When I get messages anon or not to my inbox, I get so emotional. It's so weird that a person out there, in a different part of the world, who hasn't meet me or see my face, cares for me, send me love and good wishes. It's weird, but not in a bad way, in a good way . Maybe I just don't know a word to explain this feeling.
Sometimes people in our daily life, whom we see everyday, whom we spend lots of time, doesn't care us this much. They don't see the small things about us, or maybe we don't feel comfortable enough to share with them. But here people who hasn't meet in real life, can see real parts of each other's soul. They don't judge for how you look, what you wear, where are you from, what's your religion or political idea is. They only know as much as you share, they know you from mutual interest. It is such a pure communication. Without having a prejudice against each other. Sending love to a stranger, caring for a stranger, wishing well for a stranger...
It's so weird, yet it is so beautiful.
I want to thank everyone who pops up in my blog, whom I see frequently in my notifications, who send a kind message to my inbox or dm, who show love and support to my writings, who followed me, who reblogged or shared good posts that made me feel better, who write my favorite fics...
I am a little socially awkward, especially in real life. But here too. I am very bad a texting or keep contacting. I postpone answering messages sometimes because i dont feel ready to talk or answer or don't know what to say. Not because i don't want to, but i feel awkward sometimes. I rather send love from my heart and wish the best for them.
So, if i answer late, or text awkwardly and the talk got boring, i can't keep up contact, doesn't answer your tags etc., please know that I appreciate it, i appreciate you and your friendship. I just don't know what to say, how to answer, how to thank, how to ask someone how have they been, how to comfort or console someone. So I postpone or avoid doing it sometimes.
So if I have done any of these to you, please know that I care for you and appreciate you. Your friendship means a lot.
I opened this blog when I had such hard time with having friends in college. I was very depressed, always alone, envying other students who are hanging out with their friends. Hanging out with your friends or having friends is such a normal, daily life something, but why couldn't I do that? I was thinking and pitying my self. But this blog gave me friends, confidence, happiness and I spent lots of time here and enjoyed it. So it means a lot to me.
Summary: Because at the end of the day, he’s getting married and you’re just his best friend who happens to be his wedding planner.
Word Count: 2,000
Genre: fluff, angst, friendstolovers!au because i love myself a bit too much that i only end up hurting myself in the end and i basically imagined seokjin in a black tux and i think it’s so triggering that i blanked out halfway writing this.
Take care of him. Listen to him when he needs to let out his thoughts and emotions. Cuddle with him when he’s feeling sad and lonely. Hug him when he came home from a rough day at work. Love him as if you’ll lose him the morning after. And never regret it.
It all started a couple of months ago. It was on the day you were going to tell him your feelings because fuck it, you only live once right? But right when you think that Seokjin’s the one for you, right when you prepare to tell him that you’ve been in love with him for so long, right when you sit across from him at the cafe, he pulls out an engagement box.
“Y-You—you’re going to—what?” You’re surprisingly confused but he only laughs at you. “I mean—sure I’ll marr—”
“I’m planning on proposing to her,” he cuts you off, completely neglecting the fact that you had absent-mindedly said sure to a proposal that isn’t even for you.
“Her?” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “But you guys have been dating for a year and two months, don’t you think things are going a bit too… fast?”
“I can’t see myself spending the rest of my life with someone else,” he explains and when he opens the box it reveals the most beautiful ring you have ever seen. It probably cost your student debt which, you haven’t finished paying off.
“It’s beautiful,” you whisper and when you look up at him, you can’t help but push your feelings for him aside. You have no choice. “She’ll love it, Seokjin-ah.”
“You sure?” You nod your head in reply.
“She’ll say yes for sure, I mean, she wouldn’t want you to return a ring that probably costs her whole life, right?” You say jokingly and he chuckles softly.
You watch him as he stares at the ring with the most loving stare and you can feel your heart deteriorating. You’ve always wondered how things would be if you weren’t just a little too late.
“So, is that why you forced me to come all the way here to see you?” You question him out of nowhere and he looks up at you, tearing his intense gaze from the ring.
“I actually wanted to ask you something really important,” he smiles.
