on you and you immediately assumed the worst. and then he assumed the worst right back!! and just like that, the two of you spent the next several days drowning in misery instead of having one single normal conversation.

incredibly mature. truly inspiring.

maybe hoseok and alexia should’ve physically restrained both of you. because what the hell were you thinking? and what was he thinking?

you heavily and rub at your temple. your head is throbbing from all the overthinking. every possible scenario has played out in your mind at least five times, and somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself that every single one ends in total disaster. maybe alexia and hoseok are wrong. maybe they’re right. maybe jungkook is coming here to confess. maybe he’s coming here to tell you you’re both idiots. at this point, you’re not sure which outcome scares you more.

then your doorbell rings.

your stomach drops instantly.

oh fuck. he’s here. you’re fucked.

you curse under your breath and force your legs to move. the short walk from the kitchen to the front door feels endless. your pulse thunders in your ears with every step, and by the time your fingers close around the handle, you’re half-convinced your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest.

one breath. then another.

you pull the door open.

and you freeze.

because jungkook is standing there, holding a bouquet.

you blink, momentarily stunned. for a long second, neither of you say anything. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, lifting the flowers a little as if he’s just now realizing how ridiculous he must look.

“hey, darling.” he says.

jungkook looks… nice. not in his usual effortless, annoyingly attractive way, this feels intentional. like he actually tried. he’s wearing a dark sweater pulled over a collared shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’d rolled them absentmindedly at some point. his hair is still messy though, the familiar black strands sticking up in places, as if he’d spent ten minutes trying to tame it before giving up and running his hands through it in frustration.

it’s very him.

your eyes drop to the bouquet. it’s a beautiful disaster, different flowers crammed together with zero rhyme or reason, tied with a slightly crooked pink ribbon that looks suspiciously homemade. it shouldn’t work. but somehow, it does. just like jungkook himself.

his hopeful little smile starts to falter under your prolonged silence.

“can i come in?” he asks softly. then, after a beat, even quieter, “please?”

your chest tightens painfully.

you kinda hate how much that one word affects you.

but you take a slow, steadying breath, and close your eyes for a second.

get it together, ___.

you’ve spent the entire week spiraling, overthinking, and making a complete fool of yourself. you can survive one conversation.

you have to. so, be strong. don’t read too much into anything. don’t assume. don’t let your brain run wild again!

by the time you open your eyes, you’ve shoved every spiraling thought as far down as they’ll go. without saying a word, you look away and step aside, leaving the doorway open.

jungkook visibly relaxes, just a fraction, but you notice. the tension in his shoulders eases as he steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. then, almost shyly, he holds the bouquet out toward you.

“these are for you.”

you blink. your gaze flicks from the flowers to his face, then back to the flowers again.

“thanks,” you mumble, carefully taking them from his hands.

“i hand-picked them,” he adds, pride creeping into his voice.

you look up. “you what?”

“i hand-picked them,” he repeats, a little more confidently this time. “couldn’t find a florist open this late.”

your eyes narrow. “from where?”

“there’s a garden a few houses down from yours.”

a beat of silence.

“you fucking stole these?”

“no!” jungkook looks genuinely offended, eyes widening. “what the hell?”

“jungkook.”

“i didn’t steal them!”

“these look stolen.”

“they’re not stolen!”

you glance down at the chaotic bouquet again. “they definitely look stolen.”

“i asked permission!” he insists, voice rising in pitch.

“sure.”

“i did!”

“mhm.”

“i literally offered to pay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “did you?”

“yes!”

“and?”

“and they said it was fine.” he huffs. “i’m not a criminal, darling.”

you stare at him. “alright,” you say slowly, lips twitching despite yourself. “if you say so, jungkook.”

it’s crazy how quickly the conversation slips into something familiar. how easy it is. how natural. because somewhere between accusing him of floral theft and watching him defend his honor with that dramatic, passionate expression, the iron band that had been crushing your chest all evening finally loosens.

not completely. but enough.

enough for you to remember what being around him usually feels like.

easy.

even when he’s being ridiculous. even when he’s cocky. even when you want to throw something at his head. being with jungkook has always felt strangely easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day. warm. comfortable. right.

and even now, after all the misunderstandings, your body seems to forget it was supposed to be terrified. for a few precious moments, everything feels… fine. like the last few days never happened. like it’s just you and him again, standing exactly where you’re supposed to be.

. . .

the silence that follows settles over the room almost too suddenly. one second you’re arguing over flowers, and the next, there’s nothing easy left to say.

your fingers tighten around the bouquet as you stare down at it. suddenly you’re aware of everything: the crooked pink ribbon, the uneven stems, the fact that he actually came, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him.

you’d spent days convincing yourself you were fine without him.

what a complete lie.

and when you finally glance up, jungkook is already watching you. this time, neither of you look away. and your heart does something warm in your chest.

he looks nervous. actually nervous.

you’ve seen jungkook cocky, annoying, stubborn, impulsive, and occasionally insufferable, but nervous? that’s rare. yet here it is, written all over his face. like he’s carefully measuring every breath, every shift of his weight, terrified of getting this wrong.

the realization makes your chest ache.

because despite everything, he’s still here. still trying. still looking at you like you’re worth every risk.

jungkook shifts on his feet. he draws in a breath, then another.

“___—”

you don’t let him finish.

before your brain can talk you out of it, before fear can slam the brakes again, you close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

for a split second, he freezes.

then he exhales, all the tension melting from his body as his arms come around you, strong, familiar, and so careful it hurts. the bouquet slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor between you, flowers scattering across the floor, but neither of you move to pick it up.

oh, you missed this.

you missed him so fucking much.

jungkook’s chin rests gently against the top of your head, one hand settling warm and steady between your shoulder blades. for the first time in days, the constant noise in your mind goes quiet.

your eyes sting.

annoying.

you hate crying. you hate looking vulnerable. but you let it happen anyway.

“what are you doing to me, jeon jungkook?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

you feel his breath hitch. his arms tighten around you just a fraction. the room suddenly feels smaller, quieter, filled entirely with him. you bury your face deeper into his shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide the tears.

it doesn’t work.

jungkook knows you too well.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back before he leans away just enough to look at you.

“are you crying?”

“no,” you answer immediately, but your voice cracks like a traitor.

jungkook stares.

“that was a very convincing no.”

“thank you.”

a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before it fades. now that he’s really looking at you, his expression softens into something pained.

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

“this.” his thumb gently brushes beneath your eye, catching a tear. “you crying.”

a fresh lump forms in your throat. if he’d teased you, you could’ve handled it. if he’d laughed, you could’ve rolled your eyes. but this soft, guilty look on his face? it’s devastatingly unfair.

“jungkook,” you mumble.

“i mean it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i really don’t like it.”

for a moment, the silence returns, until your eyes catch on the suspicious shine in his own.

you pull back slightly.

“are you—”

jungkook immediately looks away. “no.”

“you’re literally tearing up.”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“___.”

“you’re crying!”

“i’m not crying,” he insists, but his voice is thick.

a real laugh bubbles out of you, small, watery, and completely unexpected. jungkook groans, cheeks flushed.

“don’t laugh at me, darling.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re not.”

another soft laugh escapes you. because this is ridiculous. days of spiraling, overthinking, and heartbreak… and now you’re standing in your living room with tears in your eyes while jungkook looks one sentence away from joining you.

“wow, jungkook.”

“please don’t say anything.”

“i didn’t know you had this in you.”

the laughter fades, and the silence that follows feels softer. less scary. almost hopeful.

jungkook sighs softly, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

“can i ask you something?”

you nod.

his eyes search yours, careful and patient. “like… what happened in your head that day?”

you look away immediately. the question feels impossible to answer.

where would you even start? the misunderstanding? the jealousy that had burned through you? the way you’d convinced yourself he didn’t want you at all? all of it? none of it?

“i don’t know,” you admit quietly.

“that’s not true, ___.”

you sigh, fingers twisting together nervously. “i just…”

fuck. how do you even explain it without sounding completely pathetic?

“everything feels confusing right now.” your voice comes out smaller than you want. “i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

he shakes his head instantly. “of me?”

“no,” you answer so quickly that he visibly relaxes. “not of you. never of you.”

“then what?”

you exhale slowly, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “this. whatever this is.”

jungkook follows your hand movement, his expression softening again.

“i feel like everything’s happening really fast,” you continue, letting out a nervous laugh. “which is funny because it also feels like it’s been happening for months.”

“months?” he echoes.

“yeah, but… i don’t know.” you shake your head. “my brain feels like a mess.”

“same.”

you blink, surprised. “really?”

“___.” he gives you a pointed look, almost amused. “i showed up with flowers from a stranger’s garden, and i’m wearing this... outfit. i clearly don’t know what i’m doing either.”

that pulls a tiny smile from you. then jungkook takes a small step closer, his voice gentler. “we don’t have to figure everything out tonight, darling.”

“we don’t?”

“god, no.” he almost laughs, running a hand through his hair. “i barely figured out what i wanted to say on the drive here. i mean, i wanted to confess but, i just... ah fuck, i don’t know what to do. ”

“that’s reassuring.” you smile.

“thank you,” he replies dryly, lips twitching.

and for a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the air between you warm and tentative. then jungkook clears his throat.

“okay.”

you blink. “okay?”

“i have a suggestion.”

immediately suspicious, you narrow your eyes. “yeah?”

he grins, that familiar, boyish grin that makes your stomach flip.

“how about we calm down first?”

“i’m calm.”

“you cried.”

“you cried too.”

“fair.” his smile grows, softening at the edges. “how about we cuddle and talk?”

you blink again. “what?”

he shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s what we always do.”

and suddenly the suggestion doesn’t sound strange at all. because it is what you always do.

on good days, bad days, and every confusing day in between, the two of you somehow always ended up like this, tangled together, talking until the world felt a little less overwhelming.

“just us, ___.” he said softly.

. . . ,

and somehow, that’s exactly where you end up. curled up on your couch, tucked against jungkook’s side like you belong there. his arm is draped loosely around your shoulders, warm and steady. a blanket is thrown over both of you because neither of you could be bothered to argue about it. the familiarity of it all almost makes you laugh.

after days of hurt feelings and radio silence, after all the spiraling and misunderstandings, you’ve somehow found your way right back here. to this.

you pressed into his warmth.

his fingers absentmindedly tracing small, lazy patterns on your arm. the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek.

it’s comfortable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to forget why you were ever upset in the first place.

for a long while, neither of you speak. you just breathe each other in, letting the leftover tension slowly dissolve. letting your heartbeat settle. letting yourself admit, quietly and without embarrassment, how much you missed this.

how much you missed him.

how much you like him.

and the realization doesn’t feel scary anymore. it just feels ... true.

jungkook’s fingers keep drawing gentle circles against your skin. you pretend not to notice. he pretends not to notice you noticing.

eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“okay,” he murmurs. “can we talk about that day?”

your stomach twists instantly.

“which day?” you ask, even though you already know.

“darling.”

you sigh. “alright, fine.”

you pull the blanket a little higher, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on the edge. “okay… go ahead.”

jungkook shifts slightly beside you, careful not to jostle you too much.

“so basically…” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words. “you texted me because you liked me.”

your entire face burns.

“jungkook,” you groan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“and you wanted to know if i felt the same way.”

“i guess…” you mumble.

“and then you accidentally made it sound like you hated me.”

you sit up instantly, eyes wide. “i do not hate you!”

“i know that now,” he says, lips twitching.

“i didn’t hate you then either!”

“well, i didn’t know that.”

“how?” you demand.

“because, darling…” jungkook gives you a look that’s equal parts fond and amused. “have you ever seen yourself when you’re serious? and the way you text when you’re upset?”

you blink. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s terrifying.”

you smack his chest. jungkook laughs, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you where you’re pressed against him.

“i was nervous, okay?” you admit, cheeks burning.

“you definitely were.”

“i didn’t know how to ask.”

his expression softens immediately. “i understand.”

you glance down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i really didn’t.”

for a moment, the teasing fades. the truth feels embarrassingly raw, because you know how long you’d stared at your phone, deleting and rewriting those messages a dozen times before finally hitting send.

“i understand, darling,” jungkook says again, quieter this time. the gentleness in his voice makes your heart do a little flip.

you look away first, because apparently eye contact is still too dangerous. then after a beat, you clear your throat.

“okay. my turn.”

jungkook immediately looks nervous, which is honestly a little satisfying.

“why did you say it?”

his brows knit together. “say what?”

“don’t make me repeat it.”

“oh.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “that.”

“yes, that.”

jungkook drops his head back against the couch cushion. “fuck... can we agree to never discuss that sentence again?”

“absolutely not. i want to know.”

he sighs dramatically. for a long moment he stays quiet, visibly thinking. you wait, watching the way his jaw tightens and relaxes.

“well?” you press gently.

jungkook exhales. “i don’t know.”

“jungkook.”

“okay, i know.” he takes another breath. his voice drops, suddenly vulnerable in a way that catches you off guard. “i just… i didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean…” he shrugs awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. “i liked being your friend. i like talking to you. i like hanging out with you.” his voice gets softer. “i like us. i like you.”

your chest squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. because that’s not even supposed to sound romantic, and yet it does. hearing jeon jungkook, the guy who’s always so effortlessly cocky and confident, admit something so simple and sincere makes your head spin.

is this actually happening right now?

the fuckboy. the jeon jungkook — is sitting here under a blanket with you, looking nervous and honest, telling you he likes you.

“i just...” he speaks again, looking awkward. “i genuinely thought you only wanted to be friends.”

you blink.

“and i thought that if i admitted i liked you and you didn't feel the same way...” he trails off for a second, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled across both your laps. “that would've been it. the end of... whatever this is. us. everything, i guess.”

he lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused.

“and i really didn't want that.”

“oh jungkook...”

“yeah.”

“but uh.. why though?”

jungkook looks at you like you've asked the stupidest question in the world. “because you kept talking about boundaries, woman!”

“but that was because i panicked!”

“exactly.”

“jungkook!”

“what?” he laughs helplessly. “from my perspective, darling, it sounded like you were trying to put me in the friend zone as gently as possible.”

you stare. he stares back. and suddenly it clicks.

“so you panicked too.” you say carefully.

“yep.”

you laugh again. a real, genuine laugh this time.

“and then i said i didn't have a crush on you.”

you shake your head, smiling to yourself, before saying; “well, i'm glad we cleared it up.”

something warm flashes across his face. it's not just relief. it's deeper than that. it's the look of someone who has been lost for months and has finally, finally found solid ground again. something that makes your chest ache a little in the best possible way.

“yeah,” he says softly, his breath warm against your scalp. “me too.”

you really are glad.

so incredibly, overwhelmingly glad.

because somehow the pressure is gone. the little misunderstanding that's been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud has finally disappeared. the weird distance that had crept in between you. the carefulness with which you'd both been talking around each other. all of it.

gone.

you're not officially together. neither of you has actually said the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” there hasn't been some huge conversation about labels or exclusivity or whatever comes next.

but somehow that doesn't feel important right now.

what matters is this.

being here. curled up together. the familiar scent of him filling your senses. knowing.

finally knowing.

and no more guessing. no more overthinking. no more pretending. just the truth sitting comfortably between you, solid and real.

. . . ,

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing a calming presence beside you. then a thought suddenly hits you.

your eyes narrow.

“wait.”

jungkook immediately looks suspicious.

“what?”

“who actually was annie?”

he blinks.

“...annie?”

“yes, annie.”

“what about her?”

you stare at him. and he stares back. confusion flickers across his face before realization suddenly hits.

“oh.”

“oh?”

jungkook starts laughing. it's not a small laugh either. it's an actual, deep-throated laughter that makes his chest shake behind you. which somehow only makes you more annoyed.

“why are you laughing?”

“because that's what you're thinking about right now? i totally forgot about her.” he manages between laughs.

“answer the question, jeon jungkook.”

“i don't know.”

you blink.

“...what?”

“i don't know.”

“jungkook.”

“i'm serious.” he lifts both hands in surrender. “she was just some random girl.”

“random?”

“yeah.”

“she posted pictures with you!!”

“i know.”

“and implied she slept with you.”

“i know, baby.”

you just stare at him. and jungkook just shrugs — a casual, dismissive little shrug.

“i never liked her, by the way,” he adds quickly. “she really is a random woman.”

“good.”

the word leaves your mouth embarrassingly fast. and you notice the way his lips twitch.

“good?” he asks.

“yes.”

“were you jealous?”

“no.”

“liar.”

you roll your eyes. “fuck off.”

then, after a beat of silence, you speak again. “what she did was weird though,”

“yeah.” he nods.

“like genuinely.”

“mhm.”

you pull back slightly so you can look at him properly.

“why would she post pictures like that without your consent?”

jungkook shrugs again.

infuriatingly unbothered.

“people are weird.”

“that's not a serious answer, jeon.”

“i'm fine, darling.”

“that's not the point!”

he glances at you, his expression softening when he sees how genuinely bothered you are. because honestly? you are. the whole thing was creepy. invasive. and the fact that he's acting so casual about it somehow annoys you more than the lie itself.

"take it seriously."

his eyebrows lift. "i am."

"no you're not."

"darling."

"someone lied about sleeping with you!"

"yeah."

"that's insane."

