The streetlights hummed their steady orange glow over the quiet neighborhood, casting long, ordinary shadows that did nothing to soften the knot twisting tighter in your chest with every step. Your sneakers hit the pavement in sharp beats — thud, thud, thud — matching the rhythm of thoughts you couldn’t shut off.

Months.

You’d been letting him have you — fuck you — for months, skin on skin, his mouth hot against your throat. You let his hands map every inch of your skin like he owned it. And still he’d pull back afterward, breath ragged, murmuring the same tired line: ‘I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s keep things casual.’

Casual.

As if swallowing your feelings every time was simple. As if the way he’d text you at 2 a.m. just to come over meant nothing.

Hypocritical motherfucker.

You gripped the spare key he’d given you weeks ago — just in case, he’d said, like that small gesture balanced out the rest.

Jacob’s face flashed in your mind, the way he’d lit up talking about Lily last month, shy and hopeful. And now? Jungkook was dating her. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Why her? Why now? The questions burned, low and vicious. Why could he commit to someone else when he’d been buried inside you, whispering your name like a secret he couldn’t quite let go of? Why Lily, of all people — your mutual friend, the one who knew pieces of your tangled history without knowing the full truth?

You were tired. Bone-deep tired of being the convenient shadow in his life. The one he reached for when it suited him, then pushed away with pretty excuses.

Tonight, that ended.

Cuz you're going to fuck him up.

The apartment building came into view, its familiar glass doors reflecting your flushed face back at you. Then with no hesitation , you let yourself in with the key, the lock turning with a soft click that felt louder than it should. The hallway air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of his laundry detergent from the neighboring units. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you climbed the stairs, thoughts sharpening into blades.

Why her and not me? After everything — after the nights you stayed over, the mornings you made coffee in his kitchen like it was yours — why could he give that to someone else? Was he playing you? Is he fucking with you?

The door swung open under your hand. Darkness greeted you first, broken only by the faint blue glow of the city filtering through half-drawn blinds. You didn’t even bother with lights.

“Jungkook?” Your voice cut through the quiet, edged and raw. “Where are you?”

Silence answered. No footsteps. No low hum of his voice calling back.

The living room was empty, takeout containers still on the coffee table from some earlier meal. Your anger flared hotter— he hadn’t even texted you today. Not even once. While he was out solidifying whatever this was with Lily, you’d been left wondering, scrolling through those texts with Jacob until the words blurred.

You moved deeper inside, shoes silent on the hardwood. “Jungkook, I know you’re here. We need to talk. Now!”

Still nothing. The bedroom door was ajar at the end of the short hall. You pushed it open without knocking, the wood whispering against the frame.

There he was.

Jungkook laid sprawled across the bed in the dim light, one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell in the slow, peaceful rhythm of deep sleep, his lips slightly parted. The sheets were tangled around his waist, hoodie discarded on the chair nearby. He looked... untouched by any of it. Serene. Like the world outside his eyelids didn't matter.

Your breath caught, fury and something sharper — hurt, maybe betrayal — coiling so tight it hurt to inhale. It's late night, and he was sleeping like a man with nothing on his conscience.

No texts, or explanations. He was just sleeping like the piece of shit he is.

You stayed there in the doorway, fists clenched at your sides, the key still warm in your palm from the walk over.

You stood there another moment longer, the sight of him so peacefully unaware fueling the fire until it roared. “Wake up,” you snapped, voice cracking through the stillness like a whip. “Jungkook, motherfucker, wake the fuck up right now!”

He stirred faintly, a low, sleepy groan escaping him, but his eyes stayed closed, lashes fluttering without focus. Deep in sleep, lost in whatever dream didn’t include the mess he’d made.

“Wake up, you hypocritical piece of shit!” The words burst out louder, and raw with everything you’d bottled until now. You crossed the room in two strides and yanked the blanket off him with a vicious tug, the fabric ripping away to expose the rumpled t-shirt and shorts underneath.

Jungkook jolted upright, eyes flying open, disoriented and wide. “Nooo— what?” His voice was thick with sleep, hand rubbing at his face. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? When did you come here? How— What happened?”

The confusion on his face only made it worse. You laughed, bitter and sharp, the sound foreign even to your own ears. “What happened? Are you fucking serious right now?” Your chest heaved as the dam broke, words tumbling out in a torrent. “You’ve been fucking me for months, Jungkook. Months. Sneaking me in here, pulling me close like I was yours, telling me over and over you’re ‘not ready’ for anything real. And now? Now you’re dating Lily? Lily? The same girl my best friend’s been crushing on for weeks? How could you do this to me? Do I mean nothing to you? Am I just some convenient warm body you hit up when you’re bored or horny or whatever the fuck runs through that selfish head of yours?”

You paced the small space between the bed and the dresser, hands gesturing wildly, the key still clutched in one fist like a talisman of betrayal. “I let you in. I gave you every part of me without asking for labels because you made it sound so fucking reasonable. ‘Keep it casual,’ you said. Casual! While I sat there swallowing my feelings every single time you pulled away. And meanwhile, you’re out there committing to her? Just like that? Like it’s nothing? Like I haven’t been the one dealing with your moods, your late nights, your stupid excuses? You’re such a goddamn hypocrite. A lying, two-faced asshole who couldn’t even text me today while you were probably out solidifying whatever bullshit this is with her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

because this man — the cocky frat boy, the popular fuckboy — is also the same man who claims to love you more than anything. or at least, that's what he's been telling you for the past few weeks.

yep, it’s been a few weeks since that night at your place, since the conversation that finally cleared up all the misunderstandings. since the shower together. since the soft words under the blankets. things feel different now. more lighter. but still a little scary. it's not quite official, but definitely not casual anymore.

and valentine’s day is creeping up soon!!

your not-really-official man has been talking about it nonstop. every time you see him he drops some new excited comment about it, like a kid who just discovered the holiday existed. you swear you were the same when you were a teenager, but watching jungkook — tall, tattooed, built like he could throw you over his shoulder without trying (he does) get all giddy about hearts and flowers makes you laugh every single time.

you know jeon jungkook has never dated before. he admitted that himself. said he didn’t do relationships, but when you tease him about it now, he just shrugs with that little smirk and says, “the right woman changes everything.”

it’s cute. super duper cute. he’s adorable.

he’s also very silly. way more comfortable with you these days. he’s started bringing you flowers almost every day. sometimes it’s a proper bouquet, sometimes just one single stem he picked up on his way to you. he's even started writing little... love letters. or at least that's what he insists on calling them, despite the fact that they're really just tiny handwritten notes.

and the funniest part? he sends them through his frat brothers like some kind of ridiculous messenger service.