“Go ahead,” you insist.
“Since you’re really good at planning and you’re my best friend, I figured—”
“No,” you cut him off, “Seokjin, I’m not going to be your wedding planner—”
“What? Why?” He frowns.
“What if I mess up your wedding? You’d be so disappointed in me,” you say worriedly. “That’s the last thing I want for my best friend; a wedding disaster.”
“I trust you enough that you won’t do anything stupid,” he grabs your hands and you ignore the fact that they’re engulfing your small ones with warmth. “Please.”
You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. You slightly gasp when you see the first snow of the Winter season. With an immediate change of thought, you look back at him and smile.
“Fine,” you give in, “but promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t kill me if I do end up ruining your wedding.”
And so after months and months and months of planning, you’re standing at the entrance doors to the church, handing out brochures and shaking hands with guests. Jin’s got friends from places like France and Germany who have invested their time to see him step into a new phase of his life, he’s got the boys already lined up at the altar—he couldn’t choose one best man—, and he’s got a beautiful woman to wait for.
“You planned this really well, (Y/N)-ah.” You turn towards Namjoon who accompanies you. “The church and the venue look stunning, I wonder how much Jin dropped for this.”
“My student debt,” his mouth falls open, “and the telephone bills that I have yet to pay, maybe even my whole car which isn’t gonna be paid off until 2025, oh, and probably my—”
“Geez, she’s lucky to have a stable man like him.” He sighs, “aren’t you jealous?”
“Me? Jealous?” You scoff, “never. He’s happy, especially with her, and that makes me—”
“Don’t even try to lie, (Y/N).” He cuts you off with a genuine smile. “You know, the boys and I still wonder why it wasn’t you. I remember when Seokjin came home with the ring and we were dying to find out who the lucky woman was and when we didn’t hear your name, we were kind of disappointed.”
“I’m sorry I’ve let you guys down but, we should just accept it.” You say.
“Well, I can’t.”
“Well, you kind of have to.” You chuckle, “I’m sure fate gave me a sign before making a fool out of myself. Imagine me spilling my whole guts to him about my feelings before he pulls out the engagement ring that isn’t even for me. That would be extremely horrid.”
“And you know what’s even worse?” He purses his lips into a line. “Watching him invest himself in another woman and you didn’t do anything about it. He doesn’t even know about your feelings—”
“And that’s why I don’t tell him. Ever.” You mumble. “I don’t want to ruin something he’s wanted for a year and two months… and counting. He loves her, Namjoon-ah, and I can’t ruin that just because of my selfishness.”
Namjoon glances at you with a sad smile. He sees your eyes turn glassy and he immediately pulls out a handkerchief for you to take but you politely reject it. He pats your shoulder.
“You’re the most selfless person I know, (Y/N).” He mumbles. “Even Taehyung is selfless but I never thought I’d meet someone more selfless than he is until I met you.”
Before you could utter out a reply, a limo pulls up in front of the entrance and you gasp. Namjoon looks at you with a knowing smile before quickly running to the front of the altar with the rest of the boys. You signal for the guards to close the doors to the church as you walk down the stairs to meet the bride.
“Mijoo, you look beautiful.”
Jin’s soon-to-be wife, Mijoo, gets out of the car and fixes her dress. She glances up at you with a smile that stretches from ear to ear.
“Thank you, (Y/N), you look beautiful too.” She grabs your hand that you’ve offered for her to take. The both of you walk up the stairs as you assist her just in case she doesn’t trip over her long dress.
“Are you ready?” You question her.
“I’m really nervous.”
When the both of you reach the doors, you slowly let go of her hand before she squeezes it. You turn over your shoulder with a questioning gaze.
“Thank you so much, (Y/N). You’ve done so many things for us and I can’t find the right words to express how thankful I am for your commitment.”
You bow your head before leaning in to pull her into a hug. You pull away and you’re caught off guard when she reaches out to wipe a tear away from your cheek.
Yep, you’re always just a little too late. Is there a rewind button?
Halfway through the ceremony, the couple starts to say their vows. Seokjin clears his throat, holding Mijoo’s hands and looking into her eyes. You glance at him when he begins to speak.