"yeah."

"and you’re acting like she borrowed your book without asking."

that finally earns a real laugh. jungkook looks at you for a long second after that, a slow smile spreading across his face. you narrow your eyes at him. "you're planning something."

"i'm always planning something." he grins — turning from mischievous to downright dangerous. the kind of grin that usually means you're about to do something crazy. "darling," he starts. "let's post a picture together."

oh. that's all?

you frown. "what?"

"a picture," he repeats, sitting up straighter and turning toward you. "you know? photo, image, camera?"

"i know what a picture is." you roll your eyes again.

"great." he claps his hands together once. "then let's get to work."

you immediately make a face. jungkook laughs. "i just want to post something..." he says. "something that would piss everyone off."

you narrow your eyes again. "jungkook."

"especially annie."

that makes your ears perk up. then, a realization slowly begins forming in your head.

oh.

his smile grows.

“are you trying to recreate the valentina pic with me?” you ask.

"maybe."

"nuh uh."

"hear me out, darling."

"absolutely not."

"darling, please."

he shifts closer, his eyes are practically sparkling now. completely shameless. looking like he's already convinced himself this is the greatest idea he's ever had. "this one is much better though."

you stare at him. "better?"

"wayyyy better."

"how?" you tilt your head, genuinely curious about whatever nonsense explanation he's about to give.

jungkook doesn't even hesitate. his gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. and then, with that annoyingly attractive smile of his, he says:

“because this time i actually like the person i'm taking it with.”

───────────────────────────────────

note: yayyy, it's finally out!! 🎉 this chapter ended up being around 5.7k words, which was originally all i planned to write... and then i got carried away and ended up writing extra scenes (SMUT—) 🫠

i didn't want to include it in this chapter because i really wanted this one to stay soft, sweet, and focused on this moment between them. but since i'd already written it (and it's somehow 4.4k words long), i decided to post it separately on my patreon!!

it's available as a bonus chapter on my archive tier, and i’m linking it -> HERE ♡ i'll also be posting more extras, bonus content, and other things there in the future!! xoxo

[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 28 — postin’ us _ written chapter // note at the end

“i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

───────────────────────────────────

you have walked the same path across your living room so many times tonight that you’re convinced you have permanently worn a visible trail into the floor.

from the couch to the kitchen.

kitchen to the front door.

front door back to the couch.

over and over and over again, like a tired record stuck on repeat. the route is burned into your muscle memory now. if someone blindfolded you, spun you around three times, and let you go, your feet would probably still carry you through the exact same loop without hesitation. your body knows every slight dip near the coffee table, every familiar turn, every little thing.

your brain, unfortunately, has not learned how to shut the fuck up.

the second you force yourself to stop pacing, your leg starts bouncing restlessly against the floor. the second you press your palm down on your knee to stop the bouncing, your fingers begin fidgeting — twisting the hem of your shirt, picking at your nails, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. and the moment your hands finally go still, your mind immediately latches onto something new to spiral over. it is an endless, exhausting cycle.

this is ridiculous.

genuinely, painfully, ridiculous.

he is just coming over.

he is just your jungkook.

just the same jungkook you have spent months arguing with, laughing with, fake dating, sleeping with, breaking up with, thinking about constantly, missing when he is not around, and… maybe even loving?

the question mark at the end of that thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. you let out a frustrated groan and drag both hands down your face, pressing your palms hard against your eyes until you see stars.

god.

why is he so stubborn?

seriously.

normal people text. normal people send a simple message that says “hey, can we talk?” normal people hear the word “no” and respond with something reasonable like “okay, maybe later.” normal people do not randomly announce that they are coming over and then refuse to explain why (even though you probably know why). normal people definitely do not bulldoze their way through every boundary you carefully try to build just because they have decided, in their stubborn little head, that they have something important to say right now.

but of course jungkook is not normal.

he is jeon fucking jungkook.

the same man who has somehow managed to become the biggest source of stress in your entire life while simultaneously being the person you miss the most. the contradiction feels deeply unfair. there should be actual laws against someone having this kind of effect on another human being.

you glance at your phone for what has to be the hundredth time, the screen lighting up your face in the dim apartment.

nothing. no new texts. no updates. no little dots to indicate he is typing. just the same stupid screen staring back at you, mocking your anxiety with its silence.

and you know he is already on his way. you know he is coming. and somehow that knowledge makes the waiting feel ten times worse than not knowing at all. because now your brain has way too much time to overthink every possible scenario, and thinking has never been your friend when it comes to him. especially when alexia and hoseok have spent the last ten minutes making everything infinitely worse.

“good luck, darlinggg, go get him!”

you can still hear alexia’s dramatic voice ringing in your ears like she is standing right next to you. she had not even waited five seconds after you told her jungkook was coming over. the second the words left your mouth, she gasped so loudly you genuinely thought she might have dropped her phone. then came the high-pitched squealing. then the rapid-fire assumptions. then the absolute, unshakable confidence.

“he is coming to confess.”

you had nearly hung up on her right then and there.

because what kind of thing is that to say? who just throws something like that out so casually? what if he is not coming to confess at all? what if he is angry? what if he wants closure? what if this is just some elaborate prank? what if he is coming here to tell you that you were right all along — that the boundaries were necessary and whatever this thing between you two was never going to work?

instead, apparently, everyone around you has collectively decided that jeon jungkook is arriving with some grand romantic declaration, all because annie finally told the truth about how she lied and never actually slept with him.

and the fact that hoseok agreed with alexia feels borderline insane.

because lately their favorite hobby has been arguing with each other over absolutely everything. you have noticed they have been getting strangely more comfortable around one another again, which is nice, but they still disagree on the smallest things. like, the movies. food. the weather. and they once spent twenty full minutes arguing about whether pigeons were real or not.

yet somehow, on this one single topic, they both landed on the exact same conclusion without hesitation.

“he is coming to confess.”

traitors. both of them. absolute traitors.

because now that dangerous little idea has planted itself deep inside your brain and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to yank it out.

what if they are right?

the thought makes your stomach twist violently. because that is all you have wanted for so long, is it not? for him to stop pretending. for him to look you in the eyes and say it out loud.

yet now that the possibility actually exists, you are not just nervous. you are fucking terrified.

because wanting something so badly is easy.

living with the reality of it — dealing with whatever comes after — feels impossibly harder.

and honestly, you don't even know when it happened.

when did this impossible, infuriating man become the center of your world? you try to pinpoint a moment, a specific day, but there isn't one. it was slow. insidious. it was in the way you both started lingering a little longer after hanging out with friends, the way those simple texts became a nightly ritual. it was the comfort. the comfort of being around him. it was never forced. it was just… easy to exist in the same space, to share comfortable silences, to know without asking that he'd understand a stupid reference or appreciate a specific kind of humor.

you got comfortable. too comfortable. you let your guard down around him in a way you hadn't with anyone else, and you never even realized you were doing it until the walls were already gone.

and then new year's happened.

the memory hits you like a physical blow — a dizzying, chaotic flash of colored lights, champagne, and his hand on the small of your back. and in his eyes, you saw something that mirrored the dizzy, terrifying hope building in your own chest.

and then it just… turned everything in a different direction. the fake dating, which had been a convenient, silly shield, suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse. the sleeping together, which was supposed to be casual, started feeling like something else entirely. it was like a switch had been flipped, and all the unspoken things between you were suddenly screaming for attention.

and you thought: shit. does he like you?

the question was so juvenile, so simple, yet it felt like the most important question in the universe. and the follow-up, the one that made your hands tremble: do you want him to like you?

do you want him?

at first, the thought was hazy.. kind of terrifying. a blur of what-ifs and potential heartbreak. but slowly, the thought started to feel good. really good. it felt warm. it felt right. it felt like sliding into a hot bath after being cold for too long. the idea of being with him officially — of not having to pretend, of getting to have this easy, comfortable warmth all the time — bloomed in your chest until it was the only thing you could think about.

you stop pacing long enough to lean heavily against the kitchen counter, pressing your palms flat against the cool surface as if it could ground you. the apartment is far too quiet.. every tiny sound feels amplified in the silence. the low hum of the refrigerator. the distant traffic outside the window. the steady ticking of the clock near the dining table. all of it blends together with the loud, relentless noise inside your head.

months ago, you would have laughed at yourself if you knew you would end up here — heart racing, palms sweaty, waiting for jungkook like this. actually, no. months ago you probably would have grabbed yourself by the shoulders and screamed “what the fuck are you thinking?” before physically dragging yourself away from him as fast as possible.

back then you knew dating jeon jungkook was a terrible idea. and you had valid points. there was absolutely no universe in which he qualified as boyfriend material. not according to hoseok. not according to alexia. definitely not according to you.

because the jungkook you met at the beginning and the jungkook who exists in your life now barely feel like the same person.

back then everything about him felt temporary. every smile. every late-night conversation. every promise. he was always halfway out the door, always chasing the next distraction — the next party, the next person, the next thrill. he never stayed still long enough for anything real to catch up to him. and that was what scared you the most. not that he was careless. not that he was reckless. but that nothing ever seemed to matter enough for him to stay.

now, though?

now he stays.

that is the difference.

somewhere between all the fake dates, the late-night conversations, the fights, the makeups, and the quiet moments in between, jungkook stopped feeling temporary. he stopped looking like someone who was constantly searching for the next escape. he is still impulsive. still stubborn as hell. still capable of making terrible decisions when his emotions get involved.

just like you.

you snort softly at the thought, shaking your head.

and honestly, if there was an award for two people spectacularly misunderstanding each other, you and jungkook would win by a landslide.

because he said he didn’t have a crush on you and you immediately assumed the worst. and then he assumed the worst right back!! and just like that, the two of you spent the next several days drowning in misery instead of having one single normal conversation.

incredibly mature. truly inspiring.

maybe hoseok and alexia should’ve physically restrained both of you. because what the hell were you thinking? and what was he thinking?

you heavily and rub at your temple. your head is throbbing from all the overthinking. every possible scenario has played out in your mind at least five times, and somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself that every single one ends in total disaster. maybe alexia and hoseok are wrong. maybe they’re right. maybe jungkook is coming here to confess. maybe he’s coming here to tell you you’re both idiots. at this point, you’re not sure which outcome scares you more.

then your doorbell rings.

your stomach drops instantly.

oh fuck. he’s here. you’re fucked.

you curse under your breath and force your legs to move. the short walk from the kitchen to the front door feels endless. your pulse thunders in your ears with every step, and by the time your fingers close around the handle, you’re half-convinced your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest.

one breath. then another.

you pull the door open.

and you freeze.

because jungkook is standing there, holding a bouquet.

you blink, momentarily stunned. for a long second, neither of you say anything. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, lifting the flowers a little as if he’s just now realizing how ridiculous he must look.

“hey, darling.” he says.

jungkook looks… nice. not in his usual effortless, annoyingly attractive way, this feels intentional. like he actually tried. he’s wearing a dark sweater pulled over a collared shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’d rolled them absentmindedly at some point. his hair is still messy though, the familiar black strands sticking up in places, as if he’d spent ten minutes trying to tame it before giving up and running his hands through it in frustration.

it’s very him.

your eyes drop to the bouquet. it’s a beautiful disaster, different flowers crammed together with zero rhyme or reason, tied with a slightly crooked pink ribbon that looks suspiciously homemade. it shouldn’t work. but somehow, it does. just like jungkook himself.

his hopeful little smile starts to falter under your prolonged silence.

“can i come in?” he asks softly. then, after a beat, even quieter, “please?”

your chest tightens painfully.

you kinda hate how much that one word affects you.

but you take a slow, steadying breath, and close your eyes for a second.

get it together, ___.

you’ve spent the entire week spiraling, overthinking, and making a complete fool of yourself. you can survive one conversation.

you have to. so, be strong. don’t read too much into anything. don’t assume. don’t let your brain run wild again!

by the time you open your eyes, you’ve shoved every spiraling thought as far down as they’ll go. without saying a word, you look away and step aside, leaving the doorway open.

jungkook visibly relaxes, just a fraction, but you notice. the tension in his shoulders eases as he steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. then, almost shyly, he holds the bouquet out toward you.

“these are for you.”

you blink. your gaze flicks from the flowers to his face, then back to the flowers again.

“thanks,” you mumble, carefully taking them from his hands.

“i hand-picked them,” he adds, pride creeping into his voice.

you look up. “you what?”

“i hand-picked them,” he repeats, a little more confidently this time. “couldn’t find a florist open this late.”

your eyes narrow. “from where?”

“there’s a garden a few houses down from yours.”

a beat of silence.

“you fucking stole these?”

“no!” jungkook looks genuinely offended, eyes widening. “what the hell?”

“jungkook.”

“i didn’t steal them!”

“these look stolen.”

“they’re not stolen!”

you glance down at the chaotic bouquet again. “they definitely look stolen.”

“i asked permission!” he insists, voice rising in pitch.

“sure.”

“i did!”

“mhm.”

“i literally offered to pay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “did you?”

“yes!”

“and?”

“and they said it was fine.” he huffs. “i’m not a criminal, darling.”

you stare at him. “alright,” you say slowly, lips twitching despite yourself. “if you say so, jungkook.”

it’s crazy how quickly the conversation slips into something familiar. how easy it is. how natural. because somewhere between accusing him of floral theft and watching him defend his honor with that dramatic, passionate expression, the iron band that had been crushing your chest all evening finally loosens.

not completely. but enough.

enough for you to remember what being around him usually feels like.

easy.

even when he’s being ridiculous. even when he’s cocky. even when you want to throw something at his head. being with jungkook has always felt strangely easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day. warm. comfortable. right.

and even now, after all the misunderstandings, your body seems to forget it was supposed to be terrified. for a few precious moments, everything feels… fine. like the last few days never happened. like it’s just you and him again, standing exactly where you’re supposed to be.

. . .

the silence that follows settles over the room almost too suddenly. one second you’re arguing over flowers, and the next, there’s nothing easy left to say.

your fingers tighten around the bouquet as you stare down at it. suddenly you’re aware of everything: the crooked pink ribbon, the uneven stems, the fact that he actually came, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him.

you’d spent days convincing yourself you were fine without him.

what a complete lie.

and when you finally glance up, jungkook is already watching you. this time, neither of you look away. and your heart does something warm in your chest.

he looks nervous. actually nervous.

you’ve seen jungkook cocky, annoying, stubborn, impulsive, and occasionally insufferable, but nervous? that’s rare. yet here it is, written all over his face. like he’s carefully measuring every breath, every shift of his weight, terrified of getting this wrong.

the realization makes your chest ache.

because despite everything, he’s still here. still trying. still looking at you like you’re worth every risk.

jungkook shifts on his feet. he draws in a breath, then another.

“___—”

you don’t let him finish.

before your brain can talk you out of it, before fear can slam the brakes again, you close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

for a split second, he freezes.

then he exhales, all the tension melting from his body as his arms come around you, strong, familiar, and so careful it hurts. the bouquet slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor between you, flowers scattering across the floor, but neither of you move to pick it up.

oh, you missed this.

you missed him so fucking much.

jungkook’s chin rests gently against the top of your head, one hand settling warm and steady between your shoulder blades. for the first time in days, the constant noise in your mind goes quiet.

your eyes sting.

annoying.

you hate crying. you hate looking vulnerable. but you let it happen anyway.

“what are you doing to me, jeon jungkook?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

you feel his breath hitch. his arms tighten around you just a fraction. the room suddenly feels smaller, quieter, filled entirely with him. you bury your face deeper into his shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide the tears.

it doesn’t work.

jungkook knows you too well.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back before he leans away just enough to look at you.

“are you crying?”

“no,” you answer immediately, but your voice cracks like a traitor.

jungkook stares.

“that was a very convincing no.”

“thank you.”

a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before it fades. now that he’s really looking at you, his expression softens into something pained.

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

“this.” his thumb gently brushes beneath your eye, catching a tear. “you crying.”

a fresh lump forms in your throat. if he’d teased you, you could’ve handled it. if he’d laughed, you could’ve rolled your eyes. but this soft, guilty look on his face? it’s devastatingly unfair.

“jungkook,” you mumble.

“i mean it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i really don’t like it.”

for a moment, the silence returns, until your eyes catch on the suspicious shine in his own.

you pull back slightly.

“are you—”

jungkook immediately looks away. “no.”

“you’re literally tearing up.”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“___.”

“you’re crying!”

“i’m not crying,” he insists, but his voice is thick.

a real laugh bubbles out of you, small, watery, and completely unexpected. jungkook groans, cheeks flushed.

“don’t laugh at me, darling.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re not.”

another soft laugh escapes you. because this is ridiculous. days of spiraling, overthinking, and heartbreak… and now you’re standing in your living room with tears in your eyes while jungkook looks one sentence away from joining you.

“wow, jungkook.”

“please don’t say anything.”

“i didn’t know you had this in you.”

the laughter fades, and the silence that follows feels softer. less scary. almost hopeful.

jungkook sighs softly, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

“can i ask you something?”

you nod.

his eyes search yours, careful and patient. “like… what happened in your head that day?”

you look away immediately. the question feels impossible to answer.

where would you even start? the misunderstanding? the jealousy that had burned through you? the way you’d convinced yourself he didn’t want you at all? all of it? none of it?