“precautionary” he calls it. because he wants all of them to know you’re taken. even though you’re not… not yet, at least.

and at the end of every letter he signs it as your “secret admirer.”

oh this silly fuckboy.

well. not fuckboy anymore.

but you’ve gotten used to it. it’s his nickname now — because he’s your fuckboy.

you’re sitting on the worn couch in the middle of the chaotic living room right now, legs tucked under you, watching jungkook across the room as he argues with one of his brothers about something stupid (you're so sure he’s annoying them on purpose).

the place smells like cheap beer and cologne, music thumping low in the background. it should annoy you. it definitely used to. but somehow, knowing he’s yours makes the whole scene feel.. kinda different. kinda okay.

he notices you watching him and his expression shifts instantly. the confident smirk softens into something warmer, his eyes brightening as if you’re the highlight of his entire day. he cuts his conversation off without finishing and heads straight toward you, settling onto the couch right beside you. without a second thought, he lifts your legs and drapes them over his lap, one hand settling comfortably on your thigh.

“hi, darling,” he murmurs, voice quiet and meant only for you.

“hey, secret admirer,” you tease, lightly poking his chest.

he smiles wide. “you got today’s letter already?”

“i did. ‘your smile makes my dick twitch’ is kind of a new one.”

jungkook laughs, the sound warm and bright. he leans in closer, forehead almost touching yours. “it’s true though. you’ve ruined me and my dick. it used to be calmer.”

“you were never calm,” you whisper back, smiling. “horny fuckboy.”

“i was, a little,” he says, kissing the tip of your nose. “until i met you.”

you giggle, the sound soft and fond. then you tilt your head, curious. “how did you convince liam to send me the letter today, though?”

he smirks, looking proud of himself. “i got that aura, darling. nobody questions me.”

you give him a look.

he chuckles. “what?”

“tell me.”

jungkook laughs again, then mimics the whole thing in a dramatic voice. “i told him to do it. he said no. i gave him the glare… and he went ‘o-oh okay fine…’” he even adds a fake scared little stutter for effect.

your brows furrow even as you smile. “how do they even find you scary?”

he shrugs, then suddenly flexes both biceps right in front of you, veins popping a little. “they find these scary.”

damn. hot.

you roll your eyes, trying to hide your smile. “put those away, you weirdo.”

he drops the pose, still grinning. then his expression softens a bit. “oh wait, darling, i just remembered something.”

“yeah?”

“you know valentine’s day is in a few days, right? i’ve been thinking about it a lot. and i want to do something special for you. like, something better than flowers and letters.”

you raise an eyebrow. “better than your secret admirer campaign?”

“wayy better,” he says, eyes sparkling with excitement.

you smile.

then his tone turns serious.

“___, let me take you out. properly. please. there will be no frat house or frat parties involved. it's just going to be me trying to be the best future boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

your heart does that stupid fluttery thing it always does around him now. you play with the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling warm.

then you bite your lip. suddenly feeling a little shy. “okay, you and me.”

he grins in victory, immediately leaning in to kiss you slow and sweet, right there on the couch like he doesn’t care who sees.

there’s something about jungkook that makes the rest of the world disappear so easily now. the music, the scattered beer cans, the random guys playing games in the corner — none of it matters. you’re making out with him in the middle of his frat house, surrounded by his friends, and strangely, they all act like they suddenly forgot how to look in your direction.

because jungkook’s reputation has apparently made them smart enough to mind their own business.

your fingers slide into his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepens. he makes a low sound in the back of his throat and pulls you closer, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting high on your thigh. the kiss turns hotter, a little messier, his tongue brushing yours like he’s been waiting all day for this. you smile against his mouth, completely lost in him.

until —

“ahem.”

hoseok clears his throat loudly right behind the couch.

you flinch hard, pulling back so fast your lips make a soft smack. heat rushes to your face instantly. you look away, embarrassed, fixing your dress even though nothing is really out of place.

hoseok stands there with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. “i was the one who called ___ here to study with me, you know.”

jungkook smirks, not even slightly sorry. his arm stays draped around your waist like he’s claiming territory. “what are you, a little kid? you can study by yourself.”

you slap his chest lightly. “jungkook.”

“ow, what?” he laughs, rubbing the spot like you actually hurt him. “i’m just saying. priorities, hyung.”

a few snickers ripple through the living room from the guys pretending they weren’t watching.

hoseok shakes his head, clearly done with both of you. “we have tests coming up, and i could really use some help right now.”

you nod quickly, still a little flushed. “yeah, okay sorry. let’s go.”

jungkook groans dramatically, tightening his grip on you when you try to stand. he pulls you back down for one more kiss, then another, deliberately dragging it out. “five more minutes,” he mumbles against your lips, being extra clingy just to annoy hoseok. “c’mon, she’s my girl. you can’t take her away.”

“jungkook,” you laugh, pushing at his chest again.

he finally lets you go with a heavy sigh, but not before stealing one last quick kiss. “text me when you’re done. i’ll come carry your books or something.”

hoseok rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful. “yeah, yeah, we’ll let you know. come on, ___, let’s go.”

you manage to escape jungkook’s arms and follow hoseok walking toward his room. the moment you’re a few steps away, you glance at him.