“I know we’ve only met and dated for a short time but, I can’t see anyone else that I’d be with for the rest of my life. When you said yes, I just wanted to marry you right then and there but of course, I had to wait. And I’m glad I waited. I love you so much.”
Your eyes suddenly meet with Seokjin. You don’t notice how his smile suddenly falters. You feel a nudge at your side and you turn towards a random guest offering you a handkerchief. You grab it and wipe away the tears that have flowed down your cheeks. When you look back up at Seokjin, you flash him two thumbs up with a reassuring smile and he slowly returns it.
When he looks away from you and back to the bride, you take it as your chance to take your leave before you make a scene with your sobbing mess. You quietly get out of the pew and slowly head out of the church with nothing but a broken heart, a ton of tears, and a stranger’s handkerchief.
3 years later…
You throw out the trash and head back inside your house to grab your keys and bag. Hopping into your car, you drive to the local cafe to grab a cup of coffee before heading back to school to attend your lectures.
Your friendship with Seokjin seemed to have vanished after he got married to his wife. You’re sure that he’s too busy, he’s probably got a family already, and you completely understand that. While he’s somewhere in Korea taking care of his wife, you decided to go back to school and do your Masters degree.
More student debt. But the good this is, your car is almost done being paid off.
“Hi, what can I get you today?”
“I’ll have the medium caramel macchiato, please and thanks,” you smile at the barista.
“Alright, I’ll get you to wait over there at the pick-up station for your drink.” The barista gestures you to the pick-up station.
With your hand still digging in your bag for your wallet, you glance up at the waiter with a confused look. “What’s the balance I have to pay?”
“It’s already paid, miss.” You frown.
“Who paid?” You ask.
“The man over there.” The barista replies and you glance at a tall, broad-shouldered man sitting at the booth all by himself.
“Oh,” you mumble before looking back at the barista. “Okay, thank you.”
Seokjin looks up from his phone to see you heading towards the pick-up station with a confused look on her face. He smiles at how adorable you looked. When you look over your shoulder, he quickly looks back down at his phone. His eyes avert from his phone screen to his ring finger that is lacking an engagement ring.
3 years ago…
He looks back at your spot, noticing how you’ve disappeared. Mijoo nudges him softly and he quickly turns back to her, smiling apologetically. His eyes would linger back to your empty seat, and his mind was beginning to flood with thoughts about you.
And in an instant, it’s almost as if all his memories of you began to flash right before him.
“If a girl confesses to you, would you accept her confession?”
“Of course, who wouldn’t want to date Mr. Worldwide Handsome?”
“I didn’t mean it that way, fool! It’s just… there’s a lot of girls that adore you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! You’re just unaware of it. You’ll find her, someday. She’ll probably be standing right in front of you and you wouldn’t even know!”
He hears Namjoon clear his throat, and he looks at him. Namjoon smiles at him. Seokjin then looks back at Mijoo, who’s looking at him with concern.
“Fine, but promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t kill me if I do end up ruining your wedding.”
He sighs frustratingly, letting his head hang low. Suddenly, he lets go of Mijoo’s hands and looks at the priest. He bows his head apologetically.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He whispers.
“W-What?” Mijoo stutters.
Seokjin turns towards her and frowns, “I’m so sorry.”
Before anyone could object his actions, Seokjin’s pulling off his tie and running out of the church. When he’s near the entrance doors, he starts to hear the boys call out to him. He sighs to himself.
I think I’d have to kill myself for ruining my own wedding because of you.
A/N: Yikes lmao I hope you guys enjoy the last drabble for this series. I’m so happy with the outcome and the feedback. It’s just.. very overwhelming, in a good way. As always, feedback is very much appreciated!
