I Know You ✅Jungkook ff(Jungkook X Reader)

3. PROPOSE

Y/n's pov

Jungkook's voice was so melodious. It enchanted all the Armies present at the concert. Even Yoonmin was extremely excited. "Jimin is sooo handsome..." she had squealed during the break. After two hours of pure bliss, the concert ended. Their last song, **Magic Shop**, didn't fail to bring tears to my eyes.

Everyone left the auditorium, and so did we. The campus was so crowded that it was hard to walk. I even lost Yoonmin. Suddenly, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, expecting that dumbhead, but instead, I saw a security guard.

"Are you Miss Y/N?" he asked in a professional tone.

"Yes?" I responded, confused.

"This is for you. Take it." He handed me a letter.

"Wait! What is this? Who gave—" Before I could finish, the guard vanished from sight. Yoonmin pulled my hand, so I slipped the letter into my bag and left the place.

*TIME SKIP*

It was 10 p.m.

"Love you so bad, love you so bad~"

Fake Love blasted through my speakers, and I was in full fangirl mode. I was busy swooning over Namjoon's dramatic finger-biting, Taehyung's lip-wetting antics, Jimin's soul-piercing stares, Hoseok's epic dance moves, Jin's sheer handsomeness, Suga's fire raps, and, of course, Jungkook's abs that could make anyone's heart skip a beat.

Just as I was about to start an interpretive dance to Jungkook's abs (don't ask), I suddenly remembered the letter. I halted my impromptu performance, grabbed the letter from my bag, and began reading it with all the seriousness of someone about to discover the secret to eternal youth.

By the end of it, my jaw was so far on the floor I had to get up and pick it up.

LETTER

Dear Y/N,

Make sure you're reading this in private. I really want to talk to you. Here is my number.

"XXX XXXXX XXXX XXX"

I will be waiting for your call.

From, The Masked Man (Who saved you that day).

_______________________________________

"WHAT THE FREAKING BANGTAN SONYEONDAN??!! JEON JUNGKOOK WROTE ME A LETTER??!" I exclaimed, not even bothering to keep my voice down. My neighbors probably thought I was auditioning for a role in a drama at this point.

But why did he use 'Masked Man'? Ah, I get it; he's trying to keep his identity on the down-low. Why did I have to yell so loudly though? I slapped my forehead, berating myself.

Why would he want to talk to me, anyway? My curiosity got the best of me, and I dialed his number with shaking hands.

("I just hope he's not asleep")

"Hello?" His deep, melodious voice made my heart do somersaults. For a moment, I completely forgot how to form coherent sentences.

"Yeobosseo? Who is speaking??" He spoke again pulling me out of my 

"Ah, Jung— I mean, Masked Man?" I said, almost tripping over my own words.

"Y/N? Is that you?" His voice suddenly brightened, like someone had just handed him a giant teddy bear.