Hey Can I Be On The Taglist For University Superstar?

hey can i be on the taglist for university superstar? 🥺

Hi hi hi!! I am honestly still considering a taglist atm 😔

When I decide to do them or not, I will probably make an announcement. But as for right now, I'm going to stick to a hashtag for University Superstar so that it can be easy to find on my blog or on the app.

The tag will be just #universitysuperstar and #university superstar

I hope that's okay

please please more chapters of University Superstar🙏🏻🙏🏻😍

I absolutely will! Working on it rn! 🧞‍♀️

I have a few scenarios planned out in my head, but school is nuts and life is even more nuts, so Imma try and get them out as fast as time allows me to.

University Superstar is 🤌🏻 Just so, SO good. I can do totally picture your JK 🫠🥴Thanks for sharing your immense talent with us🫰🏻 I’m an old ass fangirl and thought maybe if you ever decide to write asks that you could write about Namjoon with a much older artist or museum docent. 😏 I may or may not have had an exhibition or two 🖼️ and the idea that Kim Namjoon saw any of my pieces sends me… ⚰️

Kim Namjoon Drabble 1

[Summary]: Kim Namjoon is a frequent visitor at the museum you work at. In fact, he’s visited so often, he’s gained your museum's platinum gold card for passes on all exhibitions and the cafeteria’s sweet tea. You’ve come to realize that Namjoon is the biggest art nerd you’ve ever met outside of yourself when he started to find you after every exhibition and ask you questions about the artist. However, your subtle feelings for the man start to go a-wire when he beings to ask questions about you instead.

[Theme]: MuseumDocent!AU, Artist!AU, ArtNerdNamjoon!AU, Museum!AU, FriendsToLovers!AU

[Rating]: Fluffy fluff fluff; slice of life.

[Word Count]: 1,773

[A/N]: Hmmmm, this is going to be difficult. Mainly because I am only slightly younger than our golden maknae, Jjk. However, that doesn’t go to say that I haven’t read scenarios where Y/n was older than one of the members…but I also have not personally written any like that either. BUT! That doesn’t mean I can’t try. I hope this meets your expectations.

Besides, Namjoon in a museum makes me leek 🥬

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

You love this museum.

The smell of it, the look of it, the organization of it — you love it all. You love it so much, you’ve become a docent there.

Walking about the museum while you flaunt your knowledge on the various famous pieces, featured pieces, and sometimes, some of your own pieces, has been the source of your happiness for years now.

Your job never lets you down. In fact, you find that by the end of the day, your spirits have been lifted higher than what it was the last time you came home from work.

Especially nowadays.

Recently, a certain someone has been a part of nearly every single tour you have conducted within the past two weeks. He’s a tall man — sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the many old people and young children in the groups you guide. Not to mention, he's one of the most attractive people you have ever seen. Shaggy hair, brown eyes, and teeth that flash at you with every new piece of information you tell him, the man has somewhat stolen your heart. Even more so when he somehow finds you at the end of each guide to hound you for hours about the artists he found the most intriguing.

Kim Namjoon was his name, and given the many times he’s found you in the museum’s cafeteria after a guide, you’ve come to notice that the man has become such a frequent visitor he became eligible for the museum’s platinum gold membership card. Free sweet tea and admission to docent-guided tours, he took the upgrade and has since joined in on your groups.

There’s a pep and swing in your step as you make your way to work today. That twinge of nervousness you also contain shows as you shakily open the doors to the museum.

“You excited?” one of your best friends, Taehyung, asks. He’s smiling wide, clenching a pencil in his hand as he waits for your answer. You almost think he could be more excited than you with the way his eyes crinkle and his finger taps at the wood of the receptionists’ desk.

“You have no idea,” you laugh, swiping into the room that he stands in. You quickly clock in before you wipe your sweaty hands on the fabric of your skirt, hoping that your claminess goes away soon.

“I saw some of your pieces,” he faces you. “I still can’t believe those came from you! I know you’ve showed your pieces here before, but these are beyond anything I’ve ever seen you do. It’s like you went mad or something.”

You smile at his comment, a little blush forming on your face as you accept his compliment.

“That reminds me,” Taehyung grins once again. “A certain man by the name of Kim Namjoon is coming to your welcome exhibit. ‘Was the first to sign up.”

“I know,” you laugh. “He really likes art. It’s crazy how smart he is, too. I swear he grasps knowledge like a computer.”

“I dunno,” Taehyung purses his lips. “Seems he might like something else, too,”

“Stop it,” you shoot him a look. “Namjoon is an innocent nerd. Besides, I swear I’m like 10 years older than him.”

“Actually, 6 1/2,” Taehyung corrects.

“Point proven,” You observe while messing around with the computer in front of you.

“You do realize that there’s 5 other museum docents in this place, right?” your friend laughs. “Not to mention you usually conduct guides at the most inconvenient times for the general public. I doubt he’d come here and schedule tours with you if it meant he didn’t get to see you at any given moment during the week.”

“Have you ever thought of the possibility that maybe I'm just really good at my job?” you ask him teasingly.

“That’s not what I meant,” he laughs.

“I know,” you commence your teasing. “What I mean to say is, Namjoon is too… pure for that. I sincerely haven’t noticed a single flirtatious intent or ‘look in his eye’ during the multiple times he’s been here. Genuinely, he loves art and wants to know everything about it before moving on to learning about the next art style, time period, or artist he chooses to jump to next.”

“You could be right,” he looks to the door realizing that a customer has started walking up to the receptionist area. “Or he may have been asking me about you since before he started tagging along on your guides.”

----

You’re thinking about what Taehyung said all day.

He’s been asking about you? What specifically has he been asking about? And for how long has he been doing so before he started making an appearance at every guide you conducted?

Questions flood your mind, but excitement also overwhelms it.

Your exhibit has fully opened.

All your selected pieces for this have been displayed just like how you envisioned them to be. There's a crowd of people waiting to see what you’ve got, and best of all, Namjoon is there. He’s got a giant notebook in his hand, a cup of coffee in the other, and a big smile on his face as he spots you amongst the crowd.

You’re busy greeting critics, familiar faces, friends, family, and coworkers while you answer various questions and walk around the room explaining your art. You almost forget Namjoon is there until you get a free moment, and a tap on your shoulder sends a warm reminder that your eager art enthusiast has made it to your exhibit.

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” he smiles in awe while pointing to a painting near you two with the back of his pencil. “I have to say, though. Your pieces really make me think.”

“I’m no stranger to your questions, Namjoon. You know you can always ask me anything,” you blush.

“What was your muse?” he asks, still staring at the painting he pointed at. You have to turn around to look at which piece he’s talking about. Of course, this was one of your favorites out of all the pieces. You spent years on this one. Multiple trips to the same space out of the country, talks with natives, and fully immersing yourself like one. This one took the most thought and energy you’ve ever put into a piece. You’re flattered he’s mentioned this one out of all the others first.

“For this one, specifically? Or for the general theme of the exhibit?” you double-check.

“For this one — although, that was my second question,” he laughs. “I just happened to notice this one didn’t really match the theme. The rest all fall within a certain feeling, but this one caught my eye first.”

“I’m glad,” you banter. “This one is my favorite.”

“It’s mine, too,” he smirks, the warmness in his eyes flaming your entire body.

“As for the muse, it’s still hard to define,” you candor. “This one took the longest. So many stages of my 20s and mid-life crises and, well, life were all a mosh-pit of emotions on this one. I could only work on it in Iceland, too.”

“Iceland?”

“Yes,” you laugh at yourself. Saying it out loud, it sounded stranger than you thought it would. “So much inspiration came to me there. Before I knew it, I started saving the majority of my money just to travel there and work on this piece there.”

There's a pause. The business of the room engulfs you as the two of you look at your piece.

“I want to know you, Y/n,” he suddenly blurts out. You almost get whip-lash from how quickly you turn your head to face him once again. “You’re seriously such a talent to me. I want to know you and all your muses. What got you into art and art history and working here. All of it — I want to know it all.”

Now you’re seriously confused.

Maybe it was the way Taehyung told you that it was a likely possibility that Namjoon did like you despite your previous observations that he didn’t. Or maybe it's that glint in his eye that suggests that he truly wants to know more about you other than the fact that you work and present your art in the museum he frequently goes to. You don’t know. But you’ve always been opportunistic, so you take his mysterious sentiment into question.

“Namjoon, have you been talking about me with my co-worker?” you ask, that speed in your heartbeat making its way up your chest.

Namjoon blushes, smiling down at his notepad. “I knew that loser couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” he laughs to himself. “I have. But I promise, all good things.”

“Namjoon, I have to be honest. Taehyung did say some thi—”

“It’s all true,” he nods his head while looking back up at you. “Listen Y/n, as much as I love your tours, this was the one I wanted to go on the most. Your art, your voice, your presence —this is what I was the most curious about. All those questions about the artists I asked you about after those tours — I genuinely just loved listening to your passion. Hearing you talk about what you love and looking at you show off the work you put your soul into. I dunno, maybe I’ve developed a crush.”

Your heart beats out of your chest. Are you really that oblivious? You’re 6 1/2 years older than this man — you should know when a person has been crushing on you by now!

