Why Am I Tearing Up - Tumblr Posts

milfpo1ice

1 year ago

in my eyes | jjk

pairing. jungkook x reader

genre. fluff, established relationship au

w.c. -2k

summary. Jungkook is tired of the way you look at yourself and decides to draw out exactly how he sees you in his eyes, in the end making you second guess your self-image entirely and fall in love with him all over again.

contains. a bittt of angst, jk’s drawing skills, insecure oc, a drunk-in-love/supportive jk (🥺), oc hates her appearance and jk wants to fix that, everyone needs a jk like this in their life 😕

concept was inspired by @bebejungkook's gym bunny :) lovey-dovey/suportive jungkook has me in a chokehold lately…

—

“Stop staring, Jungkook.”

Throwing his hands up in surrender, he travels his eyes up to yours through the mirror with a smirk growing on his face, his taller figure standing tall and proud behind you.

“I can’t even look at my beautiful girlfriend now?”

His hand goes to wrap around your waist from behind, but you quickly grab his wrist in an effort to stop him.

“It’s different when I’m practically naked.”

“I’ve seen your body so many times before, I know you remember those times…”

You lightly hit his chest at the implication, turning away from the mirror to grab your shirt off the bed and put it back on.

You didn’t expect Jungkook to barge in as you were examining your figure in the standing mirror, but he did and his gaze has been all over you since. You were wearing just panties and a dainty sports bra, your breasts overflowing out of the top, which is hot to Jungkook but tight and ridiculously uncomfy to you. You would size up but then it wouldn’t give you the right support. However, you sadly don’t blame the ridiculous manufacturers any more than you blame yourself.

In a way, you’re somewhat glad Jungkook walked in because if he hadn’t distracted you, the cruel thoughts that were brewing into something a tad more intense would’ve carried on. The more you stared into that mirror, the more that damned self-hatred grew.

You know he loves you and your body, but you still can’t help feeling this way. Especially when he's right there to see for himself, no matter how different his thoughts are compared to your own. You still hate what you see and subconsciously fear that he might too.

“You know I honestly don’t get it.” Jungkook perks up while throwing himself on the bed beside you, the bed shaking at the sudden impact.

“You wouldn’t.”

His aura becomes a little bit more serious at your comment, and he furrows his brow in gesture for you to elaborate.

“It’s just… you don’t look like this,” you motion your hands to your frame, “you're like a literal god… it’s kinda fucked up y’know.”

He can’t help the boom of laughter that he let out upon your statement, his hand landing on his chest in playful offense.

“Fucked up how?! And just so you know, everyone has something they don’t like about themselves, it’s normal… even for 'gods' like me.”

You throw the nearest pillow in reach at his face, causing another one of his mischievous giggles.

In a way, he’s right. In an obvious, literal way he may be somewhat onto something. But when he speaks for the majority, you somehow don’t feel as if you’re eligible to fall into that ‘majority’. Sure, everyone is insecure one way or another, but when you feel as if you simply cannot accept yourself, it’s not the majority that’s on your mind, it’s only you. You and your problems, the problems that feel too big to let go of just because others might feel the same about themselves. To put it simply: your too caught up in this complex and bitter perspective to care about how common and normal it may be.

So, because you don’t completely agree with Jungkook’s encouraging words, you simply skip pass them.

“I don’t mean to like… pester you, by the way. I know you’re fed up with me always talking about it by now.”

He swears he feels a piece of his heart break off when he notices how upset you genuinely are about your appearance and now how you feel guilty for hating it. He’s ran out of words to say, because it’s not a far stretch for him to draw the conclusion that you don’t take much thought into them anyway. He knows you appreciate him, but appreciation and actually accepting his help are two very different things. Two different things that are usually associated with each other, but there’s no association here given you won’t let him help you. Your mind is set and he loves you dearly, but damn you’re stubborn when it comes to this. And it’s killing him not being able to help.

So this is it. He can’t keep seeing you like this. Time to resort to the last option.

“You’re right, I am fed up.”

Your heart sinks at his words, expecting him to say something completely different. Drench you in kisses, tell you not to say things like that. So his agreement startles you in a way. Not that you would have listened. But still, his new, unfamiliar words are enough to shock you.

“I— Oh. Okay, well I’m sorry for that I didn’t-”

You cut yourself off when he gets up from the bed, leaving the room in the in the matter of seconds and leaving you sat there against the headboard, beyond confused.

You attempt to think over the brief conversation you just had, only puzzling yourself further when you don’t see anything too wrong with it. What could you have possibly said that hit a nerve?