“i don’t know,” you admit quietly.

“that’s not true, ___.”

you sigh, fingers twisting together nervously. “i just…”

fuck. how do you even explain it without sounding completely pathetic?

“everything feels confusing right now.” your voice comes out smaller than you want. “i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

he shakes his head instantly. “of me?”

“no,” you answer so quickly that he visibly relaxes. “not of you. never of you.”

“then what?”

you exhale slowly, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “this. whatever this is.”

jungkook follows your hand movement, his expression softening again.

“i feel like everything’s happening really fast,” you continue, letting out a nervous laugh. “which is funny because it also feels like it’s been happening for months.”

“months?” he echoes.

“yeah, but… i don’t know.” you shake your head. “my brain feels like a mess.”

“same.”

you blink, surprised. “really?”

“___.” he gives you a pointed look, almost amused. “i showed up with flowers from a stranger’s garden, and i’m wearing this... outfit. i clearly don’t know what i’m doing either.”

that pulls a tiny smile from you. then jungkook takes a small step closer, his voice gentler. “we don’t have to figure everything out tonight, darling.”

“we don’t?”

“god, no.” he almost laughs, running a hand through his hair. “i barely figured out what i wanted to say on the drive here. i mean, i wanted to confess but, i just... ah fuck, i don’t know what to do. ”

“that’s reassuring.” you smile.

“thank you,” he replies dryly, lips twitching.

and for a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the air between you warm and tentative. then jungkook clears his throat.

“okay.”

you blink. “okay?”

“i have a suggestion.”

immediately suspicious, you narrow your eyes. “yeah?”

he grins, that familiar, boyish grin that makes your stomach flip.

“how about we calm down first?”

“i’m calm.”

“you cried.”

“you cried too.”

“fair.” his smile grows, softening at the edges. “how about we cuddle and talk?”

you blink again. “what?”

he shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s what we always do.”

and suddenly the suggestion doesn’t sound strange at all. because it is what you always do.

on good days, bad days, and every confusing day in between, the two of you somehow always ended up like this, tangled together, talking until the world felt a little less overwhelming.

“just us, ___.” he said softly.

. . . ,

and somehow, that’s exactly where you end up. curled up on your couch, tucked against jungkook’s side like you belong there. his arm is draped loosely around your shoulders, warm and steady. a blanket is thrown over both of you because neither of you could be bothered to argue about it. the familiarity of it all almost makes you laugh.

after days of hurt feelings and radio silence, after all the spiraling and misunderstandings, you’ve somehow found your way right back here. to this.

you pressed into his warmth.

his fingers absentmindedly tracing small, lazy patterns on your arm. the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek.

it’s comfortable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to forget why you were ever upset in the first place.

for a long while, neither of you speak. you just breathe each other in, letting the leftover tension slowly dissolve. letting your heartbeat settle. letting yourself admit, quietly and without embarrassment, how much you missed this.

how much you missed him.

how much you like him.

and the realization doesn’t feel scary anymore. it just feels ... true.

jungkook’s fingers keep drawing gentle circles against your skin. you pretend not to notice. he pretends not to notice you noticing.

eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“okay,” he murmurs. “can we talk about that day?”

your stomach twists instantly.

“which day?” you ask, even though you already know.

“darling.”

you sigh. “alright, fine.”

you pull the blanket a little higher, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on the edge. “okay… go ahead.”

jungkook shifts slightly beside you, careful not to jostle you too much.

“so basically…” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words. “you texted me because you liked me.”

your entire face burns.

“jungkook,” you groan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“and you wanted to know if i felt the same way.”

“i guess…” you mumble.

“and then you accidentally made it sound like you hated me.”

you sit up instantly, eyes wide. “i do not hate you!”

“i know that now,” he says, lips twitching.

“i didn’t hate you then either!”

“well, i didn’t know that.”

“how?” you demand.

“because, darling…” jungkook gives you a look that’s equal parts fond and amused. “have you ever seen yourself when you’re serious? and the way you text when you’re upset?”

you blink. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s terrifying.”

you smack his chest. jungkook laughs, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you where you’re pressed against him.

“i was nervous, okay?” you admit, cheeks burning.

“you definitely were.”

“i didn’t know how to ask.”

his expression softens immediately. “i understand.”

you glance down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i really didn’t.”

for a moment, the teasing fades. the truth feels embarrassingly raw, because you know how long you’d stared at your phone, deleting and rewriting those messages a dozen times before finally hitting send.

“i understand, darling,” jungkook says again, quieter this time. the gentleness in his voice makes your heart do a little flip.

you look away first, because apparently eye contact is still too dangerous. then after a beat, you clear your throat.

“okay. my turn.”

jungkook immediately looks nervous, which is honestly a little satisfying.

“why did you say it?”

his brows knit together. “say what?”

“don’t make me repeat it.”

“oh.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “that.”

“yes, that.”

jungkook drops his head back against the couch cushion. “fuck... can we agree to never discuss that sentence again?”

“absolutely not. i want to know.”

he sighs dramatically. for a long moment he stays quiet, visibly thinking. you wait, watching the way his jaw tightens and relaxes.

“well?” you press gently.

jungkook exhales. “i don’t know.”

“jungkook.”

“okay, i know.” he takes another breath. his voice drops, suddenly vulnerable in a way that catches you off guard. “i just… i didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean…” he shrugs awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. “i liked being your friend. i like talking to you. i like hanging out with you.” his voice gets softer. “i like us. i like you.”

your chest squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. because that’s not even supposed to sound romantic, and yet it does. hearing jeon jungkook, the guy who’s always so effortlessly cocky and confident, admit something so simple and sincere makes your head spin.

is this actually happening right now?

the fuckboy. the jeon jungkook — is sitting here under a blanket with you, looking nervous and honest, telling you he likes you.

“i just...” he speaks again, looking awkward. “i genuinely thought you only wanted to be friends.”

you blink.

“and i thought that if i admitted i liked you and you didn't feel the same way...” he trails off for a second, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled across both your laps. “that would've been it. the end of... whatever this is. us. everything, i guess.”

he lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused.

“and i really didn't want that.”

“oh jungkook...”

“yeah.”

“but uh.. why though?”

jungkook looks at you like you've asked the stupidest question in the world. “because you kept talking about boundaries, woman!”

“but that was because i panicked!”

“exactly.”

“jungkook!”

“what?” he laughs helplessly. “from my perspective, darling, it sounded like you were trying to put me in the friend zone as gently as possible.”

you stare. he stares back. and suddenly it clicks.

“so you panicked too.” you say carefully.

“yep.”

you laugh again. a real, genuine laugh this time.

“and then i said i didn't have a crush on you.”

you shake your head, smiling to yourself, before saying; “well, i'm glad we cleared it up.”

something warm flashes across his face. it's not just relief. it's deeper than that. it's the look of someone who has been lost for months and has finally, finally found solid ground again. something that makes your chest ache a little in the best possible way.

“yeah,” he says softly, his breath warm against your scalp. “me too.”

you really are glad.

so incredibly, overwhelmingly glad.

because somehow the pressure is gone. the little misunderstanding that's been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud has finally disappeared. the weird distance that had crept in between you. the carefulness with which you'd both been talking around each other. all of it.

gone.

you're not officially together. neither of you has actually said the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” there hasn't been some huge conversation about labels or exclusivity or whatever comes next.

but somehow that doesn't feel important right now.

what matters is this.

being here. curled up together. the familiar scent of him filling your senses. knowing.

finally knowing.

and no more guessing. no more overthinking. no more pretending. just the truth sitting comfortably between you, solid and real.

. . . ,

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing a calming presence beside you. then a thought suddenly hits you.

your eyes narrow.

“wait.”

jungkook immediately looks suspicious.

“what?”

“who actually was annie?”

he blinks.

“...annie?”

“yes, annie.”

“what about her?”

you stare at him. and he stares back. confusion flickers across his face before realization suddenly hits.

“oh.”

“oh?”

jungkook starts laughing. it's not a small laugh either. it's an actual, deep-throated laughter that makes his chest shake behind you. which somehow only makes you more annoyed.

“why are you laughing?”

“because that's what you're thinking about right now? i totally forgot about her.” he manages between laughs.

“answer the question, jeon jungkook.”

“i don't know.”

you blink.

“...what?”

“i don't know.”

“jungkook.”

“i'm serious.” he lifts both hands in surrender. “she was just some random girl.”

“random?”

“yeah.”

“she posted pictures with you!!”

“i know.”

“and implied she slept with you.”

“i know, baby.”

you just stare at him. and jungkook just shrugs — a casual, dismissive little shrug.

“i never liked her, by the way,” he adds quickly. “she really is a random woman.”

“good.”

the word leaves your mouth embarrassingly fast. and you notice the way his lips twitch.

“good?” he asks.

“yes.”

“were you jealous?”

“no.”

“liar.”

you roll your eyes. “fuck off.”

then, after a beat of silence, you speak again. “what she did was weird though,”

“yeah.” he nods.

“like genuinely.”

“mhm.”

you pull back slightly so you can look at him properly.

“why would she post pictures like that without your consent?”

jungkook shrugs again.

infuriatingly unbothered.

“people are weird.”

“that's not a serious answer, jeon.”

“i'm fine, darling.”

“that's not the point!”

he glances at you, his expression softening when he sees how genuinely bothered you are. because honestly? you are. the whole thing was creepy. invasive. and the fact that he's acting so casual about it somehow annoys you more than the lie itself.

"take it seriously."

his eyebrows lift. "i am."

"no you're not."

"darling."

"someone lied about sleeping with you!"

"yeah."

"that's insane."

"yeah."

"and you’re acting like she borrowed your book without asking."

that finally earns a real laugh. jungkook looks at you for a long second after that, a slow smile spreading across his face. you narrow your eyes at him. "you're planning something."

"i'm always planning something." he grins — turning from mischievous to downright dangerous. the kind of grin that usually means you're about to do something crazy. "darling," he starts. "let's post a picture together."

oh. that's all?

you frown. "what?"

"a picture," he repeats, sitting up straighter and turning toward you. "you know? photo, image, camera?"

"i know what a picture is." you roll your eyes again.

"great." he claps his hands together once. "then let's get to work."

you immediately make a face. jungkook laughs. "i just want to post something..." he says. "something that would piss everyone off."

you narrow your eyes again. "jungkook."

"especially annie."

that makes your ears perk up. then, a realization slowly begins forming in your head.

oh.

his smile grows.

“are you trying to recreate the valentina pic with me?” you ask.

"maybe."

"nuh uh."

"hear me out, darling."

"absolutely not."

"darling, please."

he shifts closer, his eyes are practically sparkling now. completely shameless. looking like he's already convinced himself this is the greatest idea he's ever had. "this one is much better though."

you stare at him. "better?"

"wayyyy better."

"how?" you tilt your head, genuinely curious about whatever nonsense explanation he's about to give.

jungkook doesn't even hesitate. his gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. and then, with that annoyingly attractive smile of his, he says:

“because this time i actually like the person i'm taking it with.”

───────────────────────────────────

note: yayyy, it's finally out!! 🎉 this chapter ended up being around 5.7k words, which was originally all i planned to write... and then i got carried away and ended up writing extra scenes (SMUT—) 🫠

i didn't want to include it in this chapter because i really wanted this one to stay soft, sweet, and focused on this moment between them. but since i'd already written it (and it's somehow 4.4k words long), i decided to post it separately on my patreon!!

it's available as a bonus chapter on my archive tier, and i’m linking it -> HERE ♡ i'll also be posting more extras, bonus content, and other things there in the future!! xoxo

[luvismenu]

𝜗ৎ series taglist: @taebokkiii @noookiiieee @fiddlebiddls @gukiemeu @bangtannkook @httpjeonlicious @akirawhore @ot7galore @miniiminie @closertojungkook @nadzzzblog @geniusbangtan @muhhpfuuu @marinaity @ggukieshoe @pradaheeseung @0506kook @nono13bnd @naibcenary @seriluvsya @tomskookie @jungkooksseuphoria @joonieswildflower @louxmclll @wonderlandkook @stuffy16 @cookyland @tremendousstarlighttragedy @aeri101 @livelaughl0ve3 @cherryreadsfics @cursedcursives @kkjagi @girlyminmin03 @tejal802002 @alurix7 @star-my @tina-20 @kenickieshickies @bktherulaswifey @sleepykittycx @viababysworld @viababysworld @therealmrsbahng @inspiringwaves @alfie2401 @cselene163836 @gaebestie

[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 28 — postin’ us _ written chapter // note at the end

“i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

───────────────────────────────────

you have walked the same path across your living room so many times tonight that you’re convinced you have permanently worn a visible trail into the floor.

from the couch to the kitchen.

kitchen to the front door.

front door back to the couch.

over and over and over again, like a tired record stuck on repeat. the route is burned into your muscle memory now. if someone blindfolded you, spun you around three times, and let you go, your feet would probably still carry you through the exact same loop without hesitation. your body knows every slight dip near the coffee table, every familiar turn, every little thing.

your brain, unfortunately, has not learned how to shut the fuck up.

the second you force yourself to stop pacing, your leg starts bouncing restlessly against the floor. the second you press your palm down on your knee to stop the bouncing, your fingers begin fidgeting — twisting the hem of your shirt, picking at your nails, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. and the moment your hands finally go still, your mind immediately latches onto something new to spiral over. it is an endless, exhausting cycle.

this is ridiculous.

genuinely, painfully, ridiculous.

he is just coming over.

he is just your jungkook.

just the same jungkook you have spent months arguing with, laughing with, fake dating, sleeping with, breaking up with, thinking about constantly, missing when he is not around, and… maybe even loving?

the question mark at the end of that thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. you let out a frustrated groan and drag both hands down your face, pressing your palms hard against your eyes until you see stars.

god.

why is he so stubborn?

seriously.

normal people text. normal people send a simple message that says “hey, can we talk?” normal people hear the word “no” and respond with something reasonable like “okay, maybe later.” normal people do not randomly announce that they are coming over and then refuse to explain why (even though you probably know why). normal people definitely do not bulldoze their way through every boundary you carefully try to build just because they have decided, in their stubborn little head, that they have something important to say right now.

but of course jungkook is not normal.

he is jeon fucking jungkook.

the same man who has somehow managed to become the biggest source of stress in your entire life while simultaneously being the person you miss the most. the contradiction feels deeply unfair. there should be actual laws against someone having this kind of effect on another human being.

you glance at your phone for what has to be the hundredth time, the screen lighting up your face in the dim apartment.

nothing. no new texts. no updates. no little dots to indicate he is typing. just the same stupid screen staring back at you, mocking your anxiety with its silence.

and you know he is already on his way. you know he is coming. and somehow that knowledge makes the waiting feel ten times worse than not knowing at all. because now your brain has way too much time to overthink every possible scenario, and thinking has never been your friend when it comes to him. especially when alexia and hoseok have spent the last ten minutes making everything infinitely worse.

“good luck, darlinggg, go get him!”

you can still hear alexia’s dramatic voice ringing in your ears like she is standing right next to you. she had not even waited five seconds after you told her jungkook was coming over. the second the words left your mouth, she gasped so loudly you genuinely thought she might have dropped her phone. then came the high-pitched squealing. then the rapid-fire assumptions. then the absolute, unshakable confidence.

“he is coming to confess.”

you had nearly hung up on her right then and there.

because what kind of thing is that to say? who just throws something like that out so casually? what if he is not coming to confess at all? what if he is angry? what if he wants closure? what if this is just some elaborate prank? what if he is coming here to tell you that you were right all along — that the boundaries were necessary and whatever this thing between you two was never going to work?

instead, apparently, everyone around you has collectively decided that jeon jungkook is arriving with some grand romantic declaration, all because annie finally told the truth about how she lied and never actually slept with him.

and the fact that hoseok agreed with alexia feels borderline insane.

because lately their favorite hobby has been arguing with each other over absolutely everything. you have noticed they have been getting strangely more comfortable around one another again, which is nice, but they still disagree on the smallest things. like, the movies. food. the weather. and they once spent twenty full minutes arguing about whether pigeons were real or not.

yet somehow, on this one single topic, they both landed on the exact same conclusion without hesitation.