“Namjoon, I’m old,” you blurt, laughing at yourself. A part of you can't help but feel a little insecure about your age. One to two years and you're usually in the 'go' for a lot of romantic things and partnerships with others. But 6 1/2? That's more so unheard of nowadays.

“I could call you ajumma if you wanted,” he smiles teasingly.

“I’ll kill you,” you playfully threaten him. The flutter in your tummy is a little too overwhelming as he flashes his teeth at you, that look telling you that he’s really serious about this crush he’s developed.

“Seriously, Y/n, I couldn’t give a fuck about age,” he says. “I stand by the fact that I’d become gay and date a 570-year-old da Vinci if he were still alive today.”

“Art whore,” you laugh.

“So let me take you out,” he continues, simmering his laughter. “Coffee tomorrow at 10?”

You feel a strange weight lifted off your shoulders. Nodding your head at his question, you feel like you’ve maybe developed a new muse.

[End]

-----

[A/N]: Ajumma (아줌마) - [N], a Korean term referring to a married or middle-aged woman; typically a woman of one's parents' age or older.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023] 

When She Loved Me

[Summary]: How does one live when life is bound to end? 

[Theme]: Terminally Ill Reader, Non Idol AU, CEO Jungkook AU, Engaged AU, Married AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes, a truly heart wrenching piece. Please read with caution and with full intent to break your own heart. 

[Word Count]: 11,265

[A/N]: I truly broke my soul with this one. If you really want to cry, listen to my muse for this piece: “When She Loved Me” by Sarah McClain (yes, the one from Toy Story) or "Stuff We Did" by Michael Gaicchino (from UP)

[Materialist]

It’s spring — your favorite time of year. The air is brisk, but the sun warms his skin despite the chill in the air.

He watches the cherry blossoms fall dramatically as the wind pushes through the branches of the trees. They flow through his hair, catching on his clothes and his skin. 

He thinks about you as they whirl around the city, wondering if you’re able to see the blossoms through your window.

Jungkook doesn’t have to check into the hospital anymore. He’s become a regular there. In fact, he’s come so often, he knows the names of all the nurses on your floor. Jungkook is a friendly guy, and he’s come to know each nurse quite well.

Your personal nurse, Nurse Sandy, greets him as he makes an appearance on the 4th floor. Jungkook gently wraps his hand around the knob to your room, just about to push it open until she speaks.

“You won’t find her in there, love,” she smiles. She finishes cleaning up an area on a movable cart before she officially turns his way. “She’s up on the roof,” she points to the door at the end of the hallway.

“Ah,” Jungkook shyly bows in thanks. His hand comes up to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. There’s a sense of slight slight awkwardness in the air from his mistake. 

“She’s been up there for a while,” she explains.

Jungkook simply nods before telling her that he’s going to join you. She lets him go, watching the grown man make his way towards you.

He catches you leaning against the metal bars encasing the rooftop. Your arms are folded against the railing, and your leg is crossed over the other as you stare out into the openness of the city. He can imagine your face — eyes closed and a content smile on your lips — as the breeze takes over your body.

You’re beautiful, even standing with your back faced to him; even with a cart of fluids attached to one side of your body, and an oxygen tank placed on the other. Nothing can take away from you.

“You can say something, you know,” you break the silence.

Jungkook feels his heart nearly leap out of his body. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Or how long you knew he was standing there. Embarrassment floods his cheeks as he clears his throat.

“S-Sorry,” he laughs. Jungkook makes his way over to you, leaning his arms against the metal just as you are.

“The weather is perfect, Kook,” you sigh in content. When he looks to you, his imagination is confirmed reality: your eyes are closed and your lips are lips pulled up in the most delicate way. A clear tube stretches across your cheeks, but it doesn’t take away from your beauty. You’re you, and he finds himself staring in admiration as the cherry blossoms flow around your delicate frame. It’s like they’re pulling you into the spring.

“Your cheeks are cold,” he observes. The redness of your nose and the red skin at the corners of your eye do little to hide from how the weather effects you body.

“Are they?” He watches you open your eyes, gently touching your cheeks with your fingertips. “Oh—I guess they are. I hadn’t noticed,” you smile. “Winter is still in the air, but I couldn’t just sit in that room and watch the blossoms fall from the window.”

“I got a scarf if you want,” he suggests.

You attempt to refuse, but he’s already pulling it out of his bag and gently wrapping it around your neck and shoulders. He’s careful with the cords, not wanting to damage or ruin anything as he wraps you in his clothes.

Once he has situated the scarf a few more times, he’s looking at you, a content smile on his face. He loves moments when you let him do this—when you let him engulf you with his warmth. It makes him feel special.

You’re leaning against his chest in the next few moments, wrapping your arms around his waist and sighing against his chest. You missed him. Even though you he visits you everyday, you miss him in every moment he is gone.

Jungkook rubs your back, one of his hands pressing your head into his chest as he places a kiss on top of your scalp.

“How long have you been out here?” He asks you.

“Since this morning.” His chest rises from your words. You stop him with your own, knowing what he was about to reprimand you for. Don’t worry, I ate,” you chuckle, poking his chest. You knew that was going to be his next question. “Nurse Sandy has been out here with me for most of the day, waiting for you to come and give her a break.”

Jungkook chuckles, holding you closer against him when a strong breeze blows against the two of you. He protects you from it, turning you gently so his back shields your body from the wind.

“I hate being in there,” you mumble. He almost doesn’t here it, but if it wasn’t for the small break in the wind he probably wouldn’t have. “I wish I could sleep next to you again.”

“I know,” he kisses your head again. “You’ll get out of here soon. I know it.”

You don’t say anything. Instead, you rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with curious eyes.

“What?” He laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear. It’s become thin, the nutrients it had just a couple years ago has been completely sucked out. But Jungkook doesn’t mind. As long as you don’t mind, he’s alright. Everything about you is beautiful. You could be bald or patching or have the worst allergic reaction on your skin from some of the medications you take, but he wouldn’t care. Behind all that is you, and he loves your soul with all of his.

“Nothing,” you give a small smile. It seems forced, but Jungkook pays no mind. He knows not to expect too much—your mind has been haywire lately, thinking and thinking and thinking. He knows you’re stressed and exhausted.

It’s been two years since you got sick. He’s been there the entire way, watching you change and get angry at the world and try your best to just suck it up and wait to get better. But he knows how hard you’re trying to be positive. He knows it’s the hardest thing to harbor when you’ve been waiting so long for just some good news.

But he also knows you need a rock to lean on; hell, he’d turn into one physically if that’s really what you needed. He’s been there for you as a shoulder, as a weight to keep you grounded. Though you might have a hard time seeing any positive in the world, he would always see something positive in you.

“You wanna watch that new anime?” Jungkook breaks the silence. “The one on Netflix you saw the last time we were browsing through shows?”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “I’m so glad you brought that up because it’s taco night in the cafeteria and I was so excited to bring back an old tradition.”

You’re referring to your taco and Netflix nights a while back before all this happened. It used to be your thing to do with him. Your “date night”, one could say. It’s been hard to get permission to bring in outside food from the hospital, though. So you were nearly jumping out of your bones, your heart monitor going crazy, when Nurse Sandy told you about taco night.

“They’re probably not going to be ‘Maria’s Flaming Taco’s’ good, because it’s crappy hospital food, but I don’t even care,” you explain. “I just want to be with you.”

Jungkook smiles at your reaction, the butterflies in his tummy doing nothing to hide the way your happiness fuels his affection for you. 

“It’s a date, then,”  he nudges his nose against yours. He plants a small kiss on your lips afterwards, allowing himself to feel you on his skin.

A part of his head tells him to savor it, because he never knows when the last time might be that he gets to kiss you so. But the largest part of him, the part that’s been keeping him together during all of this, tells him that moments like this will come again. That hope is in the air as spring brings about new life.

You’re going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright.

__________________

“How’s about this one?” Jungkook points to the shiny diamond below the clear casing. There’s a a collection of earrings, necklaces, and bracelets surrounding the specific jewel he points out.

“Hmm,” you hum, tucking your hair behind your ear as you stare down at the diamond. It’s huge — extremely dramatic in size and way too detailed. “I don’t think it represents us that well,” you candor.

“You’re right,” Jungkook sighs. He runs his hands though his hair in slight frustration.“I feel like we’ve been looking at these for forever.”

“I told you: I’m fine without an engagement ring, baby,” you coo. Your arms come to wrap around his own, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I know,” he groans. “But I wanted to do it properly. With a ring. On one knee. All that traditional sappy stuff.”

“Hey, I liked how you proposed,” you pout. “It was romantic.”

“We were in the shower, babe. I was like…2 seconds away from shoving my dick in you,” you fiancé mumbles the last part.

You laugh at that, softly clutching his arm before a certain ring catches your eye.

“Kook,” you gasp, pointing your finger at the gem. “Look at that one.”

Before he has time to respond, you’re already pulling him toward the ring. You point at it through the glass, gasping in awe at its beauty.

The ring represents your relationship with Jungkook perfectly. A small, plain band with a giant emerald-cut diamond paced at the center. It doesn’t have any of that extra stuff to it. Just a classic diamond on a classic band: a timeless ring that incorporates a little bit of you and a little bit of him.

“Are you looking to buy?” The clerk on the other side of the case asks.