“is lexi coming?”

hoseok lets out a small sigh. “not tonight. she’s going on a date with jackson wang.”

you blink, genuinely surprised. “wow… jackson? really?”

“yep,” he says, pushing open his door. “apparently everybody’s falling in love these days.”

you chuckle, nudging his shoulder. “jealous?”

hoseok scrunches his nose. “i have more important things to do before i indulge myself in romance. cuz i'm a busy guy, you know.”

you grin, unable to resist teasing him a little more. “you must be really busy at frat parties then.”

he looks at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “yeah, sometimes.”

you laugh, shaking your head as you step into his room.

· · ─── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ─── · ·

valentine’s day came around pretty fast.

you’re sitting in the passenger seat of jungkook’s car, city lights flickering softly across your face as the streets blur past. the burgundy dress you chose hugs your body gently, the thin straps resting on your shoulders while the neckline dips just enough to reveal a subtle hint of cleavage. your hair falls loose and flowing around your shoulders, and you’d gone for a softer, prettier makeup look tonight — a touch more blush on your cheeks, a delicate shimmer across your eyelids. you wanted to feel different. special even.

you wanted him to look at you and feel something shift in his chest.

and he did.

you can tell by the way his eyes keep drifting from the road to you, lingering a second longer each time. even now, his gaze flickers over again.

it makes you smile, because the truth is, you had felt the exact same way when you opened your door earlier tonight.

jungkook had shown up in a black tuxedo.

and the moment you saw him standing there, you had burst into surprised laughter.

not because he looked bad.

god, it was quite the opposite.

but because the two of you had always been casual wear people. hoodies, jeans, lazy days in oversized shirts. so, seeing your jungkook dressed up like a gentleman had completely thrown you off balance in the best way.

he had blushed hard, ears turning bright red, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. but you quickly stepped forward, cupped his face with both hands and told him he looked ridiculously handsome.

and that reassurance turned into a heated little makeout session right there on your doorstep, his hands were gripping your waist, your fingers were messing up his perfectly styled hair.

and! now you’re here.

you glance over at him while he drives. you notice that his fingers are tapping rapidly against the steering wheel, almost frantic, like he’s seconds away from a full panic attack. his jaw is tight, shoulders tense.

you reach over and gently place your hand on his shoulder.

“jungkook… what’s wrong?”

he glances at you, and just the sound of your voice seems to relax him a little. you notice the way his shoulders drop slightly.

“i’m nervous,” he admits quietly.

you pull your hand back a bit and tilt your head, watching him. “what happened?”

he lets out a heavy sigh mixed with a groan, eyes still on the road. “what if you don’t like it?”

you blink, confused. “the date?”

“fuck,” he mutters, nodding. a red light appears ahead and he slows the car to a stop. “yeah. what if it’s embarrassing? i’ve never done this before. i was so fucking excited, but… i barely know about the real romantic shit people do on dates. i tried searching up everything but i still feel stupid. what if it’s too corny? i know i can be cheesy sometimes but i really want today to be good for you, you know? we’re not even officially dating yet, i know but i— fuck, i just… i want to be the best version for you so i thought... this date... shit. am i making sense?”

you don’t let him spiral any further.

you quickly unclick your seatbelt, lean across the console, and cut him off by pressing your lips to his. your palm rests gently on his cheek, thumb brushing his skin.

thank fuck it’s a red light.

jungkook melts into the kiss almost immediately. all that nervous tension seems to pour out of him as he kisses you back, one hand leaving the wheel to cup the side of your neck. it’s soft and deep and a little desperate, like he needed this more than he realized.

when you finally pull back and settle into your seat again, he lets out a long, shaky sigh, forehead briefly resting against the steering wheel.

you smile softly, heart feeling way too full as you look at him.

“jungkook…”

he sits up a little straighter and turns to look at you, the passing streetlights catching the nervous flicker in his eyes. the red light still holds the car in place, giving you this small pocket of time where the rest of the world feels paused.

you reach over again, this time letting your fingers brush gently along his jaw, thumb tracing the sharp line there.

“breathe,” you whisper, voice warm and steady. “it’s just me. you don’t have to be perfect tonight. you already are.”

jungkook lets out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch like it’s the only thing grounding him. his eyes soften as they meet yours, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your gaze.

“i just… i really don’t want to mess this up,” he admits quietly. “this is important to me. you’re important to me.”

your chest tightens with affection. you lean in again, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips — softer this time, full of reassurance instead of heat. he kisses you back like he’s pouring every unspoken feeling into it, one hand coming up to cradle the side of your face.

when you pull away, you rest your forehead against his for a moment, noses brushing.

“you’re already doing everything right,” you murmur against his lips. “just be you. that’s all i want tonight.”

the light turns green, but jungkook doesn’t move right away. he stays there, eyes closed, breathing you in like he needs one more second of this before continuing the drive.

finally, he pulls back with a small, shy smile — the kind that makes your stomach flutter every single time.

“okay,” he whispers, voice a little rough. “for you… i can do that.”

he shifts back into his seat, one hand reaching over to intertwine with yours, resting it on your thigh as he starts driving again. the nervous tapping on the steering wheel has stopped. instead, his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, steady and warm.

you watch him for a while longer, the city lights dancing across his sharp features and the crisp lines of his tuxedo, and you realize something quietly beautiful — he may be nervous, but he’s trying so hard. for you.

and that alone makes this the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had.

· · ─── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ─── · ·

the rest of the night turns out to be exactly what you both needed: perfectly imperfect.

jungkook had planned the whole thing with way too much effort. first stop was this tiny italian place he swore had the best pasta in the city. the moment you walked in, he pulled your chair out like a gentleman, then immediately knocked over the candle on the table as he was trying to look smooth. the wax spilled everywhere. he panicked, and tried to clean it with his tuxedo sleeve, and ended up with a big white stain on his jacket. you laughed so hard the waiter came over thinking something was wrong.