“he is coming to confess.”

traitors. both of them. absolute traitors.

because now that dangerous little idea has planted itself deep inside your brain and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to yank it out.

what if they are right?

the thought makes your stomach twist violently. because that is all you have wanted for so long, is it not? for him to stop pretending. for him to look you in the eyes and say it out loud.

yet now that the possibility actually exists, you are not just nervous. you are fucking terrified.

because wanting something so badly is easy.

living with the reality of it — dealing with whatever comes after — feels impossibly harder.

and honestly, you don't even know when it happened.

when did this impossible, infuriating man become the center of your world? you try to pinpoint a moment, a specific day, but there isn't one. it was slow. insidious. it was in the way you both started lingering a little longer after hanging out with friends, the way those simple texts became a nightly ritual. it was the comfort. the comfort of being around him. it was never forced. it was just… easy to exist in the same space, to share comfortable silences, to know without asking that he'd understand a stupid reference or appreciate a specific kind of humor.

you got comfortable. too comfortable. you let your guard down around him in a way you hadn't with anyone else, and you never even realized you were doing it until the walls were already gone.

and then new year's happened.

the memory hits you like a physical blow — a dizzying, chaotic flash of colored lights, champagne, and his hand on the small of your back. and in his eyes, you saw something that mirrored the dizzy, terrifying hope building in your own chest.

and then it just… turned everything in a different direction. the fake dating, which had been a convenient, silly shield, suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse. the sleeping together, which was supposed to be casual, started feeling like something else entirely. it was like a switch had been flipped, and all the unspoken things between you were suddenly screaming for attention.

and you thought: shit. does he like you?

the question was so juvenile, so simple, yet it felt like the most important question in the universe. and the follow-up, the one that made your hands tremble: do you want him to like you?

do you want him?

at first, the thought was hazy.. kind of terrifying. a blur of what-ifs and potential heartbreak. but slowly, the thought started to feel good. really good. it felt warm. it felt right. it felt like sliding into a hot bath after being cold for too long. the idea of being with him officially — of not having to pretend, of getting to have this easy, comfortable warmth all the time — bloomed in your chest until it was the only thing you could think about.

you stop pacing long enough to lean heavily against the kitchen counter, pressing your palms flat against the cool surface as if it could ground you. the apartment is far too quiet.. every tiny sound feels amplified in the silence. the low hum of the refrigerator. the distant traffic outside the window. the steady ticking of the clock near the dining table. all of it blends together with the loud, relentless noise inside your head.

months ago, you would have laughed at yourself if you knew you would end up here — heart racing, palms sweaty, waiting for jungkook like this. actually, no. months ago you probably would have grabbed yourself by the shoulders and screamed “what the fuck are you thinking?” before physically dragging yourself away from him as fast as possible.

back then you knew dating jeon jungkook was a terrible idea. and you had valid points. there was absolutely no universe in which he qualified as boyfriend material. not according to hoseok. not according to alexia. definitely not according to you.

because the jungkook you met at the beginning and the jungkook who exists in your life now barely feel like the same person.

back then everything about him felt temporary. every smile. every late-night conversation. every promise. he was always halfway out the door, always chasing the next distraction — the next party, the next person, the next thrill. he never stayed still long enough for anything real to catch up to him. and that was what scared you the most. not that he was careless. not that he was reckless. but that nothing ever seemed to matter enough for him to stay.

now, though?

now he stays.

that is the difference.

somewhere between all the fake dates, the late-night conversations, the fights, the makeups, and the quiet moments in between, jungkook stopped feeling temporary. he stopped looking like someone who was constantly searching for the next escape. he is still impulsive. still stubborn as hell. still capable of making terrible decisions when his emotions get involved.

just like you.

you snort softly at the thought, shaking your head.

and honestly, if there was an award for two people spectacularly misunderstanding each other, you and jungkook would win by a landslide.

because he said he didn’t have a crush on you and you immediately assumed the worst. and then he assumed the worst right back!! and just like that, the two of you spent the next several days drowning in misery instead of having one single normal conversation.

incredibly mature. truly inspiring.

maybe hoseok and alexia should’ve physically restrained both of you. because what the hell were you thinking? and what was he thinking?

you heavily and rub at your temple. your head is throbbing from all the overthinking. every possible scenario has played out in your mind at least five times, and somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself that every single one ends in total disaster. maybe alexia and hoseok are wrong. maybe they’re right. maybe jungkook is coming here to confess. maybe he’s coming here to tell you you’re both idiots. at this point, you’re not sure which outcome scares you more.

then your doorbell rings.

your stomach drops instantly.

oh fuck. he’s here. you’re fucked.

you curse under your breath and force your legs to move. the short walk from the kitchen to the front door feels endless. your pulse thunders in your ears with every step, and by the time your fingers close around the handle, you’re half-convinced your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest.

one breath. then another.

you pull the door open.

and you freeze.

because jungkook is standing there, holding a bouquet.

you blink, momentarily stunned. for a long second, neither of you say anything. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, lifting the flowers a little as if he’s just now realizing how ridiculous he must look.

“hey, darling.” he says.

jungkook looks… nice. not in his usual effortless, annoyingly attractive way, this feels intentional. like he actually tried. he’s wearing a dark sweater pulled over a collared shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’d rolled them absentmindedly at some point. his hair is still messy though, the familiar black strands sticking up in places, as if he’d spent ten minutes trying to tame it before giving up and running his hands through it in frustration.

it’s very him.

your eyes drop to the bouquet. it’s a beautiful disaster, different flowers crammed together with zero rhyme or reason, tied with a slightly crooked pink ribbon that looks suspiciously homemade. it shouldn’t work. but somehow, it does. just like jungkook himself.

his hopeful little smile starts to falter under your prolonged silence.

“can i come in?” he asks softly. then, after a beat, even quieter, “please?”

your chest tightens painfully.

you kinda hate how much that one word affects you.

but you take a slow, steadying breath, and close your eyes for a second.

get it together, ___.

you’ve spent the entire week spiraling, overthinking, and making a complete fool of yourself. you can survive one conversation.

you have to. so, be strong. don’t read too much into anything. don’t assume. don’t let your brain run wild again!

by the time you open your eyes, you’ve shoved every spiraling thought as far down as they’ll go. without saying a word, you look away and step aside, leaving the doorway open.

jungkook visibly relaxes, just a fraction, but you notice. the tension in his shoulders eases as he steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. then, almost shyly, he holds the bouquet out toward you.

“these are for you.”

you blink. your gaze flicks from the flowers to his face, then back to the flowers again.

“thanks,” you mumble, carefully taking them from his hands.

“i hand-picked them,” he adds, pride creeping into his voice.

you look up. “you what?”

“i hand-picked them,” he repeats, a little more confidently this time. “couldn’t find a florist open this late.”

your eyes narrow. “from where?”

“there’s a garden a few houses down from yours.”

a beat of silence.

“you fucking stole these?”

“no!” jungkook looks genuinely offended, eyes widening. “what the hell?”

“jungkook.”

“i didn’t steal them!”

“these look stolen.”

“they’re not stolen!”

you glance down at the chaotic bouquet again. “they definitely look stolen.”

“i asked permission!” he insists, voice rising in pitch.

“sure.”

“i did!”

“mhm.”

“i literally offered to pay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “did you?”

“yes!”

“and?”

“and they said it was fine.” he huffs. “i’m not a criminal, darling.”

you stare at him. “alright,” you say slowly, lips twitching despite yourself. “if you say so, jungkook.”

it’s crazy how quickly the conversation slips into something familiar. how easy it is. how natural. because somewhere between accusing him of floral theft and watching him defend his honor with that dramatic, passionate expression, the iron band that had been crushing your chest all evening finally loosens.

not completely. but enough.

enough for you to remember what being around him usually feels like.

easy.

even when he’s being ridiculous. even when he’s cocky. even when you want to throw something at his head. being with jungkook has always felt strangely easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day. warm. comfortable. right.

and even now, after all the misunderstandings, your body seems to forget it was supposed to be terrified. for a few precious moments, everything feels… fine. like the last few days never happened. like it’s just you and him again, standing exactly where you’re supposed to be.

. . .

the silence that follows settles over the room almost too suddenly. one second you’re arguing over flowers, and the next, there’s nothing easy left to say.

your fingers tighten around the bouquet as you stare down at it. suddenly you’re aware of everything: the crooked pink ribbon, the uneven stems, the fact that he actually came, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him.

you’d spent days convincing yourself you were fine without him.

what a complete lie.

and when you finally glance up, jungkook is already watching you. this time, neither of you look away. and your heart does something warm in your chest.

he looks nervous. actually nervous.

you’ve seen jungkook cocky, annoying, stubborn, impulsive, and occasionally insufferable, but nervous? that’s rare. yet here it is, written all over his face. like he’s carefully measuring every breath, every shift of his weight, terrified of getting this wrong.

the realization makes your chest ache.

because despite everything, he’s still here. still trying. still looking at you like you’re worth every risk.

jungkook shifts on his feet. he draws in a breath, then another.

“___—”

you don’t let him finish.

before your brain can talk you out of it, before fear can slam the brakes again, you close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

for a split second, he freezes.

then he exhales, all the tension melting from his body as his arms come around you, strong, familiar, and so careful it hurts. the bouquet slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor between you, flowers scattering across the floor, but neither of you move to pick it up.

oh, you missed this.

you missed him so fucking much.

jungkook’s chin rests gently against the top of your head, one hand settling warm and steady between your shoulder blades. for the first time in days, the constant noise in your mind goes quiet.

your eyes sting.

annoying.

you hate crying. you hate looking vulnerable. but you let it happen anyway.

“what are you doing to me, jeon jungkook?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

you feel his breath hitch. his arms tighten around you just a fraction. the room suddenly feels smaller, quieter, filled entirely with him. you bury your face deeper into his shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide the tears.

it doesn’t work.

jungkook knows you too well.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back before he leans away just enough to look at you.

“are you crying?”

“no,” you answer immediately, but your voice cracks like a traitor.

jungkook stares.

“that was a very convincing no.”

“thank you.”

a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before it fades. now that he’s really looking at you, his expression softens into something pained.

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

“this.” his thumb gently brushes beneath your eye, catching a tear. “you crying.”

a fresh lump forms in your throat. if he’d teased you, you could’ve handled it. if he’d laughed, you could’ve rolled your eyes. but this soft, guilty look on his face? it’s devastatingly unfair.

“jungkook,” you mumble.

“i mean it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i really don’t like it.”

for a moment, the silence returns, until your eyes catch on the suspicious shine in his own.

you pull back slightly.

“are you—”

jungkook immediately looks away. “no.”

“you’re literally tearing up.”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“___.”

“you’re crying!”

“i’m not crying,” he insists, but his voice is thick.

a real laugh bubbles out of you, small, watery, and completely unexpected. jungkook groans, cheeks flushed.

“don’t laugh at me, darling.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re not.”

another soft laugh escapes you. because this is ridiculous. days of spiraling, overthinking, and heartbreak… and now you’re standing in your living room with tears in your eyes while jungkook looks one sentence away from joining you.

“wow, jungkook.”

“please don’t say anything.”

“i didn’t know you had this in you.”

the laughter fades, and the silence that follows feels softer. less scary. almost hopeful.

jungkook sighs softly, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

“can i ask you something?”

you nod.

his eyes search yours, careful and patient. “like… what happened in your head that day?”

you look away immediately. the question feels impossible to answer.

where would you even start? the misunderstanding? the jealousy that had burned through you? the way you’d convinced yourself he didn’t want you at all? all of it? none of it?

“i don’t know,” you admit quietly.

“that’s not true, ___.”

you sigh, fingers twisting together nervously. “i just…”

fuck. how do you even explain it without sounding completely pathetic?

“everything feels confusing right now.” your voice comes out smaller than you want. “i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

he shakes his head instantly. “of me?”

“no,” you answer so quickly that he visibly relaxes. “not of you. never of you.”

“then what?”

you exhale slowly, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “this. whatever this is.”

jungkook follows your hand movement, his expression softening again.

“i feel like everything’s happening really fast,” you continue, letting out a nervous laugh. “which is funny because it also feels like it’s been happening for months.”

“months?” he echoes.

“yeah, but… i don’t know.” you shake your head. “my brain feels like a mess.”

“same.”

you blink, surprised. “really?”

“___.” he gives you a pointed look, almost amused. “i showed up with flowers from a stranger’s garden, and i’m wearing this... outfit. i clearly don’t know what i’m doing either.”

that pulls a tiny smile from you. then jungkook takes a small step closer, his voice gentler. “we don’t have to figure everything out tonight, darling.”

“we don’t?”

“god, no.” he almost laughs, running a hand through his hair. “i barely figured out what i wanted to say on the drive here. i mean, i wanted to confess but, i just... ah fuck, i don’t know what to do. ”

“that’s reassuring.” you smile.

“thank you,” he replies dryly, lips twitching.

and for a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the air between you warm and tentative. then jungkook clears his throat.

“okay.”

you blink. “okay?”

“i have a suggestion.”

immediately suspicious, you narrow your eyes. “yeah?”

he grins, that familiar, boyish grin that makes your stomach flip.

“how about we calm down first?”

“i’m calm.”

“you cried.”

“you cried too.”

“fair.” his smile grows, softening at the edges. “how about we cuddle and talk?”

you blink again. “what?”

he shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s what we always do.”

and suddenly the suggestion doesn’t sound strange at all. because it is what you always do.

on good days, bad days, and every confusing day in between, the two of you somehow always ended up like this, tangled together, talking until the world felt a little less overwhelming.

“just us, ___.” he said softly.

. . . ,

and somehow, that’s exactly where you end up. curled up on your couch, tucked against jungkook’s side like you belong there. his arm is draped loosely around your shoulders, warm and steady. a blanket is thrown over both of you because neither of you could be bothered to argue about it. the familiarity of it all almost makes you laugh.

after days of hurt feelings and radio silence, after all the spiraling and misunderstandings, you’ve somehow found your way right back here. to this.

you pressed into his warmth.

his fingers absentmindedly tracing small, lazy patterns on your arm. the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek.

it’s comfortable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to forget why you were ever upset in the first place.

for a long while, neither of you speak. you just breathe each other in, letting the leftover tension slowly dissolve. letting your heartbeat settle. letting yourself admit, quietly and without embarrassment, how much you missed this.

how much you missed him.

how much you like him.

and the realization doesn’t feel scary anymore. it just feels ... true.

jungkook’s fingers keep drawing gentle circles against your skin. you pretend not to notice. he pretends not to notice you noticing.

eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“okay,” he murmurs. “can we talk about that day?”

your stomach twists instantly.

“which day?” you ask, even though you already know.

“darling.”

you sigh. “alright, fine.”

you pull the blanket a little higher, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on the edge. “okay… go ahead.”

jungkook shifts slightly beside you, careful not to jostle you too much.

“so basically…” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words. “you texted me because you liked me.”

your entire face burns.

“jungkook,” you groan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“and you wanted to know if i felt the same way.”

“i guess…” you mumble.

“and then you accidentally made it sound like you hated me.”

you sit up instantly, eyes wide. “i do not hate you!”

“i know that now,” he says, lips twitching.

“i didn’t hate you then either!”

“well, i didn’t know that.”

“how?” you demand.

“because, darling…” jungkook gives you a look that’s equal parts fond and amused. “have you ever seen yourself when you’re serious? and the way you text when you’re upset?”

you blink. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s terrifying.”

you smack his chest. jungkook laughs, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you where you’re pressed against him.

“i was nervous, okay?” you admit, cheeks burning.

“you definitely were.”

“i didn’t know how to ask.”

his expression softens immediately. “i understand.”

you glance down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i really didn’t.”

for a moment, the teasing fades. the truth feels embarrassingly raw, because you know how long you’d stared at your phone, deleting and rewriting those messages a dozen times before finally hitting send.

“i understand, darling,” jungkook says again, quieter this time. the gentleness in his voice makes your heart do a little flip.

you look away first, because apparently eye contact is still too dangerous. then after a beat, you clear your throat.

“okay. my turn.”

jungkook immediately looks nervous, which is honestly a little satisfying.

“why did you say it?”

his brows knit together. “say what?”

“don’t make me repeat it.”

“oh.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “that.”

“yes, that.”

jungkook drops his head back against the couch cushion. “fuck... can we agree to never discuss that sentence again?”

“absolutely not. i want to know.”

he sighs dramatically. for a long moment he stays quiet, visibly thinking. you wait, watching the way his jaw tightens and relaxes.

“well?” you press gently.

jungkook exhales. “i don’t know.”

“jungkook.”

“okay, i know.” he takes another breath. his voice drops, suddenly vulnerable in a way that catches you off guard. “i just… i didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean…” he shrugs awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. “i liked being your friend. i like talking to you. i like hanging out with you.” his voice gets softer. “i like us. i like you.”

your chest squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. because that’s not even supposed to sound romantic, and yet it does. hearing jeon jungkook, the guy who’s always so effortlessly cocky and confident, admit something so simple and sincere makes your head spin.

is this actually happening right now?

the fuckboy. the jeon jungkook — is sitting here under a blanket with you, looking nervous and honest, telling you he likes you.

“i just...” he speaks again, looking awkward. “i genuinely thought you only wanted to be friends.”

you blink.

“and i thought that if i admitted i liked you and you didn't feel the same way...” he trails off for a second, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled across both your laps. “that would've been it. the end of... whatever this is. us. everything, i guess.”

he lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused.

“and i really didn't want that.”

“oh jungkook...”

“yeah.”

“but uh.. why though?”

jungkook looks at you like you've asked the stupidest question in the world. “because you kept talking about boundaries, woman!”

“but that was because i panicked!”

“exactly.”

“jungkook!”

“what?” he laughs helplessly. “from my perspective, darling, it sounded like you were trying to put me in the friend zone as gently as possible.”

you stare. he stares back. and suddenly it clicks.

“so you panicked too.” you say carefully.

“yep.”

you laugh again. a real, genuine laugh this time.

“and then i said i didn't have a crush on you.”

you shake your head, smiling to yourself, before saying; “well, i'm glad we cleared it up.”

something warm flashes across his face. it's not just relief. it's deeper than that. it's the look of someone who has been lost for months and has finally, finally found solid ground again. something that makes your chest ache a little in the best possible way.