Real thing that changed how i write: I started asking "what does this character think is wrong with them" and separately "what is actually wrong with them." Those two things are almost never the same. She thinks she's too much. She's actually terrified of being too little. He thinks he's bad at commitment. He's actually just never met someone he trusted enough. The gap between their diagnosis of themselves and the real thing, that's your character arc right there. you don't have to explain it. just write both.
summary: in which the truth hardly matters but all jungkook wants is to let somebody (you) love him.
idol!jk x afab!reader / established relationship/ fluff, angst / word count: 4k
warnings/content: jungkook gets a fever :(, he’s still keeping oc a secret but he js wants to love and be loved u guys </3, he’s stressed out and overwhelmed with work, he gets horny at one point lmao, oc is having doubts </3 and is a gem we must protect their happiness now!!
< in which masterlist
note: as always lmk ur thoughts :,) i miss talking to u all so much! + comment/send an ask if u want to be added to the taglist <3 i may have missed some the last time !!
—
as much as it disappoints him, jungkook is not invincible. the hood of his jacket wasn’t enough to shield him from the pouring rain, his hair leaving a trail of raindrops on the hallway leading to your apartment door. he anticipated the usual noise of your television, but the living room is empty. he walks into the bedroom and to no surprise, you breathe some warmth into his freezing heart.
you toss aside your headphones aside on the desk, standing up in alarm. “you’re dripping all over my floor!”
he shyly smiles, lifting up the plastic bag he’s carrying. “i brought the chicken.”
you stomp towards your annoyingly cute boyfriend and push him outside your bedroom, stumbling along with him. “get out of those clothes and take a shower, now!”
—
half an hour later, jungkook steps out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. you don’t spare him a glance, hyperfocused on the highlighted terms on your textbook and mentally cursing whoever decided on the font size. you simply point at the bed, where you laid out some clothes for him.
“you have no underwear here,” you tell him.
“oh, that’s right…” he chuckles. “i don’t leave any behind. i don’t want my girlfriend washing my dirty underwear.”
he steps into his sweatpants, pulling it up until his crotch is covered before removing the towel. he debates on whether to wear the shirt or not, then decides that it’s probably best for him to stay warm after getting himself rained on.
“so your dick’s just going to be swinging around tonight then?”
“i guess so!” he trudges to your chair with a grin and rolls you away from the desk. you groan as he traps you in his embrace, crushing the book and your folded knees between your torsos. “worst six days of my life. i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too,” you sigh, relaxing into his arms. you sneak a kiss on his warm rosy cheek. “let’s go eat so you can drink medicine. don’t want you getting sick.”
“school is giving you a tough time, huh?”
you should’ve known jungkook wouldn’t let you get away that easily. not until you’re breathless from his tickling attack, anyway. the thick book falls on the floor with a thud, but your own laughter is loud on your ears and it is the last thing on your mind. your attempts of defending your neck and your sides from jungkook’s fingers are fruitless. you’re not even sure if you’re actually that ticklish or jungkook simply makes you happy.
you look at jungkook with teary eyes, sniffling and catching your breath, but you’re smiling for the first time today.
“there it is,” he mumbles, hooded eyes admiring your face.
“i’m going to kick your ass!”
he just laughs and shakes his head at your attitude, finding it adorable, before kissing you. if the tickling didn’t work, this method has for sure succeeded in making you melt. his arms keep you steady on your chair and your hands grip at his shirt, pulling him closer as if that was still possible when his tongue is already in your mouth.
—
the chicken and kimchi fried rice have gone cold by the time the two of you got around to opening it, but nobody complained. you sat on the living room floor, turned on the television, and feasted on the midnight meal. jungkook thinks it’s worth it to have waited eating his dinner because he’s having it with you.
“i think it’s the first time i witnessed a professor not care about a student sleeping in class,” you recount the events of the previous days. “i get that it’s insulting, but also, i don’t think anyone actually decides that they’re going to sleep in class? for one, those chairs are uncomfortable!”
“i don’t see a point in embarrassing them, either,”jungkook agrees, plastic glove producing a crinkling sound as he chooses another piece of chicken from the box. he’s been purposely leaving out the drumsticks for you. “we’re all struggling, aren’t we…? do you want more rice? you can have some of mine.”
you only shake your head in response. you have more than enough. “how about you? how have you been sleeping?”