Jungkook looks down to you, asking you with his eyes if you’re sure this is the one. You simply nod your head, a smile forming on your lips.

“Can we try it on?” He asks the clerk.

“Of course!”

The man unlocks the case, gently pulling the ring out onto the table.

“It’s a 4.20 carat,” he starts, pulling the diamond from the velvet floor it was ground to. “It comes in a range of 2 carat to 5 carat in case this one is a little high, or a little low for your intentions. Feel free to try it on and see what you think.”

Jungkook gently handles the diamond, putting his other hand out asking for your own. You place your fingertips on his, and your fiancé slides the diamond on your ring finger slowly.

He observes the ring on your hand. It’s a perfect look. Everything he was looking for and everything you wanted — a perfect mixture of the two of you in one object.

Jungkook nods, a small chuckle falling out of his lips when you shimmy the diamond around, catching the light as the diamond reflects it.

“Do I look like your fiancé?” You ask, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Fuck, yeah you do,” he laughs. “It’s perfect, Y/n.” Jungkook let’s go of your hand, instead choosing to hold your ring finger, examining it before he turns to the clerk. “We’ll take it.”

“Congratulations!” He exclaims. “Would you like this size? We can talk prices over here. Are you paying, sir?”

“We both—” you start. But Jungkook is quick to interrupt.

“I am, yes,” he says.

“Kook,” you scold him in a whisper. This ring is set at 65,000 dollars. There’s no way you’re letting him take care of this on his own.

“It’s alright,” he smiles down at you. “This was how it was supposed to go anyways. I buy the ring, you have no idea, then I propose, then you’re like: ‘Omg Kook! I can’t believe you chose such a beautiful amazing ring! You’re my hero!’,” he changes his voice to what you’d guess is a mocking of yours.

“Shut up,” you laugh at his interpretation.

“Seriously babe, I got it,” he kisses your forehead. “You’re marrying the CEO of the biggest software company in Korea. I got the extra cash.”

“Prick,” you pinch him. “Go talk sales. I’m gonna look around.”

Jungkook nods, letting you detach yourself from him as he follows the clerk behind the counter and into one of the rooms.

A very long a boring conversation goes on with the clerk for a while. Pamphlets and ordering arrangements, ring cases and polishes are given to Jungkook to choose from. He’s confident enough to make final decisions on it all. You already said yes, so he’s content in knowing that you’d definitely say yes when he does it all over again.

He’s inserted his blackcard into the machine when he hears sudden gasps and a yell for help from one of the employees outside of the room. 

“Oh no. A robbery?” The clerk looks out the door. He shakes his head in disappointment until someone shouts ‘call an ambulance’. 

Both the men are out of their seats and making their way to the main room in haste, eager to see what could be going wrong.

Jungkook looks for your face, and a panic settles in his stomach when he can’t find you. Quickly, he paces to the crowd, pushing through the people until he’s met face to face with yours on the ground, unconscious.

There’s blood leaking from your nostrils and one of your ears, the liquid dashing across your face as it continues to leak out of your body.

This can’t be happening. No way. Nooo way. You were just here, clutching onto his arm and laughing with him. What wen’t wrong?

“Get out!” He nearly screams at the people to move. The crowd moves, recognizing him as the man that was just with you a few minutes ago. Jungkook crouches next to you, placing a hand under your neck and another on your pulse.

“Y-Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” He asks.

Luckily, your heartbeat is there, but it’s very weak. Confusion and fearful adrenaline pumps through his veins when you don’t answer, just the dead weight of your head lulling while he gently holds it in his hand.

Before he can do anything else, there’s a paramedic crouching on the other side of you.

“Don’t worry,” she assures him. “We got her.”

There’s little time for him to respond, because two other paramedics push him out of the way, lifting your body as if it had no weight onto a movable bed. He follows after you and panics by your side until you’ve finally awoken in room 456 of the nearest hospital.

__________________

“Jungkook,” you whisper to him. It’s dark in your room. The sun has set and the lights were turned off long ago when Nurse Sandy brought in the projector for you two to use. You want to say your tacos were finished nearly two hours ago.

Now, your boyfriend rests, cuddled to your side on your small hospital bed, arms wrapped around you and head placed on your chest.

You two have been at it, watching “Way of the House Husband” since this afternoon. You’re almost certain he’s fallen asleep a few times, this being one of them.

“Love,” you gently shake him.

Jungkook stirs, his eyebrows crinkling and his hand clutching yours a little tighter.

“You have to wake up, Kook,” you kiss his head. “You’re not supposed to be here past 12.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin. “I want to sleep next to you.”

“I want that, too,” you sigh. “But you know we can’t. I have treatment at 5am.”

At that, Jungkook sits up sleepily, crossing his legs on the spot he was laying. “They’re too harsh on you,” he says.

“What would you know, Dr. Jeon?” you laugh, poking his chest.

“5am is too early for chemicals and medicine and radiation and—”

“It’s okay,” you stop him. “I asked for that time slot, anyways. Get’s it done and over with so I can leave the rest of the day to spend with you.”

Jungkook smiles at that, but there’s a certain pang in his heart he doesn’t understand why he feels. His eye catches sight of your engagement ring on your finger, gulping at the memory as he holds it in his hand.

“Y/n,” he whispers your name, moving his thumb over your ring finger.

“Hm,” you hum.

“Do you think,” he starts. But the words are hard to get out. He doesn’t like flaunting his insecurities like this to you, especially about this matter. He should be strong, should be unwavering. But he can’t help it. “Do you think we’ll be able to live together again? To go back to it all. Like how it was before.”

You gulp at his words. You were worried about this question. Mainly because you don’t know the answer yourself. It’s something that pushes you forward everyday, something that gets you though the pain. Going back to your old life, marrying your best friend, starting a family and living life together. It’s everything you need to imagine to push yourself harder. To get better.

But recently, you haven’t been showing any progress. Your sickness is getting worse, and it’s something you refuse to tell Jungkook. Something that you’re hiding from him in hopes that if you keep it low, it will eventually smoothen out on its own. You’re just impatiently waiting for the day it does.

“I don’t know,” you candor. “But it’s all I think about. Memories of us before all this play in my mind constantly. I imagine our future all the time,” you squeeze his hand. “The both of us healthy and back to life.”

“I imagine it, too,” he sends a soft laugh. “I miss you, Y/n.”

There’s a lump in your throat at his confession.

It’s hard to live like this. So unbelievably hard.

Yes, you’re sick. And yes, it’s painful to go through the treatment process. But all of that is second to the pain your feel when you realize what you’ve done to him and all you s put him through.

You’re thankful your fiancé has made it nearly everyday to come to you while you stay cooped up in here. But you can’t help but feel selfish about it all. There have been times when you almost called off your relationship, the pain too much to imagine if he were to watch you pass or to watch you deteriorate until you do. How you know it would destroy him, how you know it already is.

It’s painful to see him clutch onto hope, to look at you as if it’s the last time he ever will. Though he thinks you cannot see it, you can. That look he gives you every once in a while, taking in your face, memorizing it when he thinks you’re not looking. It’s so hard to watch him go through all of this. He shouldn’t have to.

But Jungkook is relentless. He’s scared out of his wits about the possibilities of the future. But he knows you are, too. And he can’t leave you alone in your fear. He can’t abandon his love just because some pesky illness decided to create a little bump in the road.

“We should get married,” you confess.

“We are getting married,” Jungkook says.

“No, now. We should get married now, Jungkook,” you squeeze his hand again. This time, Jungkook looks at you differently. The soft glow of the moonlight shows your features to him, caressing your face with the light.

“I thought you wanted to wait until you got better,” he recalls.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, Kook. It’s been two years,” you gulp. “I want you as my husband.”

There’s a quiver in your lip when you utter the last sentence. The tears flood your eyes, and Jungkook is quick to pull you into his embrace.

“I want to be your wife, Jungkook,” you cry into his chest. “Before it’s too late.”

“No,” he sternly holds your shoulder. “Don’t say that, Y/n.”

“I’m scared,” you confess in a mutter.

Jungkook feels a soft drop from his own eye fall down his cheek. Fuck, if he wasn’t just as scared as you are. He’s terrified. But to hear you say it, he wants to protect you. He’d gladly take more fear, more terror and fright, if it meant you felt safe. If it meant you felt like everything was going to be okay.

“I know, baby,” he kisses your scalp. “But I’ve got you.”

__________________

“Ms. Y/l/n,” the doctor walks in.

Your mother is by your side, sitting on the chair. Jungkook is on the other, clutching your hand in his own at the sound of the doctor’s voice.

The doctor looks over at your mom, and then to Jungkook.

“Excuse me,” he starts, gently smiling at your fiancé. “This conversation has to be confined to family members. Please understand. It’s just conduct of the hospital.”

You gulp, looking up at Jungkook with a fear in your eyes. He gently smiles at you, though. Telling you it’s going to be okay, even without him there.

“I’ll be right out side,” he kisses your head. “Not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” you let out a shaky breath. Jungkook lets go of your hand, making his way out of the room. Your hand feels cold now that he’s gone, and you find yourself staring at the way he anxiously runs his hands through his hair when he exists the room.

He stands awkwardly as he waits for the conversation to be over. It’s been almost an hour of him pacing and sitting, and looking on his phone as thoughts consume his mind.