You stay frozen, not really capable of doing otherwise, and right when the idea of calling out for him comes to mind- he walks in again. Except this time he has his sketchpad and pencil in hand.

He’s fed up so… he’s going to draw? You can’t tell if you’re confused or fond of how adorable that is.

“What are you doing?” You ask in a small voice, still taken aback by this new behavior of his.

“I’m drawing.”

You resist the urge to say “no…” in an overly exaggerated, sarcastic tone, though you resist. Joking may result in pushing it further. Instead, your head tilts and your eyes squint, not understanding your adorable yet very random boyfriend at all.

“Okay… Um, what are you drawing?”

He tilts the sketch pad down to show you his dumbfounded face.

“You, duh.”

Oh.

“Jungkook, baby, that’s cute but -“

“But nothing. I’m gonna let you finally see what I see, just trust the process and stay right there.”

You groan at his tactics, genuinely flattered at how much he cares but you know one drawing won’t change years worth of self hate. Again, you appreciate him. So, so much. And you’re happy to see how determined he is when it comes to your self-acceptance, but things like this don’t heal overnight. Jungkook knows that deep down, but it never hurts to just try.

“It's gonna take you so long to finish, plus I'm tired.”

“Then take a nap.”

You throw another pillow at him, biting back a giggle after he glares at you. A bubbly feeling of genuine contentment and relief given he’s not actually mad washes over you. You’re happy that the mood shifted. It’s Jungkook, the light of your life and reason for existence, after all, of course you feel bubbly.

“Don’t you need my eyes to be open?”

He doesn’t look up when he speaks, his full attention on the pencil that’s sketching lightly against the paper.

“Jagi,” he starts in a matter-of-fact tone, “I know your eyes like the back of my hand, probably even better to be honest.”

Your heart can’t help but to feel all mushy like a teenager in love at your boyfriend’s statement, and you put actual effort into not smiling.

“Yeah, yeah,” you attempt to shrug off, eyes falling shut as you get comfortable in your spot, “just hurry up.”

…

You didn’t intend to actually fall asleep.

But the tranquility of laying besides Jungkook, comfortable silence running throughout the room and being accompanied by the delicate noise of the pencil streaking softly against the paper, as well as Jungkook’s slow, concentrated breathing, it was more than enough to make you to doze off.

Hazy eyes fluttering open, you gulp to cure your dry mouth as you instinctively turn your head to see your boyfriend, only to discover he’s not there. You also take note of the time displayed on the digital clock propped on his nightstand, your brows creasing as you slowly sit up.

It’s three in the morning, and the lights are off, candles blown out, and the door is closed. Jungkook must have turned everything off for the night, and that leads you back to wondering where he could be.

You kick the heavy comforter off your legs, slipping out of bed and reaching over a bit to tug the lamp on.

You glance at the hallway of your master bedroom, assuming to see him in the bathroom but the lights there are off too.

“Jungkook?”

Your voice is hoarse due to the deep, rather good, sleep you just had. So your efforts to call for him was a fail.

However, glancing in the direction of the bathroom, you notice his sketchpad is wide open and strategically propped against your lamp with a ripped out page laying in front of it.

You try your best not to peak at the displayed page before reading the small note that reads ‘love u, hope this makes u love u too. ur pretty cool or whatever so I think ur missing out. -the boyfie’.

The note itself was enough to make your heart turn to mush, so when your eyes met the page of the sketchpad, it just about melted.

On the small page laid a sketch of something capable of capturing your whole heart, engraving itself into it and making you feel as if you are in the clouds. It’s a drawing of you, that part is unmistakable, but something is different about it.

You think it’s… beautiful.

Of course doubts start to rain on your short lasting self-love parade. You can help but wonder is this drawing just an exaggeration? Does he really see you like this in his eyes? Do you really look like this? This is you after all… so why do you like what you see? How are you liking what you see?

“Holy fuck, Jungkook.” Are the words that come out upon a deep exhale, realization hitting you harder than ever before.

You almost want to cry. Not only do you really like this drawing of yourself and for once you see yourself as beautiful, but he drew it. Jungkook, put in effort to draw out exactly what he thinks you look like, all because he wanted you to feel this euphoric, relieving feeling. He didn’t give up on making sure you love his favorite person as much as he loves her. That person being none other than you.

God, you love that man.