“me? well… it’s been a bit hard for me. i keep thinking about the tour even when my eyes are closed. there’s so much to prepare for,” jungkook sighs, shoulders heavy with worry and responsibility.
the scale of their work is only getting larger and the stakes are getting higher. it’s incredible to see how far they’ve become, but sometimes he looks around and everything and everyone is unfamiliar and it terrifies him. he wishes he could put it into words properly, speak his mind eloquently. he should be happy, and he is, but there is still this unease that feels almost permanent. there was once a time when making his debut as a member of bts and appearing on national television for the first time was the greatest achievement of his life. as jungkook’s dreams are getting higher and higher, is he developing a fear of heights?
“don’t get hurt, got it?” you send him a pointed look. “i won’t be able to go there. i’ll die worrying about you.”
“i mean,” he smiles toothily. “if you’re that worried, you’re free to come see me.”
you instantly snort upon hearing his invitation. in this universe?
“what will they do? fire me?” he acts cool, but he’s trying not to be mad and think about the ridiculous demands of being an idol.
“oh, as if!” you concede with a laugh. “then all seven of you would have to leave.”
“huh, that’s right. do they want us to renew the contract or not?” he puffs his chest and crinkles form at the corners of your eyes.
“the commercials are over!”
you’re so excited when it comes to your reality tv shows, he can’t help but to watch you instead. you and your cheeks full of rice and your mouth stained with sweet and spicy sauce. he just casually carries on eating his meal, because it might be too soon for him to say what’s on his mind. he doesn’t want to scare you off with the intensity of his emotions or make you carry some of the weight that comes with the life he chose. but for fuck’s sake, he truly believes that he deserves this. he deserves to be happy.
he wants to relate to all the love songs and the romantic comedies, and if god forbid you end up breaking his heart, then he will drown himself in sad songs and do whatever stupid things real people do like drunk text and regret deleting your photos during the anger stage of grief. maybe he will finally get it together and release a mixtape, make everything painfully obvious and never explain himself instead of lying through his teeth. goodness, he is in love with you. he’s been in love with you since that one night in november, when you sat down on the other end of the bench outside mj’s music box and offered him your homemade granola bar. there is no one else in the world who can have his heart beating out of his chest with the gaze of their eyes alone.
—
jungkook must’ve been dreaming of you.
“jungkook, who’s that?”
he squeezes his eyes shut not long after opening them, struggling to adjust to the light. the exertion of his sore muscles somehow makes his head a thousand pounds heavier. the room feels cold, but for some reason he feels beads of sweat forming on his forehead. what the fuck? is he actually fucking sick?
“oh? sorry, okay. i won’t ask.”
“what is going on?”
“lie back down, jungkook,” he hears the familiar voice of his manager. the man from earlier, the doctor he assumes, mumbles in agreement. “take it easy. you have a fever.”
jungkook collapses on the bed with a frustrated groan, hands coming up to his hair as the intensity of his headache hits him. he can feel the warmth radiating from his own skin. this can’t possibly be happening. he could’ve sworn that he felt completely fine yesterday. he thought he actually managed to escape from the rain unscathed.
perhaps he is too cocky for his own good.
“jungkook-ah?” seokjin bursts through the door. “you’re awake already?”
“hyung!” he cries out in distress. “how could this happen to me?!”
“what do you mean ‘how’? you carry everything in that gigantic bag of yours except an umbrella!”
yes, okay, i’m sorry, i know, i will next time— jungkook mindlessly replies on a loop as his jin-hyung assists him in getting properly dressed and freshened up. washing his face makes him feel a little bit better, but that meant being more aware of the needle piercing his skin as his doctor administers fluids. he doesn’t mind the small pinch of pain, but it certainly doesn’t feel great every time he finds himself in this position.
“yah, me and yoongi started cooking at 5am, so you have to finish everything and gain your strength back, got it?” seokjin demanded as soon as he set the tray on jungkook’s bed. “we need to go. we’re almost late for practice.”
“thank you for the meal!” he grins, rubbing his palms together excitedly.
“jungkook, i have to leave now,” his manager says from the door after attending to a phone call. “me and the doctor will come back in the afternoon to check up on you again. don’t forget to take your medicine after you eat!”