Everything happened so fast and so unexpectedly. What was just a happy day, the day you choose what form his promise would represent in a ring, turned unto a night full of fear. Not in a million years did he think the next few hours would be spent pacing, just as he is now, outside of a hospital room.

The door to your room opens, and the doctor steps out. The man gives Jungkook a tense smile before motioning his hand toward the room, telling him it’s okay to enter. Jungkook takes a deep breath, sitting up from his spot and appearing in the doorway.

He watches you from the door. Your mother has you in her embrace, her eyes closed as she holds you tight. He’s unable to make out her expression.

You’re muttering something to her, and she opens her eyes to meet with his. Your mom send a small smile his way until she’s back on you, telling you that he’s waiting for you.

You clear your throat, wiping at your face before you take a deep breath. You tell your mom it’s okay to let him in, and your mother nods at Jungkook, telling him he’s welcome.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

Your eyes are red at the corners, and you lips are puffy in the way they always are when you cry. He feels a pang in his heart at your face. He’s never seen you in a state like this. It tempts him to let his own emotions flow, but this is not his time. You’re hurt, and he needs to be there for you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips. “I’m just gonna have to stay here for a bit.”

Jungkook gulps at your words, trying to shoot the fear down.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I’m just a little sick, is all,” you grab his hand, playing with his fingers. “I’ll be alright.”

“H-how sick?” he dares to ask. It’s a small question, but one that felt so heavy to say aloud.

“Sick enough to say that this room might be my home for a little while.”

__________________

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Nurse Sandy shakes her head. “But you have been cleared.”

“Really?!” you exclaim, nearly hopping out of your hospital bed. The IV in your arm prevents you from leaping into the woman’s arms, and you’re stuck to squealing on your mattress.

“Just for two months,” she says. “And you still have to carry your oxygen tank and do your treatments in the morning and make sure that you’re coming in for check-ups.”

“I will! I promise I will—oh my god,” you gasp. Your hands come to cover your mouth as you think about what these next two months hold for you. “How am I going to tell Jungkook?”

“Maybe you can start by meeting him at home?” Nurse Sandy suggests. “Make it a little surprise.”

“That’s perfect!” you say, taking the IV out of your arm and tearing the sheets off your body. “Oh god, I’m so excited. Do you have a change of clothes?”

“Of course,” she laughs.

Nurse Sandy turns away, probably going to where the spare clothes are. Meanwhile, you’re left alone in your room, a racing heart and a mind imagining just how you’re going to surprise your fiancé. You know you’re still not doing well, but you’ve asked the doctor, surgeons, and nurses if you could just have a month or two to get married. Just a month or two to be outside of here while you tie the knot with your best friend. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d get any approval at all. You’ve already started planning a hospital wedding. But today’s news shocked you. You’re beyond ecstatic. You don’t even know where to begin.

“Put these on and meet me downstairs. We’ve got a schedule for you and an entire two months of supplies for you to take home. Plus an on-call personal nurse you can call at any time you need one at home,” Nurse Sandy says. She hands you a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that feel way too thin and large to keep any warmth in. But you’re happy to take them and get out of this stupid hospital gown for once.

“Okay,” you beam.

Nurse Sandy makes her way out, but you stop her before she has the chance to close the door.

“Nurse Sandy?” you call.

“Yes?” she stops, looking back at you from the doorway.

“Thank you,”

She gives you a smile, happy to see you cheer up.

“Of course,” she nods. “Next time I’ll see you, you’ll be Mrs. Jeon.”

You blush at the title.

“Hell yeah, I will.”

__________________

You feel the nerves shoot through your system when the hospital’s driver arrives at your apartment complex. It’s been two years since you’ve ventured in here. You wonder how much your home has changed. You wonder how Jungkook has been living in it all by himself.

It’s during the daytime, so Jungkook has probably left for work already. You feel excitement thinking about him again. You can’t wait to see his reaction.

The driver stops in front of the entrance, telling you that you’ve reached your destination. He comes around, pulling the door open for you and helping you pull out your oxygen tank.

“I’ll get the stuff in the back,” he says. You nod to him, your thumb harshly smoothing over the key fob Jungkook gave you about five years ago to his apartment.

With shaky hands, you press it to the inner door to the complex, and you sigh in relief when a positive beeping noise and the sound of doors unlocking rings in your ears. You press the handicapped button to the door for the driver, who carries a few extra oxygen tanks and bags of prescription medicines and other things you may need during your much needed time with your fiancé.

The driver thanks you, and you reply back to him before showing him the way to the elevator.

It’s a long ride up. 38 floors of apartments make the wait in the elevator all the more anticipating. You can’t wait to smell home again.

“It’s this one,” you say, nodding to room 3860 at the end of the hallway. Jungkook has a corner apartment, which mean’s it’s the biggest on the floor. You press the key fob to the lock, and it flashes a green light at you, telling you it’s been accepted.

The smell of home engulfs you. It’s just as you left it — everything organized and clean, the furniture and floors clear of clutter. There’s personal items on a few of the standing drawers, the ones you and Jungkook picked out together on vacations. You almost cry at the nostalgia. It’s hard to come here when it used to be so second nature to you.

You place your keys on your designated spot on the key holder on the wall. It’s right next to your fiancé’s name, and you smile thinking about him seeing your keys on your holder once again.

“You can just set them in this closet,” you point to the one near the door. It’s your’s and Jungkook’s coat closet. But given it’s late spring, you guess it hasn’t been put to much use lately.

The man leaves and makes his way out, telling you to be careful. You nod and tell him to thank Nurse Sandy one more time, to which he laughs and agrees.

The rest of the evening is spent exploring your home. It’s like you’re walking into one of your friend’s parents bedrooms when you were young. It feels like it’s wrong, feels weird because you’ve never explored that part of your friend’s home before. But there’s a familiarity to it anyways.

You sit on his side of the bed in your shared bedroom. You laugh because it appears as if he hasn’t touched your side at all. It’s made and the pillows are organized perfectly. The sheets are tucked in and the bedding is smoothed out as he’s been keeping it neat since the day you last ventured in here.

His side of the bed is unmade. The sheets are pulled from when he got up this morning, and the decorative pillows for his side are scattered on the floor.  

You take it all in, breathing in the smell of him that overpowers your bedroom. You miss this—waking up to hold him and going to sleep cuddled together. You wonder how he’s been going to sleep these days.

Your body starts to feel tired when you close your eyes, and Jungkook’s scent does nothing to help your weak body from falling into the depths of sleep. The bed has always been so comfortable, especially Jungkook’s side. It’s warm and curves into your body as you lay against the sheets. The smell of him wafting into your nostrils as you lay your head on his pillow.

It wasn’t you intention to fall asleep. No, you wanted to bake something sweet for him, put up some decorations or do something to make it special. But Nurse Sandy warned you about the effects of not being on IV constantly. Your body isn’t getting everything it needs to stay awake for long periods of time. But you were given a long list of to-do’s in order to keep your energy up. For right now, though, you forgo the list until you’re able to look it over and figure it all out with your fiancé.

__________________

Jungkook’s exhausted. He’s beat and he totally would have gone straight to you after work had he not been feeling completely gross. The plan is still to see you. But right now, he needs a shower.

His body is aching when he walks down the hallway to the 38th floor. All day he spent sitting in his desk, listening to sales pitches and hiring a few more people who he honestly could care less about. Needless to say, he needs a hot shower, a cup of coffee, and a dose of you in order to make his day feel right.

He takes a deep breath when he presses the key fob against the door. The briefcase in his hand swings when he pushes it open, immediately setting it down in the dip in the doorway. He almost closes his eyes when he enters his apartment, the darkness of the home from the set sun doing nothing to hide his need for sleep. But his heart leaps out of his chest when he sees a pair of familiar grey sneakers tucked in the corner of the entryway. His eyebrows knot together at the sight, his heart beating rapidly in his chest when he looks up to the key holder on the wall. There they are — your keys, placed simply on the hook with your name on it.

“Y/n?” he whispers. There’s a panic in his heart when he turns on the light. Why were you here? Is everything okay?

“Y/n?” he shouts. But there’s no answer.

Jungkook quickly rips off his jacket, his shoes messily thrown in the entry way as he runs into the kitchen. He shouts your name again, but there’s no answer.

Jungkook’s chest heaves, the silence and the lack of you anywhere makes his brain think of the worst possible outcome. Did you come here against the will of the doctor? Did you give up? Did you come here to greet him and it all go wrong? Did you collapse? Are you okay?

Jungkook pants heavily as he rips open the door to his bedroom. The lights are off and the lack of sunlight coming through his window makes things hard to make out. However, he quickly turns on the light, his lungs relaxing immediately when he sees your body softly tucked into his sheets.

“Y/n, baby,” he calls out your name softly. Jungkook kneels by his side of the bed, gently moving your tank in the process. He shakes you gently, and you stir at the feeling of his touch.

“Kook?” you groggily moan. Your eyes open in sight of him, a wave of disappointment flooding through you. “Fuck—I wasn’t supposed to fall asleep.”

“Are you okay? What’s going on? Why are you here?” he helps you sit up, his own body sitting next to your legs on the mattress.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you groan, your head falling into your palms.

