Warning: Some stories may contain triggering material such as; sexual content and mature themes, tough topics like abuse- sexual assault, drug abuse, etc. Proceed with caution because your well-being is most important!
𓈒 ﹒ ☆ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳
𝔅𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔞𝔫
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
𝝦𝝖Ɍ𝝟 Ꭻ𝝞𝝡𝝞𝝢
Cherries | pjm - angst, fluff, eventual smut | Rockstar! MC x hybrid!jimin (ON HOLD)
Summary: Y/N has had a rough run. She’s known for living on the edge and never taking anything seriously but her music. Guys and Girls love her. People idolize her. She seems like the perfect girl. Gorgeous, talented, smart, but nobody is as perfect as they seem. She’s finally learned to have peace with her demons and find joy in life , but shes never felt whole. She has everything she’s ever wanted but what is missing? Who knew she’d find the answer when she stumbles across an injured hybrid inside an alleyway across the street after one of her late concerts? Who knew how important they’d be to one another?
Summary: In which you end up in a strange situation with one of your bosses, Park Jimin. You find yourself in a sticky web of attraction and interest when you want nothing more than to steer clear of him. Do you stand a chance at resisting him?
Summary: Jimin asks you to help his insomnia in his most favorite way - by giving you his knot.
𝖆𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑’𝖘 𝖈𝖗𝖞 | pjm 🔞
Summary: If a sin is so bad then why’s it gotta taste so sweet?
But if these beings guard you, they do so because they have been summoned by your prayers.~ Saint Ambrose
Part l ~ Part ll
Ꭻ𝝚𝝤𝝢 Ꭻꓦ𝝢Ᏽ𝝟𝝤𝝤𝝟
New Rules | jjk (oneshot) | idol!jungkook x f! reader
Summary: When you get tired of playing the same old games with Jungkook ,you finally decide to come up with your new rules,- which Jungkook does not realize what he lost until he does.
After Hours | jjk 🔞 (oneshot) college au / fwb au
Summary: In which you only want sex, but Jungkook wants so much more.
We’re just friends | jjk 🔞 (oneshot) college au/ fwb au
Summary: Jungkook goes to see you and ends up confessing to you but not in the way he intended .
Bells Chiming | jjk
Summary: You were everything to him, everything about you drew him in and he became addicted. He didn’t know that he’d fall back into old habits, and ruin one of the most beautiful things he’s ever had. What does he do when he sees you for the first time in years?
𝝟𝝞𝝡 𝝩𝝖𝝚𝝜𝝭ꓦ𝝢Ᏽ
𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓮𝔂 🎥 | kth 🔞 (oneshot) college au/ camgirl au
Summary: You make a film with Taehyung after he confesses his dirty little secret to you.
Summary: It all started with letters sent to the leader of BTS , from you. In which, one day he responds back to you- only he’s a little too late.
Ꭻꓦ𝝢Ᏽ 𝝜𝝤S𝝚𝝤𝝟
𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 | jhs (oneshot/spin-off) fox!hybrid hobi x f! reader
Summary: “You’ve always been there- ever since middle school, but I’m not into you like that… Surely not..Right? Why is my heart pounding so fast and why are you asking me to kiss you?”
Summary: While on tour in America, a major inconvenience causes Hoseok to get stuck in a small town for 24 hours- in the middle of nowhere. Stuck in a country where he only knows the basics of its culture and way of life- he starts to lose hope. While it seemed like his world was crashing; it also granted him an experience of a lifetime- meeting you.
𝝡𝝞𝝢 𝝭𝝤𝝤𝝢Ᏽ𝝞
Don’t Blame Me | myg 🔞 (oneshot)
Summary: You know it’s wrong- your brother would kill. you if he knew what you were doing. Nobody should blame you when he looks so delicious and he’s asked to take you backstage . How could you refuse?
𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 for me | myg 🔞
Summary: You find yourself under the hands of a man who tastes like smoke, and a little bit of a toxic ambrosia made perfectly just for you. Yoongi wants you, craves you --- he needs you. He'll do anything to have you in his arms, at all costs. Even if you refuse him.
Summary: Jin decides after months of peer pressure and arguments from his friends- to finally decide to adopt a hybrid to help diminish his loneliness and grief. He meets you, whom cant be adopted but he decides to try to foster you. Everything changes when you arrive. Suddenly, Jin’s unsure about the ‘temporary placement’ now.
Drabbles: Play Date , Who are you? ,(more coming soon…)
Daddy’s Home | ksj- fluff, 🔞
Summary: Your husband is finally home from service and neither of you can get enough of eachother.
OT7
To Love, To Heal | BTS - f2l, neighbor!au
Summary: Healing is layers. Healing is time. Healing is excruciating. Once you think it’s done, it’s not. – Mary DeMuth
You’ve thought you’d healed from the pain. The feeling of insecurity, the pain of knowing you’ve given you’re all for it to all blow up in your face, making you the fool. After the antagonizing heartbreak from your ex- husband, you’ve found it hard to open up to anyone since. It’s been years since the breakup, and you’ve thought you’ve moved on and in a way you completely did. You may not harbor any feelings for your ex-husband anymore, but you’ve found that your heart isn’t as open as you initially thought- especially when seven kind and handsome men are striving for your love and affection next door.
Warnings: (wc 15k+) angst, hurt/not alot of comfort lol, dystopian au, cursing, enemies2lovers, brief mentions of explicit content and unprotected s*x, MDNI , mentions of: war, injuries, blood, gun, corrupt systems, etc. will add more if mentioned! based off arcane and the song- me meilleure ennemie by stromae and pomme
Masterlist
Part 1: t’es la meilleure chose qui m’est arrivée, mais aussi la pire chose qui m’est arrivée
The city had no name anymore.