“so i’ll be here alone?”
“no, of course not,” jin laughs at his confusion. “____ will be here soon.”
“huh? you called?”
“what were we supposed to do? you were calling for ____ in your sleep like you were never going to see each other again or something! what were you dreaming about, anyway?”
“he’s got it pretty bad, doesn’t he?” his manager laughs out loud at jin’s teasing. “ah, youth… i’ve been there.”
“hyung, why speak like that? our ages are not that far apart,” seokjin interjects.
and bless his mouth that doesn’t stop running once it starts, the spotlight is diverted from jungkook’s dramatic yearning. he doesn’t even remember what he was dreaming about, but he wouldn’t put the accusation past him. he stuffs his mouth full with warm soup and rice, corners of his lips curling upwards at the ridiculous banter taking place infront of him, but mostly because the nausea has been replaced by butterflies. the moments he spend waiting to see you, he’s excited to stop missing you.
—
jungkook has fallen asleep again by the time you arrived, and you didn’t want to take the risk of waking him up yet. with your free time, you took the liberty of washing the dishes and tidying up his room. is this how he feels when he’s at your house? you wonder as every item of his that you touch makes you feel as though your heart is learning how to love him. it’s not your first time here, but you haven’t come over enough to know where everything goes. the best you could do was throw out small pieces of trash and organize the things on the table and the floor.
afterwards, you took the biggest bowl you could find in the kitchen, filled it with cold water, and grabbed a face towel from jungkook’s drawer. you gently begin wiping your boyfriend’s arms with the wet towel, smiling nervously as he wakes up almost immediately. you just couldn’t sit still and not do anything to bring down his temperature.
he stares at you wide-eyed, processing, before your name comes out from a hoarse voice. he throws his arms around you for a hug, and you squeak in alarm. “careful, your hand-” but he only squeezes you tighter, burying his face in your hair.
“i missed you.”
“so i’ve heard,” you tease, rubbing his back comfortingly. “let me finish wiping you down, then we can cuddle all you want. come on, lie down.”
jungkook’s gaze never leaves you as you take care of him. he blinks away the tears, blames it all on his headache, which earns him a kiss on the forehead before you leave the towel on top of it. this is the first time a lover is looking after him while he’s sick. suddenly, a part of him is happy that he caught a fever, some fraction guilty for feeling this way. a quick break from work. a valid excuse to spend time with you. a moment to fuel his dream and fantasy.
“drink some water, baby,” you hold up the glass, scooping your hand underneath his chin.
he slowly blinks up at you. “i love you,” the words slip away from him and he doesn’t try to stop them.
and as always, you sweetly smile at him and kiss his cheek. you know, and for today, that’s more than enough for jungkook.
—
“don’t get sick ever again,” you pout, snuggling against his side as you use his arm as a pillow. the hand with the needle sits on top of his abdomen, forcing him to lay on his back much to his discomfort. “you have no idea how worried i was, seeing you say my name like that.”
“you saw that?”
“he facetimed me for a minute.”
“aish, jin-hyung!”
“you’re looking much better. you were so pale earlier,” you playfully put your thumb and index finger on the space between his eyebrows, pulling the skin together to mimic his distraught expression from a few hours ago. “and you looked sad, but also mad.”
“probably the ugliest you’ve ever seen me, huh?” he clicks his tongue and turns his face away from you. “ah, i’m so embarrassed!”
“oh, don’t be stupid!” you squish his cheeks together and bring him back close, the tip of your noses bumping. “you’re pretty on your good days and bad days.”
pretty… he receives all types of compliments ranging from extremely flattering—unbelievable as in he doesn’t think he’s all that—to weirdly specific, downright ridiculous, in a who-even-comes-up-with-that way. he has read fan poems dedicated to his eyes, his smile, even article excerpts that spend paragraphs describing every inch of him and the trail of sparkles he leaves behind with every step. he likes the satisfaction of being praised by stylists on a regular basis, takes a good look in the mirror several times when he’s particularly satisfied with his makeup, his hair, his custom tailored clothing for the day. but there’s something about the way you’re looking at him, with the corners of your lips lifted ever so slightly, like when someone is watching a clear blue sky from the grass and for a moment it feels like everything one could ever need. and he believes you. with his bare face and chapped lips, and in his plain black cotton t-shirt—and he can’t believe he’s saying this—he does feel pretty.