“What surprise?” he tucks a chunk of your hair behind your ear. Your skin is hot, and he wonders if he should get the thermometer or take you right back to the hospital.

“Nurse Sandy let me go,” you explain.

“What?!” he gasps. “Why would she do that?”

“No,” you chuckle at his misunderstanding. “She let me go for two months. To be with you. To get married.”

“O-Oh,” he gulps. He can’t help the pulse in his heart that leaps at your words.

Fuck, is this a dream? Never in a million years did he think he’d get the chance to have you during your treatment. Hell, they’ve kept you under extremely strict rules for the past two years.

“I wanted to make it a surprise,” you whine. “But I came home and I smelled you and I just—I passed out. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling at you while you groan in your mistake. He honestly is still processing it all. He wants to ask you to pinch him, to make sure this is actually happening before he wakes up from his dream and becomes upset.

“It’s okay, my love,” he kisses your forehead. “I’m honestly a little struck right now. Is this really happening?”

You nod your head, a content smile showing on your face as you speak. “I was just as shocked as you are. I mean, I’ve been asking for just a week or two to be out of there so that we can get married. But they’ve just given me the same answer every time, telling me that they’ll ‘see’ or that they’re not sure that it’s gonna be a possibility,” you hold his hand. “But when Nurse Sandy told me two whole months was approved…I knew I had to make it a surprise. It kinda backfired on me, though. Nurse Sandy told me I was going to be much more fatigued off IV, but I kinda took her words for granted. I was just so excited.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, adjusting the clear tube across your cheeks. “We’ll take it slow.”

Jungkook holds your cheek, and you lean against at the feeling of his touch on your skin. 

You feel a little emotional. None of this was supposed to happen. Your sickness, the wait to get married, the pause in life. Everything was supposed to be normal, but now you find it all to be complicated and oh-so painful. You shouldn’t have to live like this. He shouldn’t have to live like this.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers. Jungkook’s thumb wipes at the tear that dares to fall from your eye. You hold his hand to your cheek, keeping his touch against you.

“We were so regular,” you laugh. “Just two normal people,” a few more tears stream from your eyes, and Jungkook pulls you into his chest, shielding you from the pain. “But now this happened. And you have to go to bed alone every night. You have to come home to emptiness. Have to make trips just to see me. To deal with all my bad days; days when I can barely talk to you because it hurts.”

“Stop it, Y/n,” he whispers into your hair. “I’d do it for the rest of my life if it means I still get to have you.”

“It shouldn’t have to be this way,” you sob. Jungkook rocks you in his hold, his arms tightening around your gentle body as you cry.

“But it is,” he says. “This is life. It’s just a bump in the road. A big bump, but thank god I’ve got a bunch of different cars to test out which one makes it over first.”

You laugh at his comment. You want to stab his ego a little, but his comment warms you to the extent to where you don’t think you have it in you to do so. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, Y/n,” he simmers. “In sickness and in health, no?”

“Till death do us part.”

__________________

“It’s terminal,” the doctor says.

He watches your mom shake her head, her pearl earrings whipping against her cheeks at his words.

“It can’t be,” she says. “She’s never had something like this in her life! We don’t even have a genetic history—”

“It happens to the best of us, unfortunately,” he interrupts her. You’re sure he hears things like this from mother’s all the time. But you don’t care. It’s true. You’ve been living your life healthy for as long as you remembered. You exercise, eat healthy foods, train your brain…you even have an air purifier in every room of your home. How can this happen?

“Your sickness is in it’s second stage. It’s a 50/50 chance it will get worse or better within the next few months. But regardless, I will just lay the facts out to you. The illness will more than likely be the cause of your death. However, given that it is in its second stage, we are able to slow it down and give you a few extra years,” the doctor explains. “We can put you on the transplant list, but unfortunately, since you are in the second stage, it puts you down as less of a priority compared to those who have a worse illness or who need it immediately.”

Your mother scoffs, her eyes wallowing with tears at the doctors information.

Meanwhile, all you can think about is Jungkook. How the hell are you going to tell him? Would it even be fair to tell him? You don’t want him to be any more worried than he already is. Not to mention how it would absolutely kill you if he were to look at you everyday not knowing if it would be the last.

The doctor’s words are drowned out as you think of how you want to go about this. There’s scenarios playing out in your head. The thought of dying does not even matter to you. All you can think about is how you’re going to protect your love from reality.

“Can we not tell anyone?” you ask your mother quietly.

“What?!” she exclaims. “Y/n, we need to raise awareness or something,” she holds your hand. “Don’t you want to at least tell Jungkook?”

“No,” you say sternly. “I can’t do that to him. I love him too much to destroy him like that.”

“Well,” your mom lets out a shaky breath. A part of you feels bad that you couldn’t shield her from it, either. But someone has to know. And you’re strict on only allowing her to. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll play along.”

A small tear falls from your eye, and your mother wipes them off your cheeks. She coos you, telling you that it’s okay. But her words mean nothing. How is this okay when you will be gone quicker than you thought you would be? When your time with Jungkook has been given a limit?

“Just don’t tell him, alright?” you cry. “Don’t destroy him like this.”

The doctor clears his throat, telling him he is going to leave the room. He asks you if it’s okay to let your fiancé in, and you nod, quickly wiping your tears.

Jungkook makes his way in the door way, his chest tightening at the sight of your mom holding you tight.

“Is everything okay?” he asks you, gently sitting at the end of the bed.

Your eyes are red at the corners, and you lips are puffy in the way they always are when you cry. He feels a pang in his heart at your face. He’s never seen you in a state like this. It tempts him to let his own emotions flow, but this is not his time. You’re hurt, and he needs to be there for you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

__________________

Your wedding was beautiful.

It was everything you could want and more. Family and friends, the venue you wanted, the color scheme perfect for the summertime. It wasn’t too hot, either. Perfect weather for early August.

Originally, neither of you wanted a summer wedding. But you had to make do with the time you had, and it turned out to be everything you weren’t expecting, in all the right ways.

You even got to walk down the aisle without your tank. Just your face and you in your dress, walking to your man with the biggest smile. Yes, it was a tough walk. But the minute Jungkook took your hand, you felt strength.

You married Jungkook. It was the most rewarding feeling to have him as yours. To slip on his ring and him slip on yours. It felt right. You felt at peace. For the first time in two years, you didn’t think about your diagnosis. Your mind and heart was full of you and him, and that is all.

Your first dance with him as his wife was filled with emotion. Yes, you had to take it slow—the effects of your sickness made it hard to do anything exuberant. But Jungkook let you rest your head on his shoulder. He held your hand and your waist, guiding you through it all as your husband. He held you as the song played in your ears, memories of graduating college, your first date, the first word you spoke to him, the day he asked you to move in with him, the day he proposed. Everything came to you, and you held him tightly as he danced with you in the memories.

The ride home was filled with tiredness. Truthfully, all you had planned was to eat tacos and watch Netflix. But as you sat next to your husband on the ride home, you realized you wanted to do more. Memories of when you two used to be spicy, when you used to have sex nearly everyday, come back to you. How much that has changed. The two of you have become nearly entirely different people. But you want to try tonight. You want to feel him again, no matter the strain. No matter what might happen. You want to hold your husband.

“I feel wrong doing this,” Jungkook rambles below you. You’re sitting on his lap, both of you in pajamas as some anime show plays in the background. “You sure you can breathe okay? Is this too much?”

“Jungkook,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “We’ve only been kissing for two minutes.”

“I know, but I—”

“If you don’t feel right, then we don’t have to,” you cut him off.

“No—I. That’s not what I meant,” he re-quips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not, Kook,” you stop. A big part of you feels embarrassed. Has this really become an entirely new experience? You’re frustrated and you feel a blush on your cheeks for even trying. Maybe he doesn’t want this. “Look, if you don’t want to have sex with me, that’s fine. But tell me now, because I’m not about to put my all into it if you’re just going to be worried the whole time.”

“Y/n,” he groans. Your husband runs his hand through his hair. Fuck, if he didn’t want to have sex with you. It’s be two years since he felt you like that. He misses holding you, feeling you around him as he makes love to you. But hell, he’s worried out of his wits. You can’t breathe like you used to. Not to mention the fragility of your body. What if he hurts you? He can’t imagine how bad he’d feel.

You let out a disappointed sigh. His expression telling you that he’s still considering it.

You begin to hop off his lap when his hands grip your hips, forcing you to stay.

“Y-You,” he starts, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin of your hips. “You have to tell me if it’s too much. I’m being serious, Y/n. I’m worried and nothing is going to change that. But I want you...I miss you so much.”

You nod your head, a breath of relief flooding your lungs when he comes to kiss you again.

He’s gentle with his kisses, although much more sure than what it was just a few minutes ago. He holds your waist while his body gently falls forward. Your back hits the softness of the mattress, Jungkook’s body falling between your legs. You open them, inviting him in. 

He presses soft kisses on your cheek, trailing them down to your neck where he buries his head in the crevice of your skin. Hot hands push up your body. They take your shirt with it, his fingertips gently cascading over the swell of your breasts. You lift your chest up, allowing him to toss the fabric up over your head and onto the floor.