“this is why i don’t wear fancy shit,” he groaned, but he was still smiling, cheeks pink.

you wiped a tiny bit of wax from his sleeve with your napkin, and told him it made him look even cuter.

he blushed.

crazy. honestly.

by the end of dinner you were both full, laughing, and slightly messy.

after that he drove you to this quiet rooftop spot he had apparently scouted weeks ago. fairy lights strung up everywhere, a little blanket spread out with snacks and a cheap bottle of wine. it was cheesy as hell and you loved it.

you sat there for almost two hours, wrapped in his jacket because the night got chilly, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates that you got him, and making up ridiculous stories about the people walking below on the street.

the city hummed below you, but up there it felt like only the two of you existed.

it was perfect.

then later, when the wind got too cold, he drove you around the city with the windows down, playing your favorite playlist and singing off-key just to make you laugh.

he even stopped at a convenience store at midnight because you mentioned wanting ice cream. so, he came back with three different flavors, and a bag of chips.

by the time he pulled up in front of your apartment, it was late. your feet hurt from your heels, your lipstick was long gone, and his bowtie had completely disappeared somewhere during the night. you both looked a little wrecked, but happy. so happy.

he walked you to your door like a proper gentleman, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels.

“so… did you have fun?” he asked, suddenly shy again.

you smiled up at him. “best valentine’s day ever.”

his whole face lit up.

and before he could say anything else, you grabbed his hand and pulled him inside with you. the second the door clicked shut behind him, the energy in the room shifted.

jungkook’s hands found your waist instantly, backing you gently against the wall as his mouth met yours. the kiss was slow, like all the nerves and excitement from the night had finally boiled over into something hotter. you sighed into it, fingers threading through his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your lips.

he kicked the door fully shut with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked you backwards down the short hallway toward your bedroom. your hands moved over his shoulders, pushing the tuxedo jacket off. it fell somewhere behind him with a soft thud. his fingers found the zipper of your dress and slowly dragged it down, the sound loud in the quiet place. his lips never left yours, hungry and desperate after the whole night of holding back.

when you reached the bedroom, he pushed the door open with one hand, still kissing you, and shut it behind you both with a quiet click. the moment it closed, something shifted. he walked you straight to the bed and spun you around so your back hit the mattress. you landed with a soft bounce, dress already slipping off your shoulders.

jungkook stood at the edge of the bed for a second, eyes dark as they dragged over you. his bowtie was long gone, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair messy from your hands. he looked wrecked in the best way possible.

“fuck, look at you,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “i’ve been thinking about this all night. watching you in that dress… knowing i’d get to take it off you.”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, smirking even though your heart was racing. “then stop staring and do something about it.”

he chuckled, and crawled onto the bed over you. his hands slid the dress down your body, peeling it off slowly like he wanted to savor every inch of skin he revealed. when it hit the floor, he sat back on his heels and just looked at you in your underwear, eyes hungry.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, almost reverent. “i still can’t believe you’re mine.”

you reached up and tugged him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him hard.

he groaned into your mouth and kissed you deeper, tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed everywhere — your waist, your breasts, your hips, your thighs. he broke the kiss only to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking a mark right below your ear that made you gasp.

“i’m gonna take my time with you tonight,” he murmured against your skin. “we’ve got all night, baby. just you and me.”

his hands slipped behind your back and unclasped your bra with surprising ease. he pulled it off and immediately dipped his head, mouth closing around one nipple while his hand cupped the other. you arched into him with a soft moan, fingers threading through his hair.

“jungkook—”

“i know, darling,” he whispered, switching to the other side, tongue flicking and sucking until you were squirming underneath him. “let me hear you.”

then he kissed lower, down your stomach, until he reached the waistband of your panties. he hooked his fingers in them and looked up at you, eyes dark and asking.

“can i?”

you nodded, already breathless.

he dragged them down your legs and tossed them somewhere behind him. then he settled between your thighs, spreading them wider with his hands.

“so pretty.”

you moan at his words.

the first slow lick up your center made your whole body jerk. you hear him groan like he was the one being touched.

“fuck, i love how you taste on my tongue,” he muttered, voice muffled against you. “i could stay here all night.”

and he did.

for what felt like forever, he licked and sucked and teased, tongue circling your clit in slow, strokes before dipping lower to fuck into you. your hands fisted in his hair, hips rolling against his mouth as you moaned his name over and over.

“jungkook— oh my god— right there—”

then he slipped two fingers inside you while his tongue kept working your clit, curling them just right until your thighs started shaking around his head.

when you came, it was with a broken cry, back arching off the bed as he worked you through it, licking you softly until you were twitching and oversensitive.

he crawled back up your body, kissing you so you could taste yourself on his tongue. you reached down and palmed him through his pants, feeling how hard he was.

“your turn,” you whispered against his lips.

you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips for a second, just grinding down on him slowly while you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. he watched you with hooded eyes, hands gripping your hips.

“what did i say? you’ve ruined me.” he groaned when you leaned down and kissed his chest, then lower, following the line of his abs.

you undid his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers. his cock sprang free, hard and leaking at the tip. you wrapped your hand around him and gave a slow stroke, watching his face.

“been wanting this in my mouth all night,” you said, voice low and teasing.

his head fell back against the pillows. “fuck, baby—”

you took him into your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around the head before sinking lower. jungkook’s hand immediately found your hair, holding you gently but it was still firm. the sounds he made — low groans and breathless curses — went straight between your legs.

you love it. so fucking much.

you bobbed your head, taking him deeper each time, hand working what your mouth couldn’t reach. and he was so vocal, praising you the whole time.

“just like that— fuck, your mouth feels so good— you’re so perfect—”

when you pulled off to breathe, you looked up at him through your lashes and smiled. “you like that?”

“i love it,” he rasped.

you smile.

“come here.” he pulled you up and flipped you both so you were on your back again. he kicked off the rest of his clothes and settled between your legs, cock rubbing against your slick folds.

“you’ve started taking the pill, right?” he asked again, always checking, even now.

“yes,” you breathed.

“so we’re good?”

you nod.