“yeah,” he says softly, his breath warm against your scalp. “me too.”

you really are glad.

so incredibly, overwhelmingly glad.

because somehow the pressure is gone. the little misunderstanding that's been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud has finally disappeared. the weird distance that had crept in between you. the carefulness with which you'd both been talking around each other. all of it.

gone.

you're not officially together. neither of you has actually said the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” there hasn't been some huge conversation about labels or exclusivity or whatever comes next.

but somehow that doesn't feel important right now.

what matters is this.

being here. curled up together. the familiar scent of him filling your senses. knowing.

finally knowing.

and no more guessing. no more overthinking. no more pretending. just the truth sitting comfortably between you, solid and real.

. . . ,

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing a calming presence beside you. then a thought suddenly hits you.

your eyes narrow.

“wait.”

jungkook immediately looks suspicious.

“what?”

“who actually was annie?”

he blinks.

“...annie?”

“yes, annie.”

“what about her?”

you stare at him. and he stares back. confusion flickers across his face before realization suddenly hits.

“oh.”

“oh?”

jungkook starts laughing. it's not a small laugh either. it's an actual, deep-throated laughter that makes his chest shake behind you. which somehow only makes you more annoyed.

“why are you laughing?”

“because that's what you're thinking about right now? i totally forgot about her.” he manages between laughs.

“answer the question, jeon jungkook.”

“i don't know.”

you blink.

“...what?”

“i don't know.”

“jungkook.”

“i'm serious.” he lifts both hands in surrender. “she was just some random girl.”

“random?”

“yeah.”

“she posted pictures with you!!”

“i know.”

“and implied she slept with you.”

“i know, baby.”

you just stare at him. and jungkook just shrugs — a casual, dismissive little shrug.

“i never liked her, by the way,” he adds quickly. “she really is a random woman.”

“good.”

the word leaves your mouth embarrassingly fast. and you notice the way his lips twitch.

“good?” he asks.

“yes.”

“were you jealous?”

“no.”

“liar.”

you roll your eyes. “fuck off.”

then, after a beat of silence, you speak again. “what she did was weird though,”

“yeah.” he nods.

“like genuinely.”

“mhm.”

you pull back slightly so you can look at him properly.

“why would she post pictures like that without your consent?”

jungkook shrugs again.

infuriatingly unbothered.

“people are weird.”

“that's not a serious answer, jeon.”

“i'm fine, darling.”

“that's not the point!”

he glances at you, his expression softening when he sees how genuinely bothered you are. because honestly? you are. the whole thing was creepy. invasive. and the fact that he's acting so casual about it somehow annoys you more than the lie itself.

"take it seriously."

his eyebrows lift. "i am."

"no you're not."

"darling."

"someone lied about sleeping with you!"

"yeah."

"that's insane."

"yeah."

"and you’re acting like she borrowed your book without asking."

that finally earns a real laugh. jungkook looks at you for a long second after that, a slow smile spreading across his face. you narrow your eyes at him. "you're planning something."

"i'm always planning something." he grins — turning from mischievous to downright dangerous. the kind of grin that usually means you're about to do something crazy. "darling," he starts. "let's post a picture together."

oh. that's all?

you frown. "what?"

"a picture," he repeats, sitting up straighter and turning toward you. "you know? photo, image, camera?"

"i know what a picture is." you roll your eyes again.

"great." he claps his hands together once. "then let's get to work."

you immediately make a face. jungkook laughs. "i just want to post something..." he says. "something that would piss everyone off."

you narrow your eyes again. "jungkook."

"especially annie."

that makes your ears perk up. then, a realization slowly begins forming in your head.

oh.

his smile grows.

“are you trying to recreate the valentina pic with me?” you ask.

"maybe."

"nuh uh."

"hear me out, darling."

"absolutely not."

"darling, please."

he shifts closer, his eyes are practically sparkling now. completely shameless. looking like he's already convinced himself this is the greatest idea he's ever had. "this one is much better though."

you stare at him. "better?"

"wayyyy better."

"how?" you tilt your head, genuinely curious about whatever nonsense explanation he's about to give.

jungkook doesn't even hesitate. his gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. and then, with that annoyingly attractive smile of his, he says:

“because this time i actually like the person i'm taking it with.”

───────────────────────────────────

note: yayyy, it's finally out!! 🎉 this chapter ended up being around 5.7k words, which was originally all i planned to write... and then i got carried away and ended up writing extra scenes (SMUT—) 🫠

i didn't want to include it in this chapter because i really wanted this one to stay soft, sweet, and focused on this moment between them. but since i'd already written it (and it's somehow 4.4k words long), i decided to post it separately on my patreon!!

it's available as a bonus chapter on my archive tier, and i’m linking it -> HERE ♡ i'll also be posting more extras, bonus content, and other things there in the future!! xoxo

[luvismenu]

𝜗ৎ permanent taglist 2: @emmie2308 @spenceatiny18 @jjkszn @dltyum @bjoriis @kookienooki @kooksbunnyy @lmaothv @just-agirl-lol @lackingdopaminesince2007 @bo-rimmy @bilbosdumptruck @myypgg @ajo-brunette @imnotrosiee @bls-luv-me @knjkitten @goldenjjksworld @mindairy @jazzittae @mninotjungkook @angeldefresaa @taegiverse @sadiayn @babyjkookie @prxdajeon @magicalnachocreator @anaasinterludee @girlontheblock @higurumasconsumer @meigalaxy @nomadclairo @cherricherryy @itzpixiebabe @jungkookswhiskey @babyblue19 @unstableunic0rn @fkingl0ser @crzbss @lattetwirll @luvjimii @kookie96 @azrielsgirll @likecatie @unbibiased @hagridshaircare @heartsy13 @overlytea @hoemeprazole @mikrokookiex

[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 28 — postin’ us _ written chapter // note at the end

“i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

───────────────────────────────────

you have walked the same path across your living room so many times tonight that you’re convinced you have permanently worn a visible trail into the floor.

from the couch to the kitchen.

kitchen to the front door.

front door back to the couch.

over and over and over again, like a tired record stuck on repeat. the route is burned into your muscle memory now. if someone blindfolded you, spun you around three times, and let you go, your feet would probably still carry you through the exact same loop without hesitation. your body knows every slight dip near the coffee table, every familiar turn, every little thing.

your brain, unfortunately, has not learned how to shut the fuck up.

the second you force yourself to stop pacing, your leg starts bouncing restlessly against the floor. the second you press your palm down on your knee to stop the bouncing, your fingers begin fidgeting — twisting the hem of your shirt, picking at your nails, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. and the moment your hands finally go still, your mind immediately latches onto something new to spiral over. it is an endless, exhausting cycle.

this is ridiculous.

genuinely, painfully, ridiculous.

he is just coming over.

he is just your jungkook.

just the same jungkook you have spent months arguing with, laughing with, fake dating, sleeping with, breaking up with, thinking about constantly, missing when he is not around, and… maybe even loving?

the question mark at the end of that thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. you let out a frustrated groan and drag both hands down your face, pressing your palms hard against your eyes until you see stars.

god.

why is he so stubborn?

seriously.

normal people text. normal people send a simple message that says “hey, can we talk?” normal people hear the word “no” and respond with something reasonable like “okay, maybe later.” normal people do not randomly announce that they are coming over and then refuse to explain why (even though you probably know why). normal people definitely do not bulldoze their way through every boundary you carefully try to build just because they have decided, in their stubborn little head, that they have something important to say right now.

but of course jungkook is not normal.

he is jeon fucking jungkook.

the same man who has somehow managed to become the biggest source of stress in your entire life while simultaneously being the person you miss the most. the contradiction feels deeply unfair. there should be actual laws against someone having this kind of effect on another human being.

you glance at your phone for what has to be the hundredth time, the screen lighting up your face in the dim apartment.

nothing. no new texts. no updates. no little dots to indicate he is typing. just the same stupid screen staring back at you, mocking your anxiety with its silence.

and you know he is already on his way. you know he is coming. and somehow that knowledge makes the waiting feel ten times worse than not knowing at all. because now your brain has way too much time to overthink every possible scenario, and thinking has never been your friend when it comes to him. especially when alexia and hoseok have spent the last ten minutes making everything infinitely worse.

“good luck, darlinggg, go get him!”

you can still hear alexia’s dramatic voice ringing in your ears like she is standing right next to you. she had not even waited five seconds after you told her jungkook was coming over. the second the words left your mouth, she gasped so loudly you genuinely thought she might have dropped her phone. then came the high-pitched squealing. then the rapid-fire assumptions. then the absolute, unshakable confidence.

“he is coming to confess.”

you had nearly hung up on her right then and there.

because what kind of thing is that to say? who just throws something like that out so casually? what if he is not coming to confess at all? what if he is angry? what if he wants closure? what if this is just some elaborate prank? what if he is coming here to tell you that you were right all along — that the boundaries were necessary and whatever this thing between you two was never going to work?

instead, apparently, everyone around you has collectively decided that jeon jungkook is arriving with some grand romantic declaration, all because annie finally told the truth about how she lied and never actually slept with him.

and the fact that hoseok agreed with alexia feels borderline insane.

because lately their favorite hobby has been arguing with each other over absolutely everything. you have noticed they have been getting strangely more comfortable around one another again, which is nice, but they still disagree on the smallest things. like, the movies. food. the weather. and they once spent twenty full minutes arguing about whether pigeons were real or not.

yet somehow, on this one single topic, they both landed on the exact same conclusion without hesitation.

“he is coming to confess.”

traitors. both of them. absolute traitors.

because now that dangerous little idea has planted itself deep inside your brain and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to yank it out.

what if they are right?

the thought makes your stomach twist violently. because that is all you have wanted for so long, is it not? for him to stop pretending. for him to look you in the eyes and say it out loud.

yet now that the possibility actually exists, you are not just nervous. you are fucking terrified.

because wanting something so badly is easy.

living with the reality of it — dealing with whatever comes after — feels impossibly harder.

and honestly, you don't even know when it happened.

when did this impossible, infuriating man become the center of your world? you try to pinpoint a moment, a specific day, but there isn't one. it was slow. insidious. it was in the way you both started lingering a little longer after hanging out with friends, the way those simple texts became a nightly ritual. it was the comfort. the comfort of being around him. it was never forced. it was just… easy to exist in the same space, to share comfortable silences, to know without asking that he'd understand a stupid reference or appreciate a specific kind of humor.

you got comfortable. too comfortable. you let your guard down around him in a way you hadn't with anyone else, and you never even realized you were doing it until the walls were already gone.

and then new year's happened.

the memory hits you like a physical blow — a dizzying, chaotic flash of colored lights, champagne, and his hand on the small of your back. and in his eyes, you saw something that mirrored the dizzy, terrifying hope building in your own chest.

and then it just… turned everything in a different direction. the fake dating, which had been a convenient, silly shield, suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse. the sleeping together, which was supposed to be casual, started feeling like something else entirely. it was like a switch had been flipped, and all the unspoken things between you were suddenly screaming for attention.

and you thought: shit. does he like you?

the question was so juvenile, so simple, yet it felt like the most important question in the universe. and the follow-up, the one that made your hands tremble: do you want him to like you?

do you want him?

at first, the thought was hazy.. kind of terrifying. a blur of what-ifs and potential heartbreak. but slowly, the thought started to feel good. really good. it felt warm. it felt right. it felt like sliding into a hot bath after being cold for too long. the idea of being with him officially — of not having to pretend, of getting to have this easy, comfortable warmth all the time — bloomed in your chest until it was the only thing you could think about.

you stop pacing long enough to lean heavily against the kitchen counter, pressing your palms flat against the cool surface as if it could ground you. the apartment is far too quiet.. every tiny sound feels amplified in the silence. the low hum of the refrigerator. the distant traffic outside the window. the steady ticking of the clock near the dining table. all of it blends together with the loud, relentless noise inside your head.

months ago, you would have laughed at yourself if you knew you would end up here — heart racing, palms sweaty, waiting for jungkook like this. actually, no. months ago you probably would have grabbed yourself by the shoulders and screamed “what the fuck are you thinking?” before physically dragging yourself away from him as fast as possible.

back then you knew dating jeon jungkook was a terrible idea. and you had valid points. there was absolutely no universe in which he qualified as boyfriend material. not according to hoseok. not according to alexia. definitely not according to you.

because the jungkook you met at the beginning and the jungkook who exists in your life now barely feel like the same person.

back then everything about him felt temporary. every smile. every late-night conversation. every promise. he was always halfway out the door, always chasing the next distraction — the next party, the next person, the next thrill. he never stayed still long enough for anything real to catch up to him. and that was what scared you the most. not that he was careless. not that he was reckless. but that nothing ever seemed to matter enough for him to stay.

now, though?

now he stays.

that is the difference.

somewhere between all the fake dates, the late-night conversations, the fights, the makeups, and the quiet moments in between, jungkook stopped feeling temporary. he stopped looking like someone who was constantly searching for the next escape. he is still impulsive. still stubborn as hell. still capable of making terrible decisions when his emotions get involved.

just like you.

you snort softly at the thought, shaking your head.

and honestly, if there was an award for two people spectacularly misunderstanding each other, you and jungkook would win by a landslide.

because he said he didn’t have a crush on you and you immediately assumed the worst. and then he assumed the worst right back!! and just like that, the two of you spent the next several days drowning in misery instead of having one single normal conversation.

incredibly mature. truly inspiring.

maybe hoseok and alexia should’ve physically restrained both of you. because what the hell were you thinking? and what was he thinking?

you heavily and rub at your temple. your head is throbbing from all the overthinking. every possible scenario has played out in your mind at least five times, and somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself that every single one ends in total disaster. maybe alexia and hoseok are wrong. maybe they’re right. maybe jungkook is coming here to confess. maybe he’s coming here to tell you you’re both idiots. at this point, you’re not sure which outcome scares you more.

then your doorbell rings.

your stomach drops instantly.

oh fuck. he’s here. you’re fucked.

you curse under your breath and force your legs to move. the short walk from the kitchen to the front door feels endless. your pulse thunders in your ears with every step, and by the time your fingers close around the handle, you’re half-convinced your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest.

one breath. then another.

you pull the door open.

and you freeze.

because jungkook is standing there, holding a bouquet.

you blink, momentarily stunned. for a long second, neither of you say anything. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, lifting the flowers a little as if he’s just now realizing how ridiculous he must look.

“hey, darling.” he says.

jungkook looks… nice. not in his usual effortless, annoyingly attractive way, this feels intentional. like he actually tried. he’s wearing a dark sweater pulled over a collared shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’d rolled them absentmindedly at some point. his hair is still messy though, the familiar black strands sticking up in places, as if he’d spent ten minutes trying to tame it before giving up and running his hands through it in frustration.

it’s very him.

your eyes drop to the bouquet. it’s a beautiful disaster, different flowers crammed together with zero rhyme or reason, tied with a slightly crooked pink ribbon that looks suspiciously homemade. it shouldn’t work. but somehow, it does. just like jungkook himself.

his hopeful little smile starts to falter under your prolonged silence.

“can i come in?” he asks softly. then, after a beat, even quieter, “please?”

your chest tightens painfully.

you kinda hate how much that one word affects you.

but you take a slow, steadying breath, and close your eyes for a second.

get it together, ___.

you’ve spent the entire week spiraling, overthinking, and making a complete fool of yourself. you can survive one conversation.

you have to. so, be strong. don’t read too much into anything. don’t assume. don’t let your brain run wild again!

by the time you open your eyes, you’ve shoved every spiraling thought as far down as they’ll go. without saying a word, you look away and step aside, leaving the doorway open.

jungkook visibly relaxes, just a fraction, but you notice. the tension in his shoulders eases as he steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. then, almost shyly, he holds the bouquet out toward you.

“these are for you.”

you blink. your gaze flicks from the flowers to his face, then back to the flowers again.

“thanks,” you mumble, carefully taking them from his hands.

“i hand-picked them,” he adds, pride creeping into his voice.

you look up. “you what?”

“i hand-picked them,” he repeats, a little more confidently this time. “couldn’t find a florist open this late.”

your eyes narrow. “from where?”

“there’s a garden a few houses down from yours.”

a beat of silence.

“you fucking stole these?”

“no!” jungkook looks genuinely offended, eyes widening. “what the hell?”

“jungkook.”

“i didn’t steal them!”

“these look stolen.”

“they’re not stolen!”

you glance down at the chaotic bouquet again. “they definitely look stolen.”

“i asked permission!” he insists, voice rising in pitch.

“sure.”

“i did!”

“mhm.”

“i literally offered to pay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “did you?”

“yes!”

“and?”

“and they said it was fine.” he huffs. “i’m not a criminal, darling.”

you stare at him. “alright,” you say slowly, lips twitching despite yourself. “if you say so, jungkook.”

it’s crazy how quickly the conversation slips into something familiar. how easy it is. how natural. because somewhere between accusing him of floral theft and watching him defend his honor with that dramatic, passionate expression, the iron band that had been crushing your chest all evening finally loosens.

not completely. but enough.

enough for you to remember what being around him usually feels like.

easy.

even when he’s being ridiculous. even when he’s cocky. even when you want to throw something at his head. being with jungkook has always felt strangely easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day. warm. comfortable. right.

and even now, after all the misunderstandings, your body seems to forget it was supposed to be terrified. for a few precious moments, everything feels… fine. like the last few days never happened. like it’s just you and him again, standing exactly where you’re supposed to be.