Jungkook’s breath stops in his chest. It’s been a long while since he’s seen you naked like this in front of him. Yes, he’s seen you naked countless times before, but he’s never seen you this thin. He’s never seen your skin so rough and patchy before. Thinking of all your hard times in the hospital, all the pain you went through, he kisses your skin with love as he admires you. 

Nothing could take away from how you make him feel. Not the redness of your irritated skin, not your ribs that poke out a little from the lack of nutrients, not the clear tubs that ties just below your chin and falls on your clavicle. No, you’re still you, and he holds you with care remembering just how much you’ve suffered. He wants to make you forget all of it.

Your cold hands startle him when they begin to push his own shirt up. Jungkook smiles down at you, giving you a kiss before he takes it off. Your eyes memorize his body, feeling his skin just as it was the last time you touched him like this. You sigh at the memories, how every one of them failed to recall just how it felt to touch him in real life. Nothing can compare to actually feeling him. Nothing can do justice to the velvet of his skin on your fingertips.

Jungkook gently leans himself back on his calves, sitting more upright as his fingers hook around the band of your pajama pants. He looks at you with permission, and you nod, giving it to him. 

The man slowly allows them to fall off your body, his eyes eating you up as you shiver from the cold.

He’s quick to warm you, though. After sliding off his own pants, he’s on top of you again, his arms holding you to his chest as he kisses the sweet spot on your neck.

“J-Jungkook,” you moan. Your husband simply hums at your arousal, his hips softly grinding onto yours when you wrap your legs around his hips. He still has his boxers on, the length of his cock straining against the fabric. It’s been too long since he’s felt you. Been too long since he’s made love to you. His dick is begging him to feel you again. 

“I need you,” you cry beneath him. 

Jungkook lifts his head from your neck, his forehead gently falling on yours while his lips cascade over your own. Your hands come to his jaw, holding him to your face as he closes his eyes. 

He’s memorizing your touch, memorizing how you feel and how you hold him. He’s memorizing the sound of your breath, low long you take between each one to inhale and exhale. The sound of your heartbeat and the sound of your fingers sliding over his skin. He takes you in as his heart wrenches in his chest.

Jungkook opens his eyes to be met with yours. They’re red around the edges and water begs to fall from your eyelids, but he kisses your cheek in attempt to tell you that he needs you, too.

He shimmy’s off his boxers, his cock springing free against his lower abdomen as he does so. It’s quick, and he’s back to your side the minute the fabric falls on the ground.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips. “So much.”

You bite your lip, struggling to keep the tears in. He looks at you with so much love, so much adoration. You remind yourself that he is your husband, and a tear falls from your eye.

“Don’t cry,” he gulps. “I’ve got you.”

You nod against the palm that holds your jaw. He kisses your tear before he lines himself up with your entrance. You lock your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you as he slides himself in.

A gasp leaves your lips as he enters you. Although he’s slow, it’s been a long while since you felt the length of him. Your muscles aren’t like how they used to be, and you find it somewhat painful, even though he’s being gentle.

“Are you okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” he pants in worry. You feel so good, so fucking tight, but that gasp you let out washed away any feeling he had down there for a second.

“Hurts a little, but I’ll be okay,” you smile. “J-Just—slow.”

Jungkook nods, the knob in this throat bobbing when he takes the base of his cock and guides it into you. He’s slow, just like you asked, and the slick of your arousal does a lot to make the second pump go much smoother.

“I-Is this a good pace?” he asks you once he delivers the fourth pump into you.

You sigh, your eyes closing as your head falls back. “Yes,” you pant. This is what you missed. You forgot how good it felt to have him inside you like this.

Jungkook nods before towering back over you. His forearms rest near your head as your legs wrap around his waist. He’s not harsh with you, just a medium pace and gentle thrusts in and out. The old him would have complained, would have needed something faster and more intense in order to get off. But the times have changed. It’s been so long, he honestly feels he could cum right now despite the low intensity. 

Jungkook rests his cheek against yours, his head leaning against your skin as he makes love to you. He feels overwhelmed, and his heart races at the thought of you. 

A tear falls from his eye when you run your hands through his hair, the hope in his heart nowhere to be seen when he feels the gentleness of your touch rake through his body. He sobs above you, that wall broken when you kiss his shoulder.

“Jungkook, baby,” you coo. “What’s wrong?”

Jungkook shakes his head, his arms closing in on your figure while his head buries itself in your neck. He thinks about you, about the first time he felt your touch, wondering if this is the last time he ever will. He lets the tears drop as his hand comes to hold the back of your head, the other sliding underneath your neck. He holds you close against his body, squeezing you tight in case you might escape if he didn’t hold you like this. 

The feeling of his dick in you does little as his heart breaks little by little at the thought of the worst. At the thought of this being the last time.

“I can’t lose you,” he croaks, his voice muffled between your skin and the sheets. “I love you too much to let you go.”

Your lips press together, that lump in your throat begging to rise.

“Come here,” you ask him softly. Jungkook slowly raises his head, his nose pressing against yours per your request.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you press a hand to his heart. “I’m gonna be here.”

Jungkook’s tears flow onto your face, and he can’t help but let out another whimper at the message you tell him. He wants to pretend you didn’t just say that. He wants to pretend you told him that you’re all better, that you’re not sick anymore. But he can’t help but clutch the hand that touches the skin over his heart.

“Y/n,” he breathes, his lips red and wet from all the emotion. “Let me see you, just for a little while.”

He refers to your tube, asking if he can take it off.

You nod to him, and Jungkook gently takes it off your face. The choked sob he lets loose at the sight of you breaks your heart. His lip quivers and his nose starts to run as he looks at you with pain in his eyes. He looks at you, memorizing you again and again. He looks at you as his wife, who has been there for him through everything, who has loved him through every stage of his life. He holds your cheeks, his head resting against your forehead as he rocks into you.

“I’ve got you,” you hold him.

Jungkook exhales, his nose rubbing against yours when you tell him so.

“I love you, Jungkook,” you promise. “You’re going to be okay.”

__________________

You passed in the spring.

The season took you in all its blossoms, engulfing your death with new life.

There were cherry blossoms at your funeral.

Nothing but trees and flowers engulfing the outdoors as he stood at the back of the ceremony. Nurse Sandy was there. He hated the way she looked at him as if she knew he would never be the same. 

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. Not when you couldn’t flash him a smile. Not when you wouldn’t wrap him in your warmth and tell him you love him. He couldn’t look at you with the hope he harbored throughout the entirety of your sickness. It was no longer here. You were no longer here. 

He took a trip not too long after. The new life of spring was too much for him to handle.

You were no longer there with him. That house he spent two years building in hope that you would one day move into it with him as his wife was too silent for him to stay in.

Every inch of him yearned for you. He went through every grieving stage with the roughest of emotions. Clutching the necklace that held a small amount of your ashes around his neck, his heart suffering in agony, his mind playing memories of you over and over and over again.

His pain went over what his body could handle, causing him to turn into someone he didn’t know.

He stayed in upper Russia for a while, embracing the cold. Then moved to Aruba in search for the summer.

Only on your birthday three years later did he return home.

He could almost smell you off the plane, the familiarity of home raking through his lungs violently.

The place he once had made for you has now been occupied by a family in their mid 40s — a couple with two children and a grandmother living together. He smiles, glad that the house has been to some use.

He’s been paying rent on his apartment since he left. You’re still in there, all your belongings and all of your scent still lives within the comfort of his old home. Everything you organized — from the way you folded the laundry to the way you placed the trinkets on your desk — was all still there.

Your smell is gone when he enters his home. It’s dusty and dark. All but welcoming when he enters. There’s a spot with your name on the key holder plastered against the wall, and he tries his best to ignore the way your keys hang there when he places his keys in his own slot.

He’s made plans to sell the apartment by the time of his next trip. You’re not here anymore, and he’s starting to find it difficult to pay rent when he’s spending so much on living as a non-citizen in another country.

He unfolds the cardboard moving boxes in his kitchen, using the masking tape to seal the ends before he starts going through it all.

He starts with the kitchen first.

He sifts through all the shelves and cabinets, placing spices and expired noodles and sugar and flour in the trash. He cleans the sink and counters before he moves onto the dinnerware. The box beside him labeled “Jungkook and Y/n” stares at him with grief when his hands touch the delicate wood of your shared cabinet.

The fine china dinnerware you got as a wedding gift, the “Spider-Man” “Spider-Woman” mugs, the shot glasses with “bride” and “groom”,  your favorite spoon he never understood why it was your favorite when it looked only slightly different than the rest, all go into the box.

The living room is next.

Blankets and cup holders and remotes all go into a different box. He’s got movers taking the couches and coffee table tomorrow, so he tries to clean them off the best he can before he sells them in an auction. Pictures of you and him scatter the walls, small trinkets and souvenirs he got with you or gave you as a gift all go into the box.

His fingers tremble when he realizes what is next: the bedroom. You two shared it, but from what he remembers, you completely took it over. Finishing touches and decorations and picture frames. All of it you insisted would add “hominess” to his rather plain apartment. And he finds that you’re correct when he enters it and turns on the lights.

It’s dusty, and the lights flicker a little when he turns them on. But there it is. Your side of the bed hitting him right in the face.