“are you blushing?” you sit up for a better view of his face, and his poor effort at hiding his grin answers your question. “did you just need me to compliment you to get the color back on your face? do you like me that much?”
“i’m not blushing!” he flares his nostrils and bites the inside of his cheeks.
“you totally are!” you reach for his phone under the pillow and slide the screen to the camera. “you don’t believe me? i’ll show you!”
he buries his face on the pillow, moaning out a protest, but his belly aches as he gasps for air and laughs at the chaotic shaking of the bed and the silly noises you make to coax him back to the light.
“ou-ouch, i think i pulled a muscle…”
and then the room turns quiet and still. did you actually? he slowly lifts his head.
“got you!“ and he can’t get mad, feel anything but love really, when you start using your baby voice. “see, babe? i told you. pretty.”
he spares the photo a glance because, well, you want him to, and he does look better than he imagined. but he’s more interested in kissing your skin, your thigh being the closest.
“your manager texted. he’s asking if you want him to buy anything.”
“oh, just reply for me. tteokbokki!”
you blink down at him, trying to make sense of his penchant for biting you at random times. he’s one of a kind, isn’t he? a series of contradictions. there was a time when he felt awkward making eye contact with you, and now you’re sitting on his bed and freely using his phone without having to ask. well, not that you don’t. you believe in privacy in relationships. “i’ll add apples so you’ll leave my knees alone.”
“that isn’t guaranteed,” he giggles. “but i don’t mind eating apples too.”
“he said somin is coming here to drop off some of your work. who’s that?”
“what?”
“apparently,” you stare down at the new words that popped on the screen, a pit growing in your stomach. “somin can’t know i’m here.”
“fuck, we’re in trouble…” he slowly sits up. you can see the cogs in his brain turning and processing how to navigate the situation. “i’m sorry, baby. i’m- i’m still keeping our relationship mostly under wraps.”
that stung. you knew what you were getting yourself into… somewhat. yet your heart has begun racing with anxiety, and your face is turning warm as you feel your eyes watering.
“there’s too many things happening in the company right now… people are on edge.”
“hey, it’s fine,” you clear your throat, forcing a smile. “there’s no pressure. i understand it’s not easy for you.”
he sighs in relief. “thank you,” he caresses your cheek affectionately and you try your damn hardest not to breakdown at the softness of his touch. he is the cause and he is the cure.
“should i leave?”
“no, of course not. she’ll just drop something off so it’ll be quick.”
“but she can’t see me-”
the doorknob rattles. the room runs out of air.
“jungkook?” somin, you assume, calls out from the other side of the bedroom door. “are you there? why is the door locked?”
“what are we going to do?” you whisper-shout, panicking.
“jungkook?” the aggressive knocking makes the two of you flinch. “are you alright in there?”
“shit- shit, uhm-” jungkook whips his head around, legs bouncing as he searches the room for a solution. “just- damn it, why is this happening? just hide in the closet, i think?”
—
and that is how you ended up in your boyfriend’s walk-in closet, sweaty and breathing heavily with your back against the door. needless to say, this is not an ideal place for you to be. you hug your knees to your chest, telling yourself in your head that this isn’t serious, it’s not a big deal, it’s nothing to be scared of, just trust jungkook. but then you press your ear against the thin partition, and a part of you wonders if it’s right to allow yourself to go through all this trouble for a boy. haven’t you suffered enough in this lifetime to choose to be in this tough position? dating an idol out of all people? you don’t know enough facts to believe that you should be doing this.
maybe you and jungkook are still too young and naive. maybe love doesn’t defy all odds. maybe there are other things more important than love— love from a person who lives in a different world. you haven’t even said it yet— the three words even you are waiting to hear from yourself. it’s so selfish to be hoping that jungkook is out there fighting to keep you.