“okay, fuck.” he breathes out as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried deep. both of you moaned at the same time. he stayed still for a second, forehead pressed to yours, just breathing.

“you feel so fucking good,” he whispered. “so tight around me. i can never ever get used to this, darling. it’s like the first time all over again.”

he started moving — deep, steady thrusts that made the headboard tap lightly against the wall. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. the room filled with the sound of skin on skin, your moans, and his low grunts.

“harder,” you gasped.

he gave it to you, hips snapping faster, one hand sliding between you to rub your clit.

and embarrassingly, you came again with a cry, clenching around him. he fucked you through it, pace stuttering.

“inside? are you sure?” he asked, voice strained.

“yes oh my god, inside,” you moaned. “please—”

he buried himself deep and came with a groan of your name, hips jerking as he filled you. he stayed there for a long moment, kissing you softly, both of you catching your breath.

but you knew, he wasn’t done.

after a few minutes of lazy kissing and soft touches, he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. he lifted your hips and slid back inside from behind, this angle hitting even deeper. you moaned into the pillow as he started moving again, slower this time but no less intense.

“you take me so well,” he murmured, leaning over you to kiss the back of your neck. “my perfect girl.”

his hand reached around to play with your clit again while he fucked you. you came a third time like that, legs shaking, his name spilling from your lips.

he pulled out and turned you onto your side, spooning behind you. he slid back in and fucked you slow and deep, one hand on your breast, the other between your legs. the angle was intimate, his mouth right by your ear as he whispered how much he loved you, how good you felt, how he never wanted to let you go.

you reached back and tangled your fingers in his hair, turning your head to kiss him messily over your shoulder.

when he came again, it was with your name on his lips and his face buried in your neck.

you both stayed like that for a long time afterward, breathing hard, bodies tangled. he eventually pulled out gently and turned you to face him, pulling you into his chest.

“you okay?” he whispered, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.

you nodded, smiling sleepily against his skin. “more than okay. that was… a lot.”

he chuckled, the sound warm and fond. “good kind of a lot?”

“the best kind of a lot.”

he pulled a blanket over both of you and held you close, one hand stroking your back in lazy circles.

“i love you,” he said quietly, like it still surprised him every time he said it out loud.

you smiled into his chest, suddenly shy. “i love you too, fuckboy.”

he laughed again and kissed the top of your head. “i love hearing you say that, darling.”

you stayed like that for a while, just breathing each other in, hearts still racing from everything that had just happened. the night wasn’t over yet — you could already feel him starting to get hard again against your thigh — but for now, this quiet, warm moment felt just as important.

jungkook shifted slightly, tilting your chin up so he could look at you properly. his eyes were soft, a little dazed, but full of so much love it made your chest ache.

“round... i don't know, three or four? in a bit?” he asked, voice low and teasing, but there was real hope in it too.

you grinned. “give me five minutes and then you can have me however you want.”

his smile turned wicked. “however i want, huh?”

“mhm.”

· · ─── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ─── · ·

you both collapsed, breathing hard.

he stayed inside you for a while, just kissing you softly, both of you catching your breath.

then after a few minutes he pulled out and rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him so you were draped across his chest. his hand stroked down your back, lazy and affectionate.

“best valentine’s day indeed,” he mumbled sleepily.

you smiled, already drifting off. “definitely.”

and just like that, the night faded into quiet, warm cuddles and soft breathing, both of you tangled up together under the blankets, hearts full and bodies spent.

after a while his fingers started tracing lazy patterns on your back and waist. “you really liked tonight?” he asked softly, voice husky from everything you had done.

“i loved it,” you whispered, pressing closer to his chest. “the spilled candle, the ice cream in the car, the way you forgot to give me the bouquet you bought…” you chuckle, before continuing. “i loved all of it. especially the part where you kept calling me baby while you fucked me.”

he let out a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “i was trying to be romantic. clearly failed at the bouquet part.”

“you didn’t fail at anything,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “you tried so hard for me. and that’s what made me fall in love with you.

he stared at you, like he can't believe you're saying it.

“i don’t need perfect, jungkook. i just need you, all of you. with your fuckboy charms and silly little love letters.” you tease him.

he stared at you for a long moment, eyes softening. “you have no idea what you do to me when you say stuff like that.” his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your skin. “i’ve never done any of this before. the dates, the flowers, the trying to be someone’s boyfriend. and i thought i wouldn't be able to, you know? but with you.... fuck, it just feels so right.”

you kissed his palm. “you’re doing great, baby. better than great.”

he smiled again at the new nickname, that shy little flush creeping up his neck. “if you keep calling me that, i'd do anything for you. no limits.”

“yeah? you promise?” you teased, nuzzling back into his chest.

“promise.” he pulled the blanket higher around you both, arms wrapping tighter. “we’re not official yet, but… i want us to be. when you’re ready. no rush, of course. i’ll keep bringing you flowers and writing terrible letters until then.”

you traced a finger over one of his tattoos on his arm. “we are figuring it out. and tonight felt like a really good step. i don’t want anyone else, jungkook. just you. just us being stupid and happy together.”

he pressed a long kiss to the top of your head. “me too. no more running. no more overthinking. just us, yeah?”

you hum.

“happy valentine’s day, darling,” he whispered as he pressed kisses to your head.

you chuckle. “happy valentine’s day, baby.”

the room grew quiet again, only the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. his hand kept stroking your back, slow, soothing and loving.

and then, you make a ... decision. like you always do, recklessly. because why not? you love jeon jungkook.

you lift your head from his chest and smile at him, heart beating a little faster as the words finally come out.

“jungkook,” you whisper, fingers tracing his jaw this time.

“mhm?”

“will you be my boyfriend?”

he stares at you for a second, eyes wide with shock, like the question caught him completely off guard in the quiet afterglow. his mouth parts, breath catching.

then a huge grin breaks across his face.

“i— are you— oh, darling— holy fuck... yes!”