He gently walks over to it, his fingers brushing over the duvet where you used to lay. He imagines you’re still here with him, ready to burst through those doors and tell him that you’re here with tacos and a new Netflix series to watch. He imagines what you’d say, where you’d touch him, how gentle your embrace would be.

When it comes to be too much, he turns away, focusing his attention on your bedside table.

A picture of you and him flashes back at him, and he feels a pulse in his throat when his finger slowly brushes the dust off the glass surrounding your face. You’re in your graduation gown, hair falling over your shoulders as you’re jumping onto his back. Nothing but smiles and happiness on your face. He remembers this day like the back of his hand. University graduation — one of the happiest days of yours and his life’s—before everything happened.

This is how he remembers you. Sweet and healthy. Nothing but confidence and laughs as you slowly took his heart into your hands.

He places it in his own box, choosing to keep it close to him as he travels around the world. There’s a few digital things and a lamp he stores away before he’s opening your drawer.

He expects to find nothing, but instead sees a stack of cards, all a little dusty, wrapped in a blue ribbon.

When he pulls it out, he turns the stack around and sees that they’re all addressed to him.

Jungkook stops his rummaging, a heart beat in his his chest as he sits down on the bed, examining the large stack of envelopes in his hand.

He reads his name in your handwriting, a thumb gently tracing over the ink before it softly unties the blue ribbon holding them together. He stares at the first one labled: “The first: to Jungkook”. He tears the seal. The envelope reveals a small page filled with your writing. He takes a deep breath.

My husband,

Jungkook pauses, the back of his hand coming to his mouth as the heaviness in his heart sinks all the way down to his feet. 

I wondered when a day would come where I could give this to you. But the more life goes on, I’ve realized these words would be of most meaning when I am gone.

I’ve known for a while I would not continue living life with you. My sickness gets worse with every passing minute, and I’ve since found myself on borrowed time. However, I am so beyond thankful.

All I wanted out of life was spend it with you. Being with you has been the best blessing I’ve received since the day I was born. Marrying you was more than I asked for, and I can go on with no regrets knowing that I get to die with your promise to me.

To say I have no sadness is a hard lie to tell. The thing that consumes my mind the most these days is how you will be when I am gone. How you will come home and how you will continue to live.

You have always loved with everything you had. I felt it with every word you spoke, every breath you took, and every touch you gave. I can only hope you will continue to do so as you did for me since the day we met. That you will find it within you to return.

I don’t know how long it’s been since I have passed when you’ve decided to read this. But for all the things I will not have the chance to say during every hard time in your life, during every morning and every evening, during every achievement and every failure, I want to say them to you now. I want you to come back and read this when you need me. When you need what you know I’d say. What you know is true:

I love you.

I love you and will always continue to do so. My body may be gone, but my soul still holds yours. It holds yours with every stage of my life, with every stage we went through. It holds you knowing that you were there holding mine. I’ve come to return your favor. 

Your hope you gave to me I now give to you. 

I know you will strengthen. I know you will live and you will live with everything you have, just like you always did. You’re my Jungkook. My husband. And I can only hope you feel me walking next to you as you continue to live.

I lived loving you, and i died loving you.

I will always love you. No matter what form my soul takes, it will be there to walk next to yours, to hold it and love it until we meet again.

The paper is crumpled in his hand, clutched against his heart and necklace as he screams into the air. The tears follow in transit, curling his body as he holds your words to his heart. He’s hysterical, the dustiness in the room filling his lungs as he sobs on your side of the bed.

Three years of holding it in, three years of pretending you were still here with him, pretending that it was all just a dream, release out of him in a painful wail. He’s remembering you, your voice playing in his head as he reads your letter. He can hear you telling him.

He remembers that morning. The last one before it happened. How you clutched onto his arm, smiling at him as you picked out a ring. He remembers holding you on the rooftop of the hospital, going through every season with you as he protected you from the wind. He remembers how you held him when he made love to you on your wedding night, how you said “I do” at your wedding. He can see your smile, the sound of your laugh. All of it he can feel.

The stack of envelopes nearly falls out of his lap, but in his fit of sobs, he is able to hold them close. He sifts through them, trying to wipe his tears in order to read them. But his heart only shatters to dust when he reads that they’re all addressed to him, one for each year, for each anniversary, until the 70th one. A part of him laughs, unsure if he will even make it another 70 years as a 34 year old.

Regardless, he runs his finger over the one that stares up at him, and he feels himself begin to heal when he reads:

“Our first Anniversary: to my Jungkook.”

__________________

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

안녕하세요, 여러분!

[Translation]: Hello, everyone! 

Hah, this makes me shy lol. Please bare with me. 

Anyways, welcome to the blog!

Recently, I’ve been overcome with this gut feeling that I should finally launch this blog. I’ve been writing for years now, but I’ve always been so shy with social media, expressing personal self, and showcasing writings. So, I never really had the courage to post. 

But, as apart of my new years resolution, I will let it all go and express myself like how I wanted to within the last few years. I am excited, nervous, and slightly razzled by the fact that I’m really going through with this. But I am ready. 

A little about what I intend to post:

This will primarily be a BTS blog. Though I love every member, the majority of my writings are y/n scenarios with Namjoon, Yoongi, or Jungkook. I have writings for everyone; however, i tend to feel more confident with my writings with the prior three boys.

I do write 18+ scenarios, so adults only!! My writings will also always be female x male, not because I am against pairings with other genders, but because that is what I am most used to writing and am more familiar with. Still, if you identify as any other, you are always welcome to read. I intend to keep this space as a strict respectful zone to all people.

Another disclaimer: I do not own BTS or anyone else I choose to incorporate in my writings. I write with them in interest as apart of a fictional story — as a face and personality that is unique to them (in real life and in a story) — but never to disrespect, alter, or manipulate to fit my or others standards. Their respect comes with the respect of anyone else.

Now for formatting, here is how I will organize my writings in post:

Title

[picture heading]

Summary: [2-4 sentences]

Theme/Tags: [EX: Highschool!AU, Non-Idol!AU, Yoongi x best friend’s sister!AU, etc.]

Rating/Disclaimer: [18+/A/Smut/S/Mature/M , Fluff/F, Angst, Romance, etc…]

Word Count: [x,xxx words]

Author’s Note: [me blabbling]

A little about me:

Hi!

You can call me Sae, if you’d like.

I am a double-major, third-year university student! I do take Korean there! It has been just about a year and a half since I started learning it, and I love it to the core. It is really such a beautiful language and culture, and I am so glad I went through with taking it. I could talk about it for hours! 

As for BTS, I have been a fan since I was in 8th grade…so 2015-2016? My first ever bias was Taehyung…ofc lol. However, I have been a Yoongi bias since around 2017-ish. Bias wrecker? I bet you can’t guess…Namjoon and Jungkook. Unfortunately or fortunately (however you view it), BTS was the only group I was able to fully get into and know. I love and listen to other groups like TXT, EXO, ATEEZ, Red Velvet, TWICE, etc. But I never got fully into them to the extent I did BTS.

As for other fics or posts you might see around here, I am a hard-core weeb. So, you might see some anime character’s on here. However, with a recent off-the-bandwagon mishap since entering uni, it has been quite a while since I have even watched a show. I intend to get back into it. We will see where life takes me. 

So, yeah! I hope you like what I end up posting! Feedback is always appreciated. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out! 

Again, I do not tolerate hate, disrespect, or anything malicious on my blog. If I suspect or if it is outwardly posted that someone intends on coming after me or anyone else on this blog, you will be reported, blocked, and otherwise removed from my page. Please remember human decency and practice being kind to others!!

Other than that, happy holidays and happy new year! 휴일 잘 즐기고 새해 복 많이 받으세요!

Omg university superstar is so good 😭😭😭 and that drabble with the kids is so sweet omg i cant help but imagine one of oc's students liking her so much, they claim they'll marry her when they're older (you know like how kids do that to their parent) and kook just getting slightly jealous cuz oc is kook's forever!!

University Superstar Drabble 2

[Summary]: Jungkook is competitive. In fact, he's so competitive that he's come to realize that that side of him doesn't dwindle with anyone. Not even with 5-year-olds. Not even with one of your students, Ju-Won, who claims he is your husband.

[Theme]: UniversitySuperstar!AU, Jock!Jk, LacrossePlayer!JK x TeacherIntern!Y/N, EstablishedRealtionship!AU

[Rating]: Flufffff, 18+ for mentions of the deed, fun competition between a grown man and a child

[Word Count]: 2,070

[A/N]: I may or may not have received butterflies in my tum while writing this.

[Masterlist] [Drabble (3)]

Making out with Jungkook is by far your favorite pastime. He’s so much softer than you anticipated, most especially in the morning. Although his morning breath is terrible and his morning wood pokes you with every given moment, the innocence of his intent is too much to deny. Jungkook is truly hard to resist.

His body glimmers with sleep, sluggish and covered in nothing but a pair of black Calvin’s and the duvet’s sheets. But he finds it within himself to wrap you in his embrace and keep you warm against his skin. A tattooed arm comes to rub at your back, tracing gentle circles along the knots of your spine with his fingertips.

Jungkook hums into your mouth as you kiss him, prompting you to tilt your head just a little further to taste the honey of his mouth. With his permission, he allows you to do so.