. . .

the silence that follows settles over the room almost too suddenly. one second you’re arguing over flowers, and the next, there’s nothing easy left to say.

your fingers tighten around the bouquet as you stare down at it. suddenly you’re aware of everything: the crooked pink ribbon, the uneven stems, the fact that he actually came, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him.

you’d spent days convincing yourself you were fine without him.

what a complete lie.

and when you finally glance up, jungkook is already watching you. this time, neither of you look away. and your heart does something warm in your chest.

he looks nervous. actually nervous.

you’ve seen jungkook cocky, annoying, stubborn, impulsive, and occasionally insufferable, but nervous? that’s rare. yet here it is, written all over his face. like he’s carefully measuring every breath, every shift of his weight, terrified of getting this wrong.

the realization makes your chest ache.

because despite everything, he’s still here. still trying. still looking at you like you’re worth every risk.

jungkook shifts on his feet. he draws in a breath, then another.

“___—”

you don’t let him finish.

before your brain can talk you out of it, before fear can slam the brakes again, you close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

for a split second, he freezes.

then he exhales, all the tension melting from his body as his arms come around you, strong, familiar, and so careful it hurts. the bouquet slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor between you, flowers scattering across the floor, but neither of you move to pick it up.

oh, you missed this.

you missed him so fucking much.

jungkook’s chin rests gently against the top of your head, one hand settling warm and steady between your shoulder blades. for the first time in days, the constant noise in your mind goes quiet.

your eyes sting.

annoying.

you hate crying. you hate looking vulnerable. but you let it happen anyway.

“what are you doing to me, jeon jungkook?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

you feel his breath hitch. his arms tighten around you just a fraction. the room suddenly feels smaller, quieter, filled entirely with him. you bury your face deeper into his shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide the tears.

it doesn’t work.

jungkook knows you too well.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back before he leans away just enough to look at you.

“are you crying?”

“no,” you answer immediately, but your voice cracks like a traitor.

jungkook stares.

“that was a very convincing no.”

“thank you.”

a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before it fades. now that he’s really looking at you, his expression softens into something pained.

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

“this.” his thumb gently brushes beneath your eye, catching a tear. “you crying.”

a fresh lump forms in your throat. if he’d teased you, you could’ve handled it. if he’d laughed, you could’ve rolled your eyes. but this soft, guilty look on his face? it’s devastatingly unfair.

“jungkook,” you mumble.

“i mean it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i really don’t like it.”

for a moment, the silence returns, until your eyes catch on the suspicious shine in his own.

you pull back slightly.

“are you—”

jungkook immediately looks away. “no.”

“you’re literally tearing up.”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“___.”

“you’re crying!”

“i’m not crying,” he insists, but his voice is thick.

a real laugh bubbles out of you, small, watery, and completely unexpected. jungkook groans, cheeks flushed.

“don’t laugh at me, darling.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re not.”

another soft laugh escapes you. because this is ridiculous. days of spiraling, overthinking, and heartbreak… and now you’re standing in your living room with tears in your eyes while jungkook looks one sentence away from joining you.

“wow, jungkook.”

“please don’t say anything.”

“i didn’t know you had this in you.”

the laughter fades, and the silence that follows feels softer. less scary. almost hopeful.

jungkook sighs softly, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

“can i ask you something?”

you nod.

his eyes search yours, careful and patient. “like… what happened in your head that day?”

you look away immediately. the question feels impossible to answer.

where would you even start? the misunderstanding? the jealousy that had burned through you? the way you’d convinced yourself he didn’t want you at all? all of it? none of it?

“i don’t know,” you admit quietly.

“that’s not true, ___.”

you sigh, fingers twisting together nervously. “i just…”

fuck. how do you even explain it without sounding completely pathetic?

“everything feels confusing right now.” your voice comes out smaller than you want. “i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

he shakes his head instantly. “of me?”

“no,” you answer so quickly that he visibly relaxes. “not of you. never of you.”

“then what?”

you exhale slowly, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “this. whatever this is.”

jungkook follows your hand movement, his expression softening again.

“i feel like everything’s happening really fast,” you continue, letting out a nervous laugh. “which is funny because it also feels like it’s been happening for months.”

“months?” he echoes.

“yeah, but… i don’t know.” you shake your head. “my brain feels like a mess.”

“same.”

you blink, surprised. “really?”

“___.” he gives you a pointed look, almost amused. “i showed up with flowers from a stranger’s garden, and i’m wearing this... outfit. i clearly don’t know what i’m doing either.”

that pulls a tiny smile from you. then jungkook takes a small step closer, his voice gentler. “we don’t have to figure everything out tonight, darling.”

“we don’t?”

“god, no.” he almost laughs, running a hand through his hair. “i barely figured out what i wanted to say on the drive here. i mean, i wanted to confess but, i just... ah fuck, i don’t know what to do. ”

“that’s reassuring.” you smile.

“thank you,” he replies dryly, lips twitching.

and for a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the air between you warm and tentative. then jungkook clears his throat.

“okay.”

you blink. “okay?”

“i have a suggestion.”

immediately suspicious, you narrow your eyes. “yeah?”

he grins, that familiar, boyish grin that makes your stomach flip.

“how about we calm down first?”

“i’m calm.”

“you cried.”

“you cried too.”

“fair.” his smile grows, softening at the edges. “how about we cuddle and talk?”

you blink again. “what?”

he shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s what we always do.”

and suddenly the suggestion doesn’t sound strange at all. because it is what you always do.

on good days, bad days, and every confusing day in between, the two of you somehow always ended up like this, tangled together, talking until the world felt a little less overwhelming.

“just us, ___.” he said softly.

. . . ,

and somehow, that’s exactly where you end up. curled up on your couch, tucked against jungkook’s side like you belong there. his arm is draped loosely around your shoulders, warm and steady. a blanket is thrown over both of you because neither of you could be bothered to argue about it. the familiarity of it all almost makes you laugh.

after days of hurt feelings and radio silence, after all the spiraling and misunderstandings, you’ve somehow found your way right back here. to this.

you pressed into his warmth.

his fingers absentmindedly tracing small, lazy patterns on your arm. the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek.

it’s comfortable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to forget why you were ever upset in the first place.

for a long while, neither of you speak. you just breathe each other in, letting the leftover tension slowly dissolve. letting your heartbeat settle. letting yourself admit, quietly and without embarrassment, how much you missed this.

how much you missed him.

how much you like him.

and the realization doesn’t feel scary anymore. it just feels ... true.

jungkook’s fingers keep drawing gentle circles against your skin. you pretend not to notice. he pretends not to notice you noticing.

eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“okay,” he murmurs. “can we talk about that day?”

your stomach twists instantly.

“which day?” you ask, even though you already know.

“darling.”

you sigh. “alright, fine.”

you pull the blanket a little higher, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on the edge. “okay… go ahead.”

jungkook shifts slightly beside you, careful not to jostle you too much.

“so basically…” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words. “you texted me because you liked me.”

your entire face burns.

“jungkook,” you groan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“and you wanted to know if i felt the same way.”

“i guess…” you mumble.

“and then you accidentally made it sound like you hated me.”

you sit up instantly, eyes wide. “i do not hate you!”

“i know that now,” he says, lips twitching.

“i didn’t hate you then either!”

“well, i didn’t know that.”

“how?” you demand.

“because, darling…” jungkook gives you a look that’s equal parts fond and amused. “have you ever seen yourself when you’re serious? and the way you text when you’re upset?”

you blink. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s terrifying.”

you smack his chest. jungkook laughs, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you where you’re pressed against him.

“i was nervous, okay?” you admit, cheeks burning.

“you definitely were.”

“i didn’t know how to ask.”

his expression softens immediately. “i understand.”

you glance down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i really didn’t.”

for a moment, the teasing fades. the truth feels embarrassingly raw, because you know how long you’d stared at your phone, deleting and rewriting those messages a dozen times before finally hitting send.

“i understand, darling,” jungkook says again, quieter this time. the gentleness in his voice makes your heart do a little flip.

you look away first, because apparently eye contact is still too dangerous. then after a beat, you clear your throat.

“okay. my turn.”

jungkook immediately looks nervous, which is honestly a little satisfying.

“why did you say it?”

his brows knit together. “say what?”

“don’t make me repeat it.”

“oh.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “that.”

“yes, that.”

jungkook drops his head back against the couch cushion. “fuck... can we agree to never discuss that sentence again?”

“absolutely not. i want to know.”

he sighs dramatically. for a long moment he stays quiet, visibly thinking. you wait, watching the way his jaw tightens and relaxes.

“well?” you press gently.

jungkook exhales. “i don’t know.”

“jungkook.”

“okay, i know.” he takes another breath. his voice drops, suddenly vulnerable in a way that catches you off guard. “i just… i didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean…” he shrugs awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. “i liked being your friend. i like talking to you. i like hanging out with you.” his voice gets softer. “i like us. i like you.”

your chest squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. because that’s not even supposed to sound romantic, and yet it does. hearing jeon jungkook, the guy who’s always so effortlessly cocky and confident, admit something so simple and sincere makes your head spin.

is this actually happening right now?

the fuckboy. the jeon jungkook — is sitting here under a blanket with you, looking nervous and honest, telling you he likes you.

“i just...” he speaks again, looking awkward. “i genuinely thought you only wanted to be friends.”

you blink.

“and i thought that if i admitted i liked you and you didn't feel the same way...” he trails off for a second, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled across both your laps. “that would've been it. the end of... whatever this is. us. everything, i guess.”

he lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused.

“and i really didn't want that.”

“oh jungkook...”

“yeah.”

“but uh.. why though?”

jungkook looks at you like you've asked the stupidest question in the world. “because you kept talking about boundaries, woman!”

“but that was because i panicked!”

“exactly.”

“jungkook!”

“what?” he laughs helplessly. “from my perspective, darling, it sounded like you were trying to put me in the friend zone as gently as possible.”

you stare. he stares back. and suddenly it clicks.

“so you panicked too.” you say carefully.

“yep.”

you laugh again. a real, genuine laugh this time.

“and then i said i didn't have a crush on you.”

you shake your head, smiling to yourself, before saying; “well, i'm glad we cleared it up.”

something warm flashes across his face. it's not just relief. it's deeper than that. it's the look of someone who has been lost for months and has finally, finally found solid ground again. something that makes your chest ache a little in the best possible way.

“yeah,” he says softly, his breath warm against your scalp. “me too.”

you really are glad.

so incredibly, overwhelmingly glad.

because somehow the pressure is gone. the little misunderstanding that's been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud has finally disappeared. the weird distance that had crept in between you. the carefulness with which you'd both been talking around each other. all of it.

gone.

you're not officially together. neither of you has actually said the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” there hasn't been some huge conversation about labels or exclusivity or whatever comes next.

but somehow that doesn't feel important right now.

what matters is this.

being here. curled up together. the familiar scent of him filling your senses. knowing.

finally knowing.

and no more guessing. no more overthinking. no more pretending. just the truth sitting comfortably between you, solid and real.

. . . ,

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing a calming presence beside you. then a thought suddenly hits you.

your eyes narrow.

“wait.”

jungkook immediately looks suspicious.

“what?”

“who actually was annie?”

he blinks.

“...annie?”

“yes, annie.”

“what about her?”

you stare at him. and he stares back. confusion flickers across his face before realization suddenly hits.

“oh.”

“oh?”

jungkook starts laughing. it's not a small laugh either. it's an actual, deep-throated laughter that makes his chest shake behind you. which somehow only makes you more annoyed.

“why are you laughing?”

“because that's what you're thinking about right now? i totally forgot about her.” he manages between laughs.

“answer the question, jeon jungkook.”

“i don't know.”

you blink.

“...what?”

“i don't know.”

“jungkook.”

“i'm serious.” he lifts both hands in surrender. “she was just some random girl.”

“random?”

“yeah.”

“she posted pictures with you!!”

“i know.”

“and implied she slept with you.”

“i know, baby.”

you just stare at him. and jungkook just shrugs — a casual, dismissive little shrug.

“i never liked her, by the way,” he adds quickly. “she really is a random woman.”

“good.”

the word leaves your mouth embarrassingly fast. and you notice the way his lips twitch.

“good?” he asks.

“yes.”

“were you jealous?”

“no.”

“liar.”

you roll your eyes. “fuck off.”

then, after a beat of silence, you speak again. “what she did was weird though,”

“yeah.” he nods.

“like genuinely.”

“mhm.”

you pull back slightly so you can look at him properly.

“why would she post pictures like that without your consent?”

jungkook shrugs again.

infuriatingly unbothered.

“people are weird.”

“that's not a serious answer, jeon.”

“i'm fine, darling.”

“that's not the point!”

he glances at you, his expression softening when he sees how genuinely bothered you are. because honestly? you are. the whole thing was creepy. invasive. and the fact that he's acting so casual about it somehow annoys you more than the lie itself.

"take it seriously."

his eyebrows lift. "i am."

"no you're not."

"darling."

"someone lied about sleeping with you!"

"yeah."

"that's insane."

"yeah."

"and you’re acting like she borrowed your book without asking."

that finally earns a real laugh. jungkook looks at you for a long second after that, a slow smile spreading across his face. you narrow your eyes at him. "you're planning something."

"i'm always planning something." he grins — turning from mischievous to downright dangerous. the kind of grin that usually means you're about to do something crazy. "darling," he starts. "let's post a picture together."

oh. that's all?

you frown. "what?"

"a picture," he repeats, sitting up straighter and turning toward you. "you know? photo, image, camera?"

"i know what a picture is." you roll your eyes again.

"great." he claps his hands together once. "then let's get to work."

you immediately make a face. jungkook laughs. "i just want to post something..." he says. "something that would piss everyone off."

you narrow your eyes again. "jungkook."

"especially annie."

that makes your ears perk up. then, a realization slowly begins forming in your head.

oh.

his smile grows.

“are you trying to recreate the valentina pic with me?” you ask.

"maybe."

"nuh uh."

"hear me out, darling."

"absolutely not."

"darling, please."

he shifts closer, his eyes are practically sparkling now. completely shameless. looking like he's already convinced himself this is the greatest idea he's ever had. "this one is much better though."

you stare at him. "better?"

"wayyyy better."

"how?" you tilt your head, genuinely curious about whatever nonsense explanation he's about to give.

jungkook doesn't even hesitate. his gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. and then, with that annoyingly attractive smile of his, he says:

“because this time i actually like the person i'm taking it with.”

───────────────────────────────────

note: yayyy, it's finally out!! 🎉 this chapter ended up being around 5.7k words, which was originally all i planned to write... and then i got carried away and ended up writing extra scenes (SMUT—) 🫠

i didn't want to include it in this chapter because i really wanted this one to stay soft, sweet, and focused on this moment between them. but since i'd already written it (and it's somehow 4.4k words long), i decided to post it separately on my patreon!!

it's available as a bonus chapter on my archive tier, and i’m linking it -> HERE ♡ i'll also be posting more extras, bonus content, and other things there in the future!! xoxo

[luvismenu]

𝜗ৎ permanent taglist 1: @thearchersupremacy @nikkinikj @apobangpogirlyyy @giannaissocute @jiijeon97 @crazyovayou @elinaki92 @mimi1097 @missdumpling190811 @jksusawife @mellyyyyyyx @cryingandcuddles @jcnggukie @bammbi-jeon127 @urfavleobiscuit @m4aimm @gregalution @seolhyuningg @alondra6011 @xxjoyridingxx @hoseokteardrop @lovingkoalaface @lovjeongukkie @arasdaydream7 @iridescentshine @jeikeeei @lazystarfishbeliever @ot7girl4l @unseenpotential @jeoncyz @lolakacie @jjeonjjk7 @kittyaryameow @asyr97 @namjoonsleftdimple @songbyeonkim @jeeykey @p1nkmatt3r @ellushic @sheshya @kookdollia @azxher @bbyurastar @albascardigan @whoa-jo @tarrygoblin @diablojjk @yoanalovesyouuu @j0cgr0c @blushmimi

[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 28 — postin’ us _ written chapter // note at the end

“i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

───────────────────────────────────

you have walked the same path across your living room so many times tonight that you’re convinced you have permanently worn a visible trail into the floor.

from the couch to the kitchen.

kitchen to the front door.

front door back to the couch.

over and over and over again, like a tired record stuck on repeat. the route is burned into your muscle memory now. if someone blindfolded you, spun you around three times, and let you go, your feet would probably still carry you through the exact same loop without hesitation. your body knows every slight dip near the coffee table, every familiar turn, every little thing.

your brain, unfortunately, has not learned how to shut the fuck up.

the second you force yourself to stop pacing, your leg starts bouncing restlessly against the floor. the second you press your palm down on your knee to stop the bouncing, your fingers begin fidgeting — twisting the hem of your shirt, picking at your nails, tracing invisible patterns on your thigh. and the moment your hands finally go still, your mind immediately latches onto something new to spiral over. it is an endless, exhausting cycle.

this is ridiculous.

genuinely, painfully, ridiculous.

he is just coming over.

he is just your jungkook.

just the same jungkook you have spent months arguing with, laughing with, fake dating, sleeping with, breaking up with, thinking about constantly, missing when he is not around, and… maybe even loving?

the question mark at the end of that thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. you let out a frustrated groan and drag both hands down your face, pressing your palms hard against your eyes until you see stars.

god.

why is he so stubborn?

seriously.

normal people text. normal people send a simple message that says “hey, can we talk?” normal people hear the word “no” and respond with something reasonable like “okay, maybe later.” normal people do not randomly announce that they are coming over and then refuse to explain why (even though you probably know why). normal people definitely do not bulldoze their way through every boundary you carefully try to build just because they have decided, in their stubborn little head, that they have something important to say right now.

but of course jungkook is not normal.

he is jeon fucking jungkook.

the same man who has somehow managed to become the biggest source of stress in your entire life while simultaneously being the person you miss the most. the contradiction feels deeply unfair. there should be actual laws against someone having this kind of effect on another human being.

you glance at your phone for what has to be the hundredth time, the screen lighting up your face in the dim apartment.

nothing. no new texts. no updates. no little dots to indicate he is typing. just the same stupid screen staring back at you, mocking your anxiety with its silence.

and you know he is already on his way. you know he is coming. and somehow that knowledge makes the waiting feel ten times worse than not knowing at all. because now your brain has way too much time to overthink every possible scenario, and thinking has never been your friend when it comes to him. especially when alexia and hoseok have spent the last ten minutes making everything infinitely worse.

