You Might Think This Is Toxic But No It Is Yes It Isnt - Tumblr Posts

how about them fighting about a girl which jk unintentionally checked out?

You sulk with your arms crossed and lips in a pout while lying on your bed and staring at the ceiling, refusing to glance at Jungkook who stands by your side with an arched brow. It's silent in your dorm until he breaks it. "You're upset."

Without bothering to give him a response, you only cock a brow and hum.

"First step to solving a problem is to admit–"

"I don't have a problem, Jungkook," you immediately pick up a snarky tone, "thanks for taking the time to notice my mood though. I guess there aren't any other girls to notice when I'm the only one here."

His face twists in confusion as he stupidly blurts, "What?" At your scoff, he gently settles on the mattress to sit next to you as if trying not to scare away a stray cat. You're more of a wild tiger in this situation however; your anger always manages to intimidate him, and he has to approach you cautiously. "What other girls?" He keeps his voice soft to avoid an argument—it doesn't help.

"You tell me," you glare at him, "or did you not catch her name? The girl you seemed to fancy at the café? Don't mind me, you can go back and speak with her all you want."

A heavy sigh leaves his mouth as he closes his eyes for a moment. "I was looking at her tattoos–"

"Why don't you go ahead and ask about their meanings? I'd hate to keep you waiting."

His gaze turns cold at your constant interruption, eyes becoming hooded and the corners of his mouth lowering to a frown. "Are you going to let me talk or do you want to keep arguing with yourself?"

You click your tongue and return to your staring contest with the ceiling. The atmosphere is tense for no good reason, and it has him inhaling a deep breath as to not anger you any further by growing angry himself. It doesn't help.

"A tattoo on her arm caught my eye, and I understand why you would misinterpret that as–"

"Misinterpret? I'm encouraging you to ask her–"

"Zip– those fucking lips," he asserts calmly. "I'm talking. Quit being a brat." You sink into the sheets with a scowl. One of your pet peeves is being treated like a child in the literal sense, but you don't have the heart to bite back. "I liked a tattoo, and I took a look for one second. It doesn't mean I'm interested in her, or anyone besides you. You understand that, don't you?" You narrow your eyes with determination; determined to not be treated like a child with these condescending, rhetorical questions.

"Tell me you understand."

The corner of your mouth tugs up to a smirk as you remark, "Oh, I understand, but what I don't understand is why you didn't just ask her to get matching tattoos with you."

He rolls his lips inwards and puts a hand over his face as he exasperates, "Where did that even come from?" A groan later, he stands up and says, "That was a serious question. Would you please enlighten me on where that idea might root from to plague your mind? Hm, baby?"

You can sense he's going to say more, so you keep your mouth shut.

"Do tell me where you're getting all this bullshit from to spew it at me, I'm fucking begging you!" He raises his hands and flings them in emphasis, making you slowly sit up uncomfortably.

"I was just–"

"Where did it come from, that's what I want to know," he places his hands on the bed to lean into you, voice still rough and demanding with its volume, "tell me, come on, since you're such a fucking know-it-all."

Jungkook's ability to dominate an argument makes an appearance again, and you shift in your seat as you murmur, "Nowhere–"

"No no, you must have a reason for saying something so outrageous if it's been stuck on your mind," he presses incredulously.

"I was just mad!"

Jungkook hates arguing with you, he really does, but this approach has proven to be more effective with you countless times and playing nice is no longer on his mind when he's leveling with you. If being mean will make you drop this act, then he'll go to the extent of making you cry.

"Oh really?" he scoffs with a crazed grin. "I'm mad too, but you don't hear me talking about matching tattoos or some other dumb shit. You want to know what I think?" You don't move an inch out of hesitance and from feeling exposed by his close proximity, his wild eyes staring deeply into you. "I think you were being stupid," he whispers. "What do you think?"

You have to take a moment to wonder if he's being rhetorical or actually expecting a response, and when he waits patiently, you agree in a mumble, "I was being stupid."

"We're on the same page, good..." he's speaking quietly now, like he's going back to the nice guy from before, except there's no room for you to argue at this point. "What do we say when we realize we said something stupid to hurt someone?"

"I wasn't trying to hurt–"

"What do we say?" he lowers his head to look up at you, emphasizing each word menacingly.

"I'm sorry."

He cracks a tiny smile and palms your cheek, gaze turning soft with affection. "Good girl. I forgive you. See what happens when we talk things out? Think about that the next time you get stupid ideas." He pecks your lips before getting on the bed and lying down on his side to face you. A weight lifts off your shoulders as well as a burden from your heart when he pats the spot before him, beckoning you to be his little spoon. It's with a smile that you allow him to hug you tightly.