Standing up, sketchpad in hand, you make your way to the standing mirror. Your eyes repeatedly go from the paper to the mirror, and your heart feels as if it’s teleported away and is currently surfing on the moon. Odd explanation, but the most accurate analogy. You can’t pinpoint what it is about the drawing. There’s no exaggerations now that you’re comparing it to your real body, but something about the drawing is so exquisite.

It’s like an illusion of some sort. The more you compare your real reflection to the page, the more your real body becomes dead on with the drawing. Like the drawing is unlocking a different perspective and leaving you with no choice but to understand that just like the sketch, you’re beautiful.

A tear wells up into your eye, and you decide that’s your cue to get ahold of yourself and find Jungkook so you can try your best to express even a fraction of the love you have for him.

Opening the door, the scent of… something catches your senses. Looking into the kitchen, your boyfriend’s back is to you as he continues to work in the dim light of the kitchen, stove on as he stirs something in the pan that’s on top of it.

It’s like you love him even more after that whole thing, which you didn’t even know was possible given how in love you were with him prior to. But here you are, almost nervous to speak as you continue to gawk across the room at Jungkook. You settle on clearing your throat to draw his attention. You had a lump in it anyway.

Turning around swiftly, his bunny smile makes an appearance and the corners of your mouth dip down in a fond way. You can’t help yourself when you stride over to him, collapsing yourself into his arms (which you do end up regretting when he stumbles) and trying your best to show him a physical gesture of ‘I love you’.

He picks up quickly, embracing you tight with his arms wrapped around you like he doesn’t plan to ever release. His lips find sanctuary on the top of your head, absentmindedly swaying your bodies side to side as you continue to stand there and just hold each other for a moment.

“I saw the sketch.” Your muffled voice speaks against his bicep that’s currently flexed due to how tight his hold on you is.

He lets out an airy chuckle against the top of your head, some stray hairs of yours fluttering at the abrupt breeze.

“Never would have guessed,” he jokes, “did it work? Do you love you now?”

You can’t help but to laugh at his purity and innocence, tugging away slightly so that he can release his hold and you stare up into his eyes, hands cupping his cheeks.

“Not as much as I love you, but really close.”

His eyes spark with a look of admiration. He knew you were capable of at least trying, so knowing that he took part in that first step of your self-love process, the fact that his drawing is what kickstarted that very process, it warms his heart and he’s glad to be in your life.

“That works for me.”

You rise on the balls of your feet to capture his lips in a hunger-fueled way, passion engraved in your intentions and lacing its way onto his plump and just-as-eager lips.

If he weren’t in the middle of cooking, you would have been more than okay with standing there, kissing him all night. So pulling away, you nod over to the stove that was left unattended to.

He turns around as if you reminded him, quickly turning the nobs off and sighing of relief when he uncovers the lid of the pan to discover he didn’t ruin whatever was inside.

“It’s three in the morning, why are you cooking?”

Your tone was soft, still hazy as you weren’t fully back down from cloud nine yet.

He grabs two plates from the cabinet, falling silent for a good moment or two as he continues his task, finally turning to face you as he answers, this time with two plates of carbonara in his hand.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been sleeping early lately to avoid dinner…”

His tone was too soft and very timid, like he felt bad for calling you out but he knew he couldn’t just not address it. Your eyes flick to the ground.

“Hey, I’m not disappointed or anything. Today can be the start of changing those old habits, okay?”

Again, you find yourself on the verge of tears. Happy tears. The effort he’s putting into maintaining your well-being is so overwhelmingly comforting and you find yourself understanding why it is you fell in love with him in the first place. You can’t picture a life without him.

“I…” As soon as your eyes flick up to meet his, you break. Not too badly, but soft tears do begin to stream rather quickly down your face.

He reaches over to place the plates on the counter in front of the barstool chairs, latching his arms back around you as soon as he gets the chance.

“It’s all a process, and I’ll be here with you every step of it.”

His words are so utterly genuine and you can tell how it’s real and coming straight from his heart. You can tell how much he just wants to be there for you if you’d just let him.

And for the first time, you’re letting him.

“I love you, Jungkook. So fucking much.”

~~~

A/N: ahhhh my first fluff one shot!!! I hope it wasn’t underwhelming 😭 I’ve had writers block for a minute but I rly wanted to finally just finish this one up. anyways, stay tuned for more stuff :) i just need to get over this writers block first lol… oh and i have a series on the way??? get ready for dilf/professor jk everyone 🫠

Tags :

comfort fav why am i tearing up

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naneun-no

1 year ago

Aaaaahhhhhhh it was Jimin who shaved J-Hope's head for enlistment