His hair is knotty and messy, brown locks sticking up in every which way. But you allow yourself to run your fingers through his soft locks, pulling on them every so often, knowing it gets him feeling a certain way.

He’s pliable when he kisses you like this. Just a pure good boy wanting to feel you love him. Jungkook loves when you hold him; every inch of you makes him melt, feeling like his skin fuses with yours with every touch. The way you touch him fuels him in a way you’d probably never understand.

However, your boyfriend groans in discontent as you pull away from his lips, breaking the kiss.

“I have to go to work,” you chuckle against his cheek, gently pushing against his chest.

He only pushes himself closer, shaking his head 'no' as he comes back to kiss you. Legs intermingle with yours, wrapping around you and forcing you to trap your heat within the sheets.

“Yes,” you giggle, turning your head away from him when he tries to kiss you again.

The pout on his lips almost makes you regret denying him. But it’s 10:25 and you only have 20 minutes to get ready if you want to make it to work on time.

“No,” he croaks, morning voice prevalent. “Stay with me.”

Jungkook buries his nose in your neck, inhaling the smell of your skin. You smell like rain and roses and he can’t get enough. You’re addicting, but even more so when he recognizes his own scent adorning your skin. The reminder of last night is prevalent as he wraps his arms around your back, pulling your chest close to his. You’re in his t-shirt, and he smiles with pride when the mixture of himself and yourself come together as one.

“I can’t, Kook,” you kiss the crown of his head. “I gotta teach these children. They’re in a critical learning stage. Missing a day is not an option.”

“You’re only an intern, though,” he wines. “Why isn’t the actual teacher doing her job?”

“Because I’m the intern,” you laugh. “I am Mrs. Kim’s bitch until I get my teaching certificate.”

“Wrong,” he smiles into your skin, biting it a little afterward. “You’re my bitch.”

The way your interning works is usually a mixed system. Either you teach for the first half of the day, the second half of the day, or together with Mrs. Kim. Today is a second-half-of-the-day type of schedule, and you’re glad you were able to sleep in a little while longer than usual.

Whether intentional or not, Jungkook’s morning wood presses against your core as his legs wrap tighter around your own. You’re not wearing anything besides his t-shirt, so the feeling of his clothed cock against your entrance makes it harder for you to keep your word.

“Talk that up with Mrs.Kim, babe,” you chuckle, pulling him up by the chin just enough to give his forehead a peck. “Now let me go. I have 5 minutes to cover all these hickies and look like we didn’t have 3 rounds of sex last night.”

“My point exactly,” he smirks, letting you out of his embrace. He situates his cock in his boxers with an uncomfortable clearing of the throat. He tries not to look at the wet mark your pussy left on the fabric of them while you move away. Staring down at his unclothed chest, you watch him move his hands away from his boxers and point at you in discussion. “That’s an odd number. Gotta make it 4 or else it’ll be bad luck.”

“Says Who?” You squint, trying to see the logic in even vs. odd numbered sex.

“Says anyone ever,” he raises an eyebrow, an antagonizing smirk forming on his lips. “Not joking.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh, rolling your eyes as you turn from him and make your way into the bathroom. You hear your boyfriend’s laughs as you walk away, trying to hide the smile that dares to make its way onto your face.

You’ve never had to buy green concealer before you met Jungkook. But he’s a sex demon, and he loves to turn you into a human plum at any given moment. Hence, you start your hasty effort in getting ready with it, covering up the multiple spots on your neck that your selected outfit does not hide.

To your surprise, by the time you’re out of the bathroom, Jungkook’s well-dressed and groomed. Gray sweatpants and black t-shirt, your boyfriend admits the most comfortable aura you wish you could surround yourself in all day. It's a bittersweet sight.

“Where are you headed?” You smile, slipping your hands around his waist.

“Gonna drive you to work,” he suggests. A tattooed hand comes up to your cheek, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’ll pick you up. I have nothing going on today besides practice from 11-2.”

“No classes?” you ask, surprised.

“Not on Mondays,” he kisses the bridge of your nose.

“Okay,” you smile, kissing his lips softly before you head out the door.

----

Jungkook walks with you into the school. He claims he wants to say 'hi' to Principal Green, but you know he just wants to spend as much time with you as he can before you’re off teaching. However, when you enter the teacher’s lounge, there’s a screaming kid sitting at the table with a very concerned and slightly pissed-off Aecha.

“Thank God!” Aecha exhales as you walk in. The weight physically lifts off her shoulders at the sight of you.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. You drop your bag near the door before coming over to her and the wailing child.

The student is one of the kids in your class, Ju-Won. At the sound of your voice, the small boy hops out of his chair and nearly jumps into your arms, sobbing into your dress shirt.

“He fell and scraped his knee at recess,” Aecha pinches the skin between her eyes. “We’ve been trying to clean his wounds, but he won’t let any of us besides you do it.”

“Ju-Won,” you frown. “What’s this about?” you softly pat his head, lifting him back down onto the chair. The first aid kit is on the table, stuff scattered everywhere probably from multiple attempts from Aecha trying to help him. You immediately start pulling picking out the supplies you need and organizing them on the table.

Ju-Won sniffs as you take out the disinfectant spray, his hands aggressively wiping at the tears on his face.

“You have to let others besides me help you, Ju-Won,” you explain, laying out the bandages and ointment.

This is typical of Ju-Won. He’s a very shy boy; he actually reminds you of Jungkook in some ways. He’s got that look of goodness in his eyes, a gentle touch with everything he handles, and an aggressive need to be near what he wants. Which just so happens to be you. The boy can’t stand a single day where you don’t come into class and teach. The one day you called off, Mrs. Kim told you Ju-Won was kicking and screaming nearly the entire day because he wanted to see you.

“N-No,” he sobs. You quickly tell him that you’re going to spray the disinfectant, but he continues crying throughout the tingled spray. You tell him he did a good job, but all he cares about is telling you his reasoning. “I only trust Ms. Y/l/n,”

“And why’s that?” you laugh, placing the bandaid on his knee.

“Because I want to marry you one day, Ms. Y/l/n,”

You can hear Aecha spit her coffee into the sink. Several covered coughs fill the air as she tries to quiet down. She hastily rips a napkin from the roll on the counter and wipes at her face. Meanwhile, you can literally feel the wideness of Jungkook’s eyes behind you. All movement from him seems to stop as Ju-Won climbs into your embrace again.

“Ms. Y/l/n, will you marry me?” the small boy asks you innocently, looking up at you with red eyes and a smile with one too many missing teeth. Not a single ounce of previous discomfort is on his features. It’s as if all his pain went away at his proclamation of marriage.

You can’t find it in yourself to say anything as you contain your laughter, but Jungkook definitely does.

“Woah, hey there bud,” he starts, grabbing the small human gently underneath his armpits and lifting him off your body. Jungkook places the boys small feet on the ground, despite his retaliative kicking when Jungkook pulls him away from you. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

An angry Ju-Won turns around and kicks Jungkook’s shin, “She’s my wife!” Ju-Won sticks his tongue out at Jungkook while he rubs at the spot the small man kicked. “You shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook harshly, but not with too much force (because he’s still just a kindergartener), pokes the boy's forehead, causing Ju-Won to stumble back a little bit. “If you’re her husband, what does that make me?”

“The ring bearer,” the boy smirks. You can visibly see Jungkook’s eye twitch, his fist balling up as he faces your “husband”.

Aecha is dying in the background, and honestly, you’re not far from doing the same. Ju-Won’s insistence on being your husband is hilarious, but what’s even more so is the fact that Jungkook is acting like Ju-Won totally isn't a 5-year-old who has no idea what the point of marriage even is about.

“You think tha—” Jungkook starts in rage, but Ju-Won kicks his shin again. “Fu—Would you stop that?”

You laugh into your elbow, trying hard to contain the tears. Finally, you muster up the intent to stop this fight from getting any worse. Coming between the two, you carefully separate the competitive boys.

“Y/n,” your boyfriend starts, turning you towards him. “You just gonna let him claim you like that? Need I remind you that last ni—”

“He is five years old, Jungkook,” you stifle a laugh. Behind you, Ju-Won is pulling on your skirt, asking for your attention. Jungkook’s mouth falls when you give it to him. You crouch down to his level and put on a smile despite your fusing boyfriend behind you.

“Let's get you back to class, yeah?” you ask him. Ju-Won happily nods before looking over your shoulder at Jungkook. Squinting his eyes he pokes his tongue out at him again. Jungkook mimics him, but ultimately Ju-Won gets the last word when he smiles at Jungkook from the doorway where you lead him out, telling him with a grin that you’re all his right now.

“Looks like you’re gonna need to put your foot down, Jeon,” Aecha giggles from behind him.

“That twat,” he clenches his fist. “As if he’s her husband. That’s my title.”

“Need I remind you that you are still currently Y/n’s boyfriend?” She takes a sip of her coffee.

“Future title,” he corrects.

“I dunno~” she mocks, moving over to her desk with an antagonizing smile. “You clearly got some competition.”

Jungkook gulps.

Yeah, he does.

Not just with 5-year-olds, but with nearly every man who lays his eyes on you. Jungkook knows you’re a catch. And if you’re going to cover up his hickies every day, how else is he going to make it known that he and you belong to each other?

“Maybe I need to buy a ring.”

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]