───────────────────────────────────

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗘𝗡𝗗

a/n: thank you for reading worst behavior. thank you for staying with me through all these months. it was chaotic, fun, and honestly a little insane at times, but i'm really glad i got to share this story with all of you. i hope you had as much fun reading it as i had writing it.

and before we move on, there are a few things i want to say.

yes, i know the last few parts were rushed. very rushed. i know i could've done so much more with the story. my main focus from the very beginning was always their friendship, them getting to know each other, becoming comfortable around each other, and eventually becoming best friends. that's the part of the story i loved writing the most, and because of that, a huge portion of the fic ended up focusing on it.

at one point i considered expanding their actual relationship a lot more, but i eventually realized that doing so would require many more chapters, and if i kept extending the story, i wouldn't have time to work on other projects i want to write. so as much as i didn't want to let go, i had to accept that some stories eventually need to end. even if they're messy.

am i fully satisfied with everything? not really. there are definitely scenes and plot points that i wish i had written differently. but i also don't want to be too harsh on myself. worst behavior taught me a lot over the past six months. i learned so much while writing it, and i think i grew a lot as a writer because of it.

when i first started, i was mostly writing simple stories. then i leaned even harder into the chaos and unseriousness. now, i feel like i want to challenge myself more and explore a more descriptive and stylized writing style in future fics. whether i succeed or not, i want to try, and i want to see where that takes me.

and to the people who were upset that the plot was unserious and corny... respectfully, did you read the warnings? i told you from the beginning that this was a silly fic. even mentioned that there was gonna be no serious drama and also talked about my characters being.. "corny", that it was on purpose. so what exactly were you expecting from this fic? constant angst and drama? i’m sorry but please. read the notes/warnings.

oh, and: the hoseok and jungkook lore is something i might come back to in the future. if i do, it'll probably be posted as extra chapters or bonus content. but for now, worst behavior has officially reached its end.

thank you for reading.

thank you for supporting me.

The streetlights hummed their steady orange glow over the quiet neighborhood, casting long, ordinary shadows that did nothing to soften the knot twisting tighter in your chest with every step. Your sneakers hit the pavement in sharp beats — thud, thud, thud — matching the rhythm of thoughts you couldn’t shut off.

Months.

You’d been letting him have you — fuck you — for months, skin on skin, his mouth hot against your throat. You let his hands map every inch of your skin like he owned it. And still he’d pull back afterward, breath ragged, murmuring the same tired line: ‘I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s keep things casual.’

Casual.

As if swallowing your feelings every time was simple. As if the way he’d text you at 2 a.m. just to come over meant nothing.

Hypocritical motherfucker.

You gripped the spare key he’d given you weeks ago — just in case, he’d said, like that small gesture balanced out the rest.

Jacob’s face flashed in your mind, the way he’d lit up talking about Lily last month, shy and hopeful. And now? Jungkook was dating her. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Why her? Why now? The questions burned, low and vicious. Why could he commit to someone else when he’d been buried inside you, whispering your name like a secret he couldn’t quite let go of? Why Lily, of all people — your mutual friend, the one who knew pieces of your tangled history without knowing the full truth?

You were tired. Bone-deep tired of being the convenient shadow in his life. The one he reached for when it suited him, then pushed away with pretty excuses.

Tonight, that ended.

Cuz you're going to fuck him up.

The apartment building came into view, its familiar glass doors reflecting your flushed face back at you. Then with no hesitation , you let yourself in with the key, the lock turning with a soft click that felt louder than it should. The hallway air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of his laundry detergent from the neighboring units. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you climbed the stairs, thoughts sharpening into blades.

Why her and not me? After everything — after the nights you stayed over, the mornings you made coffee in his kitchen like it was yours — why could he give that to someone else? Was he playing you? Is he fucking with you?

The door swung open under your hand. Darkness greeted you first, broken only by the faint blue glow of the city filtering through half-drawn blinds. You didn’t even bother with lights.

“Jungkook?” Your voice cut through the quiet, edged and raw. “Where are you?”

Silence answered. No footsteps. No low hum of his voice calling back.

The living room was empty, takeout containers still on the coffee table from some earlier meal. Your anger flared hotter— he hadn’t even texted you today. Not even once. While he was out solidifying whatever this was with Lily, you’d been left wondering, scrolling through those texts with Jacob until the words blurred.

You moved deeper inside, shoes silent on the hardwood. “Jungkook, I know you’re here. We need to talk. Now!”

Still nothing. The bedroom door was ajar at the end of the short hall. You pushed it open without knocking, the wood whispering against the frame.

There he was.

Jungkook laid sprawled across the bed in the dim light, one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell in the slow, peaceful rhythm of deep sleep, his lips slightly parted. The sheets were tangled around his waist, hoodie discarded on the chair nearby. He looked... untouched by any of it. Serene. Like the world outside his eyelids didn't matter.

Your breath caught, fury and something sharper — hurt, maybe betrayal — coiling so tight it hurt to inhale. It's late night, and he was sleeping like a man with nothing on his conscience.

No texts, or explanations. He was just sleeping like the piece of shit he is.

You stayed there in the doorway, fists clenched at your sides, the key still warm in your palm from the walk over.

You stood there another moment longer, the sight of him so peacefully unaware fueling the fire until it roared. “Wake up,” you snapped, voice cracking through the stillness like a whip. “Jungkook, motherfucker, wake the fuck up right now!”

He stirred faintly, a low, sleepy groan escaping him, but his eyes stayed closed, lashes fluttering without focus. Deep in sleep, lost in whatever dream didn’t include the mess he’d made.

“Wake up, you hypocritical piece of shit!” The words burst out louder, and raw with everything you’d bottled until now. You crossed the room in two strides and yanked the blanket off him with a vicious tug, the fabric ripping away to expose the rumpled t-shirt and shorts underneath.

Jungkook jolted upright, eyes flying open, disoriented and wide. “Nooo— what?” His voice was thick with sleep, hand rubbing at his face. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? When did you come here? How— What happened?”