“good luck, darlinggg, go get him!”

you can still hear alexia’s dramatic voice ringing in your ears like she is standing right next to you. she had not even waited five seconds after you told her jungkook was coming over. the second the words left your mouth, she gasped so loudly you genuinely thought she might have dropped her phone. then came the high-pitched squealing. then the rapid-fire assumptions. then the absolute, unshakable confidence.

“he is coming to confess.”

you had nearly hung up on her right then and there.

because what kind of thing is that to say? who just throws something like that out so casually? what if he is not coming to confess at all? what if he is angry? what if he wants closure? what if this is just some elaborate prank? what if he is coming here to tell you that you were right all along — that the boundaries were necessary and whatever this thing between you two was never going to work?

instead, apparently, everyone around you has collectively decided that jeon jungkook is arriving with some grand romantic declaration, all because annie finally told the truth about how she lied and never actually slept with him.

and the fact that hoseok agreed with alexia feels borderline insane.

because lately their favorite hobby has been arguing with each other over absolutely everything. you have noticed they have been getting strangely more comfortable around one another again, which is nice, but they still disagree on the smallest things. like, the movies. food. the weather. and they once spent twenty full minutes arguing about whether pigeons were real or not.

yet somehow, on this one single topic, they both landed on the exact same conclusion without hesitation.

“he is coming to confess.”

traitors. both of them. absolute traitors.

because now that dangerous little idea has planted itself deep inside your brain and refuses to leave, no matter how hard you try to yank it out.

what if they are right?

the thought makes your stomach twist violently. because that is all you have wanted for so long, is it not? for him to stop pretending. for him to look you in the eyes and say it out loud.

yet now that the possibility actually exists, you are not just nervous. you are fucking terrified.

because wanting something so badly is easy.

living with the reality of it — dealing with whatever comes after — feels impossibly harder.

and honestly, you don't even know when it happened.

when did this impossible, infuriating man become the center of your world? you try to pinpoint a moment, a specific day, but there isn't one. it was slow. insidious. it was in the way you both started lingering a little longer after hanging out with friends, the way those simple texts became a nightly ritual. it was the comfort. the comfort of being around him. it was never forced. it was just… easy to exist in the same space, to share comfortable silences, to know without asking that he'd understand a stupid reference or appreciate a specific kind of humor.

you got comfortable. too comfortable. you let your guard down around him in a way you hadn't with anyone else, and you never even realized you were doing it until the walls were already gone.

and then new year's happened.

the memory hits you like a physical blow — a dizzying, chaotic flash of colored lights, champagne, and his hand on the small of your back. and in his eyes, you saw something that mirrored the dizzy, terrifying hope building in your own chest.

and then it just… turned everything in a different direction. the fake dating, which had been a convenient, silly shield, suddenly felt like a flimsy excuse. the sleeping together, which was supposed to be casual, started feeling like something else entirely. it was like a switch had been flipped, and all the unspoken things between you were suddenly screaming for attention.

and you thought: shit. does he like you?

the question was so juvenile, so simple, yet it felt like the most important question in the universe. and the follow-up, the one that made your hands tremble: do you want him to like you?

do you want him?

at first, the thought was hazy.. kind of terrifying. a blur of what-ifs and potential heartbreak. but slowly, the thought started to feel good. really good. it felt warm. it felt right. it felt like sliding into a hot bath after being cold for too long. the idea of being with him officially — of not having to pretend, of getting to have this easy, comfortable warmth all the time — bloomed in your chest until it was the only thing you could think about.

you stop pacing long enough to lean heavily against the kitchen counter, pressing your palms flat against the cool surface as if it could ground you. the apartment is far too quiet.. every tiny sound feels amplified in the silence. the low hum of the refrigerator. the distant traffic outside the window. the steady ticking of the clock near the dining table. all of it blends together with the loud, relentless noise inside your head.

months ago, you would have laughed at yourself if you knew you would end up here — heart racing, palms sweaty, waiting for jungkook like this. actually, no. months ago you probably would have grabbed yourself by the shoulders and screamed “what the fuck are you thinking?” before physically dragging yourself away from him as fast as possible.

back then you knew dating jeon jungkook was a terrible idea. and you had valid points. there was absolutely no universe in which he qualified as boyfriend material. not according to hoseok. not according to alexia. definitely not according to you.

because the jungkook you met at the beginning and the jungkook who exists in your life now barely feel like the same person.

back then everything about him felt temporary. every smile. every late-night conversation. every promise. he was always halfway out the door, always chasing the next distraction — the next party, the next person, the next thrill. he never stayed still long enough for anything real to catch up to him. and that was what scared you the most. not that he was careless. not that he was reckless. but that nothing ever seemed to matter enough for him to stay.

now, though?

now he stays.

that is the difference.

somewhere between all the fake dates, the late-night conversations, the fights, the makeups, and the quiet moments in between, jungkook stopped feeling temporary. he stopped looking like someone who was constantly searching for the next escape. he is still impulsive. still stubborn as hell. still capable of making terrible decisions when his emotions get involved.

just like you.

you snort softly at the thought, shaking your head.

and honestly, if there was an award for two people spectacularly misunderstanding each other, you and jungkook would win by a landslide.

because he said he didn’t have a crush on you and you immediately assumed the worst. and then he assumed the worst right back!! and just like that, the two of you spent the next several days drowning in misery instead of having one single normal conversation.

incredibly mature. truly inspiring.

maybe hoseok and alexia should’ve physically restrained both of you. because what the hell were you thinking? and what was he thinking?

you heavily and rub at your temple. your head is throbbing from all the overthinking. every possible scenario has played out in your mind at least five times, and somehow you’ve managed to convince yourself that every single one ends in total disaster. maybe alexia and hoseok are wrong. maybe they’re right. maybe jungkook is coming here to confess. maybe he’s coming here to tell you you’re both idiots. at this point, you’re not sure which outcome scares you more.

then your doorbell rings.

your stomach drops instantly.

oh fuck. he’s here. you’re fucked.

you curse under your breath and force your legs to move. the short walk from the kitchen to the front door feels endless. your pulse thunders in your ears with every step, and by the time your fingers close around the handle, you’re half-convinced your heart is trying to claw its way out of your chest.

one breath. then another.

you pull the door open.

and you freeze.

because jungkook is standing there, holding a bouquet.

you blink, momentarily stunned. for a long second, neither of you say anything. he shifts awkwardly on his feet, lifting the flowers a little as if he’s just now realizing how ridiculous he must look.

“hey, darling.” he says.

jungkook looks… nice. not in his usual effortless, annoyingly attractive way, this feels intentional. like he actually tried. he’s wearing a dark sweater pulled over a collared shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms like he’d rolled them absentmindedly at some point. his hair is still messy though, the familiar black strands sticking up in places, as if he’d spent ten minutes trying to tame it before giving up and running his hands through it in frustration.

it’s very him.

your eyes drop to the bouquet. it’s a beautiful disaster, different flowers crammed together with zero rhyme or reason, tied with a slightly crooked pink ribbon that looks suspiciously homemade. it shouldn’t work. but somehow, it does. just like jungkook himself.

his hopeful little smile starts to falter under your prolonged silence.

“can i come in?” he asks softly. then, after a beat, even quieter, “please?”

your chest tightens painfully.

you kinda hate how much that one word affects you.

but you take a slow, steadying breath, and close your eyes for a second.

get it together, ___.

you’ve spent the entire week spiraling, overthinking, and making a complete fool of yourself. you can survive one conversation.

you have to. so, be strong. don’t read too much into anything. don’t assume. don’t let your brain run wild again!

by the time you open your eyes, you’ve shoved every spiraling thought as far down as they’ll go. without saying a word, you look away and step aside, leaving the doorway open.

jungkook visibly relaxes, just a fraction, but you notice. the tension in his shoulders eases as he steps inside, pausing just past the threshold. then, almost shyly, he holds the bouquet out toward you.

“these are for you.”

you blink. your gaze flicks from the flowers to his face, then back to the flowers again.

“thanks,” you mumble, carefully taking them from his hands.

“i hand-picked them,” he adds, pride creeping into his voice.

you look up. “you what?”

“i hand-picked them,” he repeats, a little more confidently this time. “couldn’t find a florist open this late.”

your eyes narrow. “from where?”

“there’s a garden a few houses down from yours.”

a beat of silence.

“you fucking stole these?”

“no!” jungkook looks genuinely offended, eyes widening. “what the hell?”

“jungkook.”

“i didn’t steal them!”

“these look stolen.”

“they’re not stolen!”

you glance down at the chaotic bouquet again. “they definitely look stolen.”

“i asked permission!” he insists, voice rising in pitch.

“sure.”

“i did!”

“mhm.”

“i literally offered to pay.”

you raise an eyebrow. “did you?”

“yes!”

“and?”

“and they said it was fine.” he huffs. “i’m not a criminal, darling.”

you stare at him. “alright,” you say slowly, lips twitching despite yourself. “if you say so, jungkook.”

it’s crazy how quickly the conversation slips into something familiar. how easy it is. how natural. because somewhere between accusing him of floral theft and watching him defend his honor with that dramatic, passionate expression, the iron band that had been crushing your chest all evening finally loosens.

not completely. but enough.

enough for you to remember what being around him usually feels like.

easy.

even when he’s being ridiculous. even when he’s cocky. even when you want to throw something at his head. being with jungkook has always felt strangely easy, like slipping into your favorite hoodie after a long day. warm. comfortable. right.

and even now, after all the misunderstandings, your body seems to forget it was supposed to be terrified. for a few precious moments, everything feels… fine. like the last few days never happened. like it’s just you and him again, standing exactly where you’re supposed to be.

. . .

the silence that follows settles over the room almost too suddenly. one second you’re arguing over flowers, and the next, there’s nothing easy left to say.

your fingers tighten around the bouquet as you stare down at it. suddenly you’re aware of everything: the crooked pink ribbon, the uneven stems, the fact that he actually came, and the way he’s looking at you like he’s been missing you just as badly as you’ve been missing him.

you’d spent days convincing yourself you were fine without him.

what a complete lie.

and when you finally glance up, jungkook is already watching you. this time, neither of you look away. and your heart does something warm in your chest.

he looks nervous. actually nervous.

you’ve seen jungkook cocky, annoying, stubborn, impulsive, and occasionally insufferable, but nervous? that’s rare. yet here it is, written all over his face. like he’s carefully measuring every breath, every shift of his weight, terrified of getting this wrong.

the realization makes your chest ache.

because despite everything, he’s still here. still trying. still looking at you like you’re worth every risk.

jungkook shifts on his feet. he draws in a breath, then another.

“___—”

you don’t let him finish.

before your brain can talk you out of it, before fear can slam the brakes again, you close the distance and wrap your arms around him.

for a split second, he freezes.

then he exhales, all the tension melting from his body as his arms come around you, strong, familiar, and so careful it hurts. the bouquet slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor between you, flowers scattering across the floor, but neither of you move to pick it up.

oh, you missed this.

you missed him so fucking much.

jungkook’s chin rests gently against the top of your head, one hand settling warm and steady between your shoulder blades. for the first time in days, the constant noise in your mind goes quiet.

your eyes sting.

annoying.

you hate crying. you hate looking vulnerable. but you let it happen anyway.

“what are you doing to me, jeon jungkook?” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

you feel his breath hitch. his arms tighten around you just a fraction. the room suddenly feels smaller, quieter, filled entirely with him. you bury your face deeper into his shoulder, trying (and failing) to hide the tears.

it doesn’t work.

jungkook knows you too well.

his hand moves slowly up and down your back before he leans away just enough to look at you.

“are you crying?”

“no,” you answer immediately, but your voice cracks like a traitor.

jungkook stares.

“that was a very convincing no.”

“thank you.”

a small, reluctant smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before it fades. now that he’s really looking at you, his expression softens into something pained.

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

“this.” his thumb gently brushes beneath your eye, catching a tear. “you crying.”

a fresh lump forms in your throat. if he’d teased you, you could’ve handled it. if he’d laughed, you could’ve rolled your eyes. but this soft, guilty look on his face? it’s devastatingly unfair.

“jungkook,” you mumble.

“i mean it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “i really don’t like it.”

for a moment, the silence returns, until your eyes catch on the suspicious shine in his own.

you pull back slightly.

“are you—”

jungkook immediately looks away. “no.”

“you’re literally tearing up.”

“i’m not.”

“you are!”

“___.”

“you’re crying!”

“i’m not crying,” he insists, but his voice is thick.

a real laugh bubbles out of you, small, watery, and completely unexpected. jungkook groans, cheeks flushed.

“don’t laugh at me, darling.”

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re not.”

another soft laugh escapes you. because this is ridiculous. days of spiraling, overthinking, and heartbreak… and now you’re standing in your living room with tears in your eyes while jungkook looks one sentence away from joining you.

“wow, jungkook.”

“please don’t say anything.”

“i didn’t know you had this in you.”

the laughter fades, and the silence that follows feels softer. less scary. almost hopeful.

jungkook sighs softly, the sound heavy in the quiet room.

“can i ask you something?”

you nod.

his eyes search yours, careful and patient. “like… what happened in your head that day?”

you look away immediately. the question feels impossible to answer.

where would you even start? the misunderstanding? the jealousy that had burned through you? the way you’d convinced yourself he didn’t want you at all? all of it? none of it?

“i don’t know,” you admit quietly.

“that’s not true, ___.”

you sigh, fingers twisting together nervously. “i just…”

fuck. how do you even explain it without sounding completely pathetic?

“everything feels confusing right now.” your voice comes out smaller than you want. “i’m happy you’re here… but i’m also scared.”

he shakes his head instantly. “of me?”

“no,” you answer so quickly that he visibly relaxes. “not of you. never of you.”

“then what?”

you exhale slowly, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “this. whatever this is.”

jungkook follows your hand movement, his expression softening again.

“i feel like everything’s happening really fast,” you continue, letting out a nervous laugh. “which is funny because it also feels like it’s been happening for months.”

“months?” he echoes.

“yeah, but… i don’t know.” you shake your head. “my brain feels like a mess.”

“same.”

you blink, surprised. “really?”

“___.” he gives you a pointed look, almost amused. “i showed up with flowers from a stranger’s garden, and i’m wearing this... outfit. i clearly don’t know what i’m doing either.”

that pulls a tiny smile from you. then jungkook takes a small step closer, his voice gentler. “we don’t have to figure everything out tonight, darling.”

“we don’t?”

“god, no.” he almost laughs, running a hand through his hair. “i barely figured out what i wanted to say on the drive here. i mean, i wanted to confess but, i just... ah fuck, i don’t know what to do. ”

“that’s reassuring.” you smile.

“thank you,” he replies dryly, lips twitching.

and for a moment, the two of you simply look at each other, the air between you warm and tentative. then jungkook clears his throat.

“okay.”

you blink. “okay?”

“i have a suggestion.”

immediately suspicious, you narrow your eyes. “yeah?”

he grins, that familiar, boyish grin that makes your stomach flip.

“how about we calm down first?”

“i’m calm.”

“you cried.”

“you cried too.”

“fair.” his smile grows, softening at the edges. “how about we cuddle and talk?”

you blink again. “what?”

he shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “it’s what we always do.”

and suddenly the suggestion doesn’t sound strange at all. because it is what you always do.

on good days, bad days, and every confusing day in between, the two of you somehow always ended up like this, tangled together, talking until the world felt a little less overwhelming.

“just us, ___.” he said softly.