“we can’t help but to notice that you’ve been distracted recently. you know you have to tell us if you’re dating someone, right, jungkook?”
“noona, isn’t that a bit…?” jungkook laughs to mask his nervousness. “i have a fever so you guys think i’m dating?”
with a stoic expression, somin glances at the shoulder bag sitting on his gaming chair. white with pink accents. the front pockets are sparkly and transparent, filled with colorful pens, highlighters, and note pads. it stands out in a room full of his cool, clean, and neutral aesthetic. at that moment, jungkook realizes that he’s royally fucked.
“you need to tell us so we can take the precautions to protect you. we should trust one another,” somin says, going by the generic response handbook of professionals.
“protect me from what exactly?” he probes, not liking her tone that is seemingly painting his partner in a bad light. “i’ve been exhausted with work, that’s why i’m sick. we all know it’s been a lot lately.”
“the company thinks you’re distracted. i just speak for them.”
“well, it’s not true!” he purses his lips together when he realizes that he has raised his voice. “look, noona, i’m seriously not feeling well. it’s not the right time and place to be having this conversation.”
“i’m sorry, you’re right,” she sets down three binders on his desk. “make sure to be prepared for the interviews lined up for next week. there’s also some things we need your approval for by tomorrow afternoon, so notify us immediately in the morning if you’re still unable to come to the company.”
jungkook is suffocated by the sight of the amount of work piled up infront of him. he looks down at his hand and feels the urge to rip out the needle speeding up his recovery, but he just nods and smiles politely. “thank you. i’ll look through them right away.”
—
he comes back in the bedroom after sending off the company staff. “baby, she’s gone!” he waits for a few seconds, but hears no response. “babe?”
he walks into the closet while pushing the iv pole with him. “what are you doing? it’s so hot in here. you didn’t turn on the airconditioner.”
“wait! don’t look!” you squeal, scrambling to zip up yourself into the most interesting item you found among jungkook’s clothes.
you’ve already decided that you’re taking this home.
“what is this?” he gapes in shock, not having seen it in quite a long time. he was convinced that he lost it when they moved. “where did you find it?!”
you jump and turn around to face him, pulling the hood of the onesie over your head. with half of your vision obstructed, you announce “i’m pikachu!” and waddle over to your boyfriend who is in hysterics.
“i think i’m going to cry! what do i do? you’re so cute!” he engulfs you in a hug, rocking your vibrating bodies side to side. the usual smell of his fabric conditioner has long faded away, replaced by the distinct smell of a long time that has passed. “i can’t handle this. i can’t even look at you again.”
“why?”
“my heart is going to explode. seriously, it will.”
“i just saw the yellow peeking through among the blacks,” you giggle. “i thought it would be funny.”
“you just made me so happy.”
oh my god. whatever, fuck it. fuck everything. he fucking loves you.
his heart jumps when he notices your clothes scattered on the floor. “are you naked in there?”
“ugh, perv! i’m still wearing underwear!”
he squeezes you tighter in his arms, burying his face on your shoulder. “babe… that’s even hotter.”
“jungkook, stop being ridiculous,” he doesn’t need to see you to know that you’re rolling your eyes. “you’re sick.”
“hey, what does that mean?!”
—
jungkook’s manager and doctor awkwardly stand near the bed where the two of you have fallen asleep intertwined. you didn’t talk about what happened, what he said or what she said. he doesn’t know what you heard or if you heard anything at all. there’s a fresh white towel on his forehead. one of the binders lie open on his torso, its pages scribbled with his thoughts about music, touring, fame, and the fans, all in your neat handwriting. the uncapped blue pen has escaped your loose grip and rolled down onto the mattress.
his manager chortles and scratches his chin as he ponders whether to wake up the peaceful couple. he has even sliced three apples for you to share.
“sooo, this is ____?” the doctor mumbles. “may i ask what’s with the pikachu costume?”
“doctor lee, please stop talking…” the manager turns his back and covers his mouth to interrupt his laughter. “i’m going to need you to sign something for me later.”
if you often like or reblog my posts i 100% remember your username and mentally go “oh yes friend” every single time i see you in my notes or on my dash