The confusion on his face only made it worse. You laughed, bitter and sharp, the sound foreign even to your own ears. “What happened? Are you fucking serious right now?” Your chest heaved as the dam broke, words tumbling out in a torrent. “You’ve been fucking me for months, Jungkook. Months. Sneaking me in here, pulling me close like I was yours, telling me over and over you’re ‘not ready’ for anything real. And now? Now you’re dating Lily? Lily? The same girl my best friend’s been crushing on for weeks? How could you do this to me? Do I mean nothing to you? Am I just some convenient warm body you hit up when you’re bored or horny or whatever the fuck runs through that selfish head of yours?”

You paced the small space between the bed and the dresser, hands gesturing wildly, the key still clutched in one fist like a talisman of betrayal. “I let you in. I gave you every part of me without asking for labels because you made it sound so fucking reasonable. ‘Keep it casual,’ you said. Casual! While I sat there swallowing my feelings every single time you pulled away. And meanwhile, you’re out there committing to her? Just like that? Like it’s nothing? Like I haven’t been the one dealing with your moods, your late nights, your stupid excuses? You’re such a goddamn hypocrite. A lying, two-faced asshole who couldn’t even text me today while you were probably out solidifying whatever bullshit this is with her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The streetlights hummed their steady orange glow over the quiet neighborhood, casting long, ordinary shadows that did nothing to soften the knot twisting tighter in your chest with every step. Your sneakers hit the pavement in sharp beats — thud, thud, thud — matching the rhythm of thoughts you couldn’t shut off.

Months.

You’d been letting him have you — fuck you — for months, skin on skin, his mouth hot against your throat. You let his hands map every inch of your skin like he owned it. And still he’d pull back afterward, breath ragged, murmuring the same tired line: ‘I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s keep things casual.’

Casual.

As if swallowing your feelings every time was simple. As if the way he’d text you at 2 a.m. just to come over meant nothing.

Hypocritical motherfucker.

You gripped the spare key he’d given you weeks ago — just in case, he’d said, like that small gesture balanced out the rest.

Jacob’s face flashed in your mind, the way he’d lit up talking about Lily last month, shy and hopeful. And now? Jungkook was dating her. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Why her? Why now? The questions burned, low and vicious. Why could he commit to someone else when he’d been buried inside you, whispering your name like a secret he couldn’t quite let go of? Why Lily, of all people — your mutual friend, the one who knew pieces of your tangled history without knowing the full truth?

You were tired. Bone-deep tired of being the convenient shadow in his life. The one he reached for when it suited him, then pushed away with pretty excuses.

Tonight, that ended.

Cuz you're going to fuck him up.

The apartment building came into view, its familiar glass doors reflecting your flushed face back at you. Then with no hesitation , you let yourself in with the key, the lock turning with a soft click that felt louder than it should. The hallway air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of his laundry detergent from the neighboring units. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you climbed the stairs, thoughts sharpening into blades.

Why her and not me? After everything — after the nights you stayed over, the mornings you made coffee in his kitchen like it was yours — why could he give that to someone else? Was he playing you? Is he fucking with you?

The door swung open under your hand. Darkness greeted you first, broken only by the faint blue glow of the city filtering through half-drawn blinds. You didn’t even bother with lights.

“Jungkook?” Your voice cut through the quiet, edged and raw. “Where are you?”

Silence answered. No footsteps. No low hum of his voice calling back.

The living room was empty, takeout containers still on the coffee table from some earlier meal. Your anger flared hotter— he hadn’t even texted you today. Not even once. While he was out solidifying whatever this was with Lily, you’d been left wondering, scrolling through those texts with Jacob until the words blurred.

You moved deeper inside, shoes silent on the hardwood. “Jungkook, I know you’re here. We need to talk. Now!”

Still nothing. The bedroom door was ajar at the end of the short hall. You pushed it open without knocking, the wood whispering against the frame.

There he was.

Jungkook laid sprawled across the bed in the dim light, one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell in the slow, peaceful rhythm of deep sleep, his lips slightly parted. The sheets were tangled around his waist, hoodie discarded on the chair nearby. He looked... untouched by any of it. Serene. Like the world outside his eyelids didn't matter.

Your breath caught, fury and something sharper — hurt, maybe betrayal — coiling so tight it hurt to inhale. It's late night, and he was sleeping like a man with nothing on his conscience.

No texts, or explanations. He was just sleeping like the piece of shit he is.

You stayed there in the doorway, fists clenched at your sides, the key still warm in your palm from the walk over.

You stood there another moment longer, the sight of him so peacefully unaware fueling the fire until it roared. “Wake up,” you snapped, voice cracking through the stillness like a whip. “Jungkook, motherfucker, wake the fuck up right now!”

He stirred faintly, a low, sleepy groan escaping him, but his eyes stayed closed, lashes fluttering without focus. Deep in sleep, lost in whatever dream didn’t include the mess he’d made.

“Wake up, you hypocritical piece of shit!” The words burst out louder, and raw with everything you’d bottled until now. You crossed the room in two strides and yanked the blanket off him with a vicious tug, the fabric ripping away to expose the rumpled t-shirt and shorts underneath.

Jungkook jolted upright, eyes flying open, disoriented and wide. “Nooo— what?” His voice was thick with sleep, hand rubbing at his face. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? When did you come here? How— What happened?”

The confusion on his face only made it worse. You laughed, bitter and sharp, the sound foreign even to your own ears. “What happened? Are you fucking serious right now?” Your chest heaved as the dam broke, words tumbling out in a torrent. “You’ve been fucking me for months, Jungkook. Months. Sneaking me in here, pulling me close like I was yours, telling me over and over you’re ‘not ready’ for anything real. And now? Now you’re dating Lily? Lily? The same girl my best friend’s been crushing on for weeks? How could you do this to me? Do I mean nothing to you? Am I just some convenient warm body you hit up when you’re bored or horny or whatever the fuck runs through that selfish head of yours?”