. . . ,

and somehow, that’s exactly where you end up. curled up on your couch, tucked against jungkook’s side like you belong there. his arm is draped loosely around your shoulders, warm and steady. a blanket is thrown over both of you because neither of you could be bothered to argue about it. the familiarity of it all almost makes you laugh.

after days of hurt feelings and radio silence, after all the spiraling and misunderstandings, you’ve somehow found your way right back here. to this.

you pressed into his warmth.

his fingers absentmindedly tracing small, lazy patterns on your arm. the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek.

it’s comfortable in a way that makes it dangerously easy to forget why you were ever upset in the first place.

for a long while, neither of you speak. you just breathe each other in, letting the leftover tension slowly dissolve. letting your heartbeat settle. letting yourself admit, quietly and without embarrassment, how much you missed this.

how much you missed him.

how much you like him.

and the realization doesn’t feel scary anymore. it just feels ... true.

jungkook’s fingers keep drawing gentle circles against your skin. you pretend not to notice. he pretends not to notice you noticing.

eventually, he breaks the comfortable silence.

“okay,” he murmurs. “can we talk about that day?”

your stomach twists instantly.

“which day?” you ask, even though you already know.

“darling.”

you sigh. “alright, fine.”

you pull the blanket a little higher, suddenly very interested in a loose thread on the edge. “okay… go ahead.”

jungkook shifts slightly beside you, careful not to jostle you too much.

“so basically…” he pauses, like he’s choosing his words. “you texted me because you liked me.”

your entire face burns.

“jungkook,” you groan, burying your face in his shoulder.

“and you wanted to know if i felt the same way.”

“i guess…” you mumble.

“and then you accidentally made it sound like you hated me.”

you sit up instantly, eyes wide. “i do not hate you!”

“i know that now,” he says, lips twitching.

“i didn’t hate you then either!”

“well, i didn’t know that.”

“how?” you demand.

“because, darling…” jungkook gives you a look that’s equal parts fond and amused. “have you ever seen yourself when you’re serious? and the way you text when you’re upset?”

you blink. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s terrifying.”

you smack his chest. jungkook laughs, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you where you’re pressed against him.

“i was nervous, okay?” you admit, cheeks burning.

“you definitely were.”

“i didn’t know how to ask.”

his expression softens immediately. “i understand.”

you glance down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “i really didn’t.”

for a moment, the teasing fades. the truth feels embarrassingly raw, because you know how long you’d stared at your phone, deleting and rewriting those messages a dozen times before finally hitting send.

“i understand, darling,” jungkook says again, quieter this time. the gentleness in his voice makes your heart do a little flip.

you look away first, because apparently eye contact is still too dangerous. then after a beat, you clear your throat.

“okay. my turn.”

jungkook immediately looks nervous, which is honestly a little satisfying.

“why did you say it?”

his brows knit together. “say what?”

“don’t make me repeat it.”

“oh.” he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “that.”

“yes, that.”

jungkook drops his head back against the couch cushion. “fuck... can we agree to never discuss that sentence again?”

“absolutely not. i want to know.”

he sighs dramatically. for a long moment he stays quiet, visibly thinking. you wait, watching the way his jaw tightens and relaxes.

“well?” you press gently.

jungkook exhales. “i don’t know.”

“jungkook.”

“okay, i know.” he takes another breath. his voice drops, suddenly vulnerable in a way that catches you off guard. “i just… i didn’t want to ruin what we already had.”

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“i mean…” he shrugs awkwardly, avoiding your gaze. “i liked being your friend. i like talking to you. i like hanging out with you.” his voice gets softer. “i like us. i like you.”

your chest squeezes so tightly it almost hurts. because that’s not even supposed to sound romantic, and yet it does. hearing jeon jungkook, the guy who’s always so effortlessly cocky and confident, admit something so simple and sincere makes your head spin.

is this actually happening right now?

the fuckboy. the jeon jungkook — is sitting here under a blanket with you, looking nervous and honest, telling you he likes you.

“i just...” he speaks again, looking awkward. “i genuinely thought you only wanted to be friends.”

you blink.

“and i thought that if i admitted i liked you and you didn't feel the same way...” he trails off for a second, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled across both your laps. “that would've been it. the end of... whatever this is. us. everything, i guess.”

he lets out a small laugh, but it sounds more nervous than amused.

“and i really didn't want that.”

“oh jungkook...”

“yeah.”

“but uh.. why though?”

jungkook looks at you like you've asked the stupidest question in the world. “because you kept talking about boundaries, woman!”

“but that was because i panicked!”

“exactly.”

“jungkook!”

“what?” he laughs helplessly. “from my perspective, darling, it sounded like you were trying to put me in the friend zone as gently as possible.”

you stare. he stares back. and suddenly it clicks.

“so you panicked too.” you say carefully.

“yep.”

you laugh again. a real, genuine laugh this time.

“and then i said i didn't have a crush on you.”

you shake your head, smiling to yourself, before saying; “well, i'm glad we cleared it up.”

something warm flashes across his face. it's not just relief. it's deeper than that. it's the look of someone who has been lost for months and has finally, finally found solid ground again. something that makes your chest ache a little in the best possible way.

“yeah,” he says softly, his breath warm against your scalp. “me too.”

you really are glad.

so incredibly, overwhelmingly glad.

because somehow the pressure is gone. the little misunderstanding that's been hanging over your heads like a storm cloud has finally disappeared. the weird distance that had crept in between you. the carefulness with which you'd both been talking around each other. all of it.

gone.

you're not officially together. neither of you has actually said the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend.” there hasn't been some huge conversation about labels or exclusivity or whatever comes next.

but somehow that doesn't feel important right now.

what matters is this.

being here. curled up together. the familiar scent of him filling your senses. knowing.

finally knowing.

and no more guessing. no more overthinking. no more pretending. just the truth sitting comfortably between you, solid and real.

. . . ,

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of his breathing a calming presence beside you. then a thought suddenly hits you.

your eyes narrow.

“wait.”

jungkook immediately looks suspicious.

“what?”

“who actually was annie?”

he blinks.

“...annie?”

“yes, annie.”

“what about her?”

you stare at him. and he stares back. confusion flickers across his face before realization suddenly hits.

“oh.”

“oh?”

jungkook starts laughing. it's not a small laugh either. it's an actual, deep-throated laughter that makes his chest shake behind you. which somehow only makes you more annoyed.

“why are you laughing?”

“because that's what you're thinking about right now? i totally forgot about her.” he manages between laughs.

“answer the question, jeon jungkook.”

“i don't know.”

you blink.

“...what?”

“i don't know.”

“jungkook.”

“i'm serious.” he lifts both hands in surrender. “she was just some random girl.”

“random?”

“yeah.”

“she posted pictures with you!!”

“i know.”

“and implied she slept with you.”

“i know, baby.”

you just stare at him. and jungkook just shrugs — a casual, dismissive little shrug.

“i never liked her, by the way,” he adds quickly. “she really is a random woman.”

“good.”

the word leaves your mouth embarrassingly fast. and you notice the way his lips twitch.

“good?” he asks.

“yes.”

“were you jealous?”

“no.”

“liar.”

you roll your eyes. “fuck off.”

then, after a beat of silence, you speak again. “what she did was weird though,”

“yeah.” he nods.

“like genuinely.”

“mhm.”

you pull back slightly so you can look at him properly.

“why would she post pictures like that without your consent?”

jungkook shrugs again.

infuriatingly unbothered.

“people are weird.”

“that's not a serious answer, jeon.”

“i'm fine, darling.”

“that's not the point!”

he glances at you, his expression softening when he sees how genuinely bothered you are. because honestly? you are. the whole thing was creepy. invasive. and the fact that he's acting so casual about it somehow annoys you more than the lie itself.

"take it seriously."

his eyebrows lift. "i am."

"no you're not."

"darling."

"someone lied about sleeping with you!"

"yeah."

"that's insane."

"yeah."

"and you’re acting like she borrowed your book without asking."

that finally earns a real laugh. jungkook looks at you for a long second after that, a slow smile spreading across his face. you narrow your eyes at him. "you're planning something."

"i'm always planning something." he grins — turning from mischievous to downright dangerous. the kind of grin that usually means you're about to do something crazy. "darling," he starts. "let's post a picture together."

oh. that's all?

you frown. "what?"

"a picture," he repeats, sitting up straighter and turning toward you. "you know? photo, image, camera?"

"i know what a picture is." you roll your eyes again.

"great." he claps his hands together once. "then let's get to work."

you immediately make a face. jungkook laughs. "i just want to post something..." he says. "something that would piss everyone off."

you narrow your eyes again. "jungkook."

"especially annie."

that makes your ears perk up. then, a realization slowly begins forming in your head.

oh.

his smile grows.

“are you trying to recreate the valentina pic with me?” you ask.

"maybe."

"nuh uh."

"hear me out, darling."

"absolutely not."

"darling, please."

he shifts closer, his eyes are practically sparkling now. completely shameless. looking like he's already convinced himself this is the greatest idea he's ever had. "this one is much better though."

you stare at him. "better?"

"wayyyy better."

"how?" you tilt your head, genuinely curious about whatever nonsense explanation he's about to give.

jungkook doesn't even hesitate. his gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before returning to your eyes. and then, with that annoyingly attractive smile of his, he says:

“because this time i actually like the person i'm taking it with.”

───────────────────────────────────

note: yayyy, it's finally out!! 🎉 this chapter ended up being around 5.7k words, which was originally all i planned to write... and then i got carried away and ended up writing extra scenes (SMUT—) 🫠

i didn't want to include it in this chapter because i really wanted this one to stay soft, sweet, and focused on this moment between them. but since i'd already written it (and it's somehow 4.4k words long), i decided to post it separately on my patreon!!

it's available as a bonus chapter on my archive tier, and i’m linking it -> HERE ♡ i'll also be posting more extras, bonus content, and other things there in the future!! xoxo

[luvismenu]

꒰⁠ ⑅ ꒱ btw, ch:28 will be posted in a few hours. (4-5 hrs?)

& here's a small out of context sneak peek, cuz why not:

“i don’t like this, darling.”

“what do you mean, jungkook?”

[luvismenu]

thots on toxic bf!jungkook?

FUCK YEAH !!!

um no

Remaining time: 2 hours 59 minutes

[luvismenu]

━━━━━━━━━━ husband!jungkook x pregnant wife!oc :: mini smau / one-shot ❤︎ mdni :::: mini smau masterlist

𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍. and 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅.

warnings: fluff !! 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌, just 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’r𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

[cloudynabi]

kicking my feet hehe👣 crazy i had a dream abt jk getting me pregnant literally this morning

[luvismenu]

── ꒰ ♡ ꒱ omg? the universe was sending u spoilers fr

[luvismenu]

━━━━━━━━━━ husband!jungkook x pregnant wife!oc :: mini smau / one-shot ❤︎ mdni :::: mini smau masterlist

𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍. and 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅.

warnings: fluff !! 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌, just 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’r𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

[luvismenu]

𝜗ৎ permanent taglist 2: @emmie2308 @spenceatiny18 @jjkszn @dltyum @bjoriis @kookienooki @kooksbunnyy @lmaothv @just-agirl-lol @lackingdopaminesince2007 @bo-rimmy @bilbosdumptruck @myypgg @ajo-brunette @imnotrosiee @bls-luv-me @knjkitten @goldenjjksworld @mindairy @jazzittae @mninotjungkook @angeldefresaa @taegiverse @sadiayn @babyjkookie @prxdajeon @magicalnachocreator @anaasinterludee @girlontheblock @higurumasconsumer @meigalaxy @nomadclairo @cherricherryy @itzpixiebabe @jungkookswhiskey @babyblue19 @unstableunic0rn @fkingl0ser @crzbss @lattetwirll @luvjimii @kookie96 @azrielsgirll @likecatie @unbibiased @hagridshaircare @heartsy13 @overlytea @hoemeprazole @mikrokookiex

[luvismenu]

━━━━━━━━━━ husband!jungkook x pregnant wife!oc :: mini smau / one-shot ❤︎ mdni :::: mini smau masterlist

𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍. and 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅.

warnings: fluff !! 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌, just 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’r𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

[luvismenu]

𝜗ৎ permanent taglist 1: @thearchersupremacy @nikkinikj @apobangpogirlyyy @giannaissocute @jiijeon97 @crazyovayou @elinaki92 @mimi1097 @missdumpling190811 @jksusawife @mellyyyyyyx @cryingandcuddles @jcnggukie @bammbi-jeon127 @urfavleobiscuit @m4aimm @gregalution @seolhyuningg @alondra6011 @xxjoyridingxx @hoseokteardrop @lovingkoalaface @lovjeongukkie @arasdaydream7 @iridescentshine @jeikeeei @lazystarfishbeliever @ot7girl4l @unseenpotential @jeoncyz @lolakacie @jjeonjjk7 @kittyaryameow @asyr97 @namjoonsleftdimple @songbyeonkim @jeeykey @p1nkmatt3r @ellushic @sheshya @kookdollia @azxher @bbyurastar @albascardigan @whoa-jo @tarrygoblin @diablojjk @yoanalovesyouuu @j0cgr0c @blushmimi

[luvismenu]

━━━━━━━━━━ husband!jungkook x pregnant wife!oc :: mini smau / one-shot ❤︎ mdni :::: mini smau masterlist

𝗃𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍. and 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅.

warnings: fluff !! 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌, just 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗈𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’r𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

[luvismenu]

꒰⁠ ⑅ ꒱ ch:28 comin out tmrw! (friday)

[luvismenu]

um. update postponed to saturday.

[catbellybuttons]

writing the first half of a fic: yaaaay! wooo!!! 🌈💝 fun ideas 😊💖✨️~

writing the second half of a fic: I am in a fight with god himself and he is winning

[luvismenu]

꒰⁠ ⑅ ꒱ ch:28 comin out tmrw! (friday)

[luvismenu]

worst behaviour — jeon jungkook , series index , mdni 𑣲 ch: 27 — don’t you be actin’ like that _ smau/nsfw/tw

note: yeah so . . . i told y'all there's no angst, just silly & crazy behavior. also um.. this was kinda rushed sorry, but i’m tryna speedrun ts !!! three more chaps 🥺 scary

[luvismenu]

hi bbys :) i'm kinda back i think, mostly because i promised myself that i’d finish worst behavior this month and i fully intend on keeping that promise.

asks will still be staying off, though. i'm sorry to all my emoji anons . i love you all dearly, but i need some peace on my blog right now and this is the only way i know how to create that for myself.

i've seen all of your sweet messages, comments, and dms. i'm still slowly making my way through them all, so please don't think i'm ignoring you. i just need a little time.

and yes, i've seen a lot of people saying things like "they're just strangers on the internet" and "don't give them power." and i completely agree. and i wish it was that easy for me. but i'm just... not in the best place mentally. i've struggled with depression for a long time, and i've had some very dark periods in my life (triggering stuff that i can’t talk about) that i'm still trying to heal from. so when people say things that target those exact wounds, esp the threats — even if they're coming from anonymous strangers, it still hurts. a lot.

and of course, it doesn't mean they're right. it doesn't mean i believe them. it just means they hit something painful. and that's why i reacted the way i did. they triggered things i've spent years trying to work through. i'm still working through them. so if i seemed overwhelmed, that's why. i'm trying my best.

and i'm really grateful to everyone who showed me kindness. i love and appreciate you all so much.

and i've seen a lot of people suggesting that this “hater” could be someone i used to know. truthfully, i've had that thought too. because.. well, i will admit that some of the comments felt strangely personal. and i’d be lying if i said they didn't remind me of a ... mutual.

and if by some chance it really is the person i used to be friends with, the person who still seems to know far too much about what's happening on my blog for someone who supposedly “hates” me:

i’m really sorry our friendship ended the way it did, and i'm sorry that whatever image of me exists in your head now is so much uglier than the person i actually was. — i don't think there's anything i can say that's going to give you the closure you're looking for. i just hope that one day you're able to find peace with whatever happened between us. i genuinely wish you well.

and i just wish you'd let me go.

anyway, that was kinda dramatic but i needed to let that out. and, im sick rn and im trying to rest, so it might take me a lil while to start writing again (not long but yeah i just need some time) & i will let y'all know when the next chapter is coming out x

and about my "interactions" and "friendships" and , umm .. okay, first of all, i love all the people who support me. love you, love my moots 🩷 and this isn't directed at my moots at all. it's more aimed at people who might want to interact with me more or become closer friends in the future: i just wanna say that this whole thing has honestly given me a lot of trust issues, lmao. and whether i'm right or wrong about who was behind it, i think i'm done chasing friendships with people whose values are completely different from mine? and i mean, it's okay to be different. not everyone is going to think the same way, and that's completely fine. but i've realized that a lot of the people i tried to connect with didn't treat me with the same kindness, respect or effort that i gave them. and i don't want that anymore.

i'm saying this because this situation has honestly made me look back on a lot of past friendships on tumblr, especially one in particular (they traumatized me). i don't think i trust people as easily as i used to anymore, i don’t think i can interact with people like i used to. so yeah, i'm just putting this out there because i think i want a much quieter experience on here moving forward. (like DAMN i jus wanna write fanfics 💔)

and please don't take this as me hating writers/readers or wanting nothing to do with this community </3 i'll always support writers on this platform. i'll always read fics, leave love on stories, recommend works i enjoy, and cheer people on from the sidelines.

i just don't think i want to be heavily involved in ... um, anything tbh. and i think it's healthier for me to have that boundary. i'm perfectly happy being part of the audience, enjoying people's work, supporting them, and then quietly returning to my little corner.

so yeah, i think that's what's best for me !! xoxo