You paced the small space between the bed and the dresser, hands gesturing wildly, the key still clutched in one fist like a talisman of betrayal. “I let you in. I gave you every part of me without asking for labels because you made it sound so fucking reasonable. ‘Keep it casual,’ you said. Casual! While I sat there swallowing my feelings every single time you pulled away. And meanwhile, you’re out there committing to her? Just like that? Like it’s nothing? Like I haven’t been the one dealing with your moods, your late nights, your stupid excuses? You’re such a goddamn hypocrite. A lying, two-faced asshole who couldn’t even text me today while you were probably out solidifying whatever bullshit this is with her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The streetlights hummed their steady orange glow over the quiet neighborhood, casting long, ordinary shadows that did nothing to soften the knot twisting tighter in your chest with every step. Your sneakers hit the pavement in sharp beats — thud, thud, thud — matching the rhythm of thoughts you couldn’t shut off.

Months.

You’d been letting him have you — fuck you — for months, skin on skin, his mouth hot against your throat. You let his hands map every inch of your skin like he owned it. And still he’d pull back afterward, breath ragged, murmuring the same tired line: ‘I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s keep things casual.’

Casual.

As if swallowing your feelings every time was simple. As if the way he’d text you at 2 a.m. just to come over meant nothing.

Hypocritical motherfucker.

You gripped the spare key he’d given you weeks ago — just in case, he’d said, like that small gesture balanced out the rest.

Jacob’s face flashed in your mind, the way he’d lit up talking about Lily last month, shy and hopeful. And now? Jungkook was dating her. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Why her? Why now? The questions burned, low and vicious. Why could he commit to someone else when he’d been buried inside you, whispering your name like a secret he couldn’t quite let go of? Why Lily, of all people — your mutual friend, the one who knew pieces of your tangled history without knowing the full truth?

You were tired. Bone-deep tired of being the convenient shadow in his life. The one he reached for when it suited him, then pushed away with pretty excuses.

Tonight, that ended.

Cuz you're going to fuck him up.

The apartment building came into view, its familiar glass doors reflecting your flushed face back at you. Then with no hesitation , you let yourself in with the key, the lock turning with a soft click that felt louder than it should. The hallway air was cool and still, carrying the faint scent of his laundry detergent from the neighboring units. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as you climbed the stairs, thoughts sharpening into blades.

Why her and not me? After everything — after the nights you stayed over, the mornings you made coffee in his kitchen like it was yours — why could he give that to someone else? Was he playing you? Is he fucking with you?

The door swung open under your hand. Darkness greeted you first, broken only by the faint blue glow of the city filtering through half-drawn blinds. You didn’t even bother with lights.

“Jungkook?” Your voice cut through the quiet, edged and raw. “Where are you?”

Silence answered. No footsteps. No low hum of his voice calling back.

The living room was empty, takeout containers still on the coffee table from some earlier meal. Your anger flared hotter— he hadn’t even texted you today. Not even once. While he was out solidifying whatever this was with Lily, you’d been left wondering, scrolling through those texts with Jacob until the words blurred.

You moved deeper inside, shoes silent on the hardwood. “Jungkook, I know you’re here. We need to talk. Now!”

Still nothing. The bedroom door was ajar at the end of the short hall. You pushed it open without knocking, the wood whispering against the frame.

There he was.

Jungkook laid sprawled across the bed in the dim light, one arm flung over his head, the other resting on his stomach. His chest rose and fell in the slow, peaceful rhythm of deep sleep, his lips slightly parted. The sheets were tangled around his waist, hoodie discarded on the chair nearby. He looked... untouched by any of it. Serene. Like the world outside his eyelids didn't matter.

Your breath caught, fury and something sharper — hurt, maybe betrayal — coiling so tight it hurt to inhale. It's late night, and he was sleeping like a man with nothing on his conscience.

No texts, or explanations. He was just sleeping like the piece of shit he is.

You stayed there in the doorway, fists clenched at your sides, the key still warm in your palm from the walk over.

You stood there another moment longer, the sight of him so peacefully unaware fueling the fire until it roared. “Wake up,” you snapped, voice cracking through the stillness like a whip. “Jungkook, motherfucker, wake the fuck up right now!”

He stirred faintly, a low, sleepy groan escaping him, but his eyes stayed closed, lashes fluttering without focus. Deep in sleep, lost in whatever dream didn’t include the mess he’d made.

“Wake up, you hypocritical piece of shit!” The words burst out louder, and raw with everything you’d bottled until now. You crossed the room in two strides and yanked the blanket off him with a vicious tug, the fabric ripping away to expose the rumpled t-shirt and shorts underneath.

Jungkook jolted upright, eyes flying open, disoriented and wide. “Nooo— what?” His voice was thick with sleep, hand rubbing at his face. “What the fuck? What are you doing here? When did you come here? How— What happened?”

The confusion on his face only made it worse. You laughed, bitter and sharp, the sound foreign even to your own ears. “What happened? Are you fucking serious right now?” Your chest heaved as the dam broke, words tumbling out in a torrent. “You’ve been fucking me for months, Jungkook. Months. Sneaking me in here, pulling me close like I was yours, telling me over and over you’re ‘not ready’ for anything real. And now? Now you’re dating Lily? Lily? The same girl my best friend’s been crushing on for weeks? How could you do this to me? Do I mean nothing to you? Am I just some convenient warm body you hit up when you’re bored or horny or whatever the fuck runs through that selfish head of yours?”

You paced the small space between the bed and the dresser, hands gesturing wildly, the key still clutched in one fist like a talisman of betrayal. “I let you in. I gave you every part of me without asking for labels because you made it sound so fucking reasonable. ‘Keep it casual,’ you said. Casual! While I sat there swallowing my feelings every single time you pulled away. And meanwhile, you’re out there committing to her? Just like that? Like it’s nothing? Like I haven’t been the one dealing with your moods, your late nights, your stupid excuses? You’re such a goddamn hypocrite. A lying, two-faced asshole who couldn’t even text me today while you were probably out solidifying whatever bullshit this is with her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