After the Collapse started three years ago, names were useless—ruins didn’t need them. What was once Seoul had become a shell, a graveyard of steel and smoke. The sky was always gray, choked by the fallout of a thousand failed governments.
But the Resistance was still breathing.
Y/N crouched low on a crumbling rooftop, her rifle steady against her shoulder. Wind whispered past her cheek like a warning. Below, Regime patrols moved with mechanical precision—black armor, red insignias, synchronized footsteps like a heartbeat of death.
And there he was.
Jeon Jungkook.
The Phantom.
His name was spoken like a curse in Resistance camps. An elite operative, never seen twice. Some thought he wasn’t real—a ghost story to keep rebels in check.
But Y/N had met him. Twice.
The first time, she nearly slit his throat. The second, she saved his life.
She still hadn’t decided if that had been mercy or strategy.
Her finger hovered over the trigger. One shot. That’s all it would take. She had the angle. The high ground. The cause.
Then he looked up.
Not randomly. Not like a soldier scanning rooftops. He looked right at her.
As if he’d known she was there all along.
Y/N swore and pulled back.
You don’t look like a killer.
His voice echoed in her memory.
You don’t look like a puppet.
Flashback ~
One year ago
Jungkook’s POV: c'est quelle émotion, la haine , ou la douceur, quand j'entends ton prénom ?
She had me in a chokehold the first time we met.
Literally.
Rusted blade to my throat, dirt on her cheek, breath hot against my skin. I was pinned in a collapsed warehouse after a failed sting op.
And I should’ve killed her. I could've many times.
I’d been trained to. Reflexes sharp. No hesitation.
But she looked me in the eyes and didn’t flinch. Even as blood dripped from her own temple. Even as the Regime’s alarms wailed outside.
She wasn’t scared of me.
And that… wrecked something in me.
Maybe that's why when she removed the knife from my neck and ran off into the secluded ruined streets. I let her go.
She couldn't understand why. Maybe I didn't either.
But from that moment, I couldn’t stop watching her. Tracking her. Dreaming of her. Hating the way her name burned in my mouth like a secret I didn’t want to spit out.
Every kill after that felt heavier.
Every order tasted like ash.
Because I wasn’t afraid of death. I was afraid of her. Of the way she made me want.
To choose.
To change.
To betray.
Part 2: encore plus près d’tes adversaires
Present~
They met again in the remains of a subway tunnel, lit only by flickering emergency lights and firelight from burning cables.
Jungkook stepped out from the shadows like he belonged to them. His face was scratched. One eye bruised. But his expression was unreadable, as always.
“You’re getting slower,” he said.
“You’re still breathing,” Y/N shot back.
“Not for lack of effort on your part.”
Their standoff was silent after that. Just heavy breaths and distant gunfire. They circled each other like wolves.
“I heard you spared me,” he said, voice low.
“I didn’t,” she lied.
He smirked. “Liar.”
When she moved to leave, he grabbed her wrist. Not rough. Just enough to stop her.
“What are we doing?” he asked.
Her mouth opened, then closed. She hated that he always asked the questions she was trying not to think about.
“You’re my enemy,” she whispered.
“Then why did you fix my wound?”
Because you looked at me like I was still human.
Because when I saw you bleed, I couldn’t breathe.
Instead, she said, “Because I want to kill you myself.”
He smiled. But there was sadness in it.
Flashback ~
Six months ago
In a half-destroyed greenhouse, somewhere in the Southern Outskirts , Y/N shouldn’t have stopped.
She found him slumped behind shattered glass and vines, blood trailing in a slow, sticky path behind him. His Regime armor was cracked. One leg twisted wrong. A gash split across his side, deep and ugly.
Jeon Jungkook—the Phantom—was dying.
She should have killed him.
She’d dreamed of it.
Trained for it.
Fantasized about what his blood would look like on her hands.
Instead, she dropped to her knees beside him and whispered, “Fuck.”
His eyes opened. Unfocused at first. Then sharp.
“You again,” he murmured.
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“You sound disappointed.”
She tore open the med pack strapped to her thigh. “Don’t talk.”
He laughed—then winced. “Didn’t know rebels cared this much.”
“I don’t,” she snapped. “I just don’t want someone else taking credit for your death.”
She cut through his uniform with a blade, hands steady. Pressed gauze into the gash, watching him twitch.
He watched her, too. Always watching.
“You don’t look like a killer,” he said, voice hoarse.
Y/N’s hands paused. Her jaw clenched. “You don’t look like a puppet.”
That made him laugh again, quieter this time. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”
She stitched him up in silence after that. Her fingers moved with practiced skill. She’d patched up dozens of wounded rebels before. But this was different.
This was him.
Enemy. Monster. Ghost.
And right now… just a man bleeding in her hands.
When she finished, she stood. Stared down at him.
“I should kill you.”
He looked up, eyes dark and unreadable. “Then why haven’t you?”
She didn’t have an answer. Only turned, her boots crunching glass.
He didn’t stop her. Didn’t call after her.
But as she reached the doorway, he said quietly, “Next time, I won’t owe you.”
She didn’t look back.
But her heart did.
⸻
Three days after the greenhouse
Regime HQ, Command Sector 7
The lights in the debriefing chamber were surgical—white, blinding, cold. The kind that made your soul feel flayed open.
Jungkook stood in the center of the room, shirtless, wounds still fresh, stitched, healing wrong. Sweat clung to his skin under the gaze of three senior operatives, whose names he did not know. All seated. All masked. Like gods pretending they weren’t human.
“Commander 212,” one of them said. “Your mission was to eliminate the rebel engineer. You returned alone. Wounded. Without the target.”
Jungkook didn’t flinch.
“She escaped,” he said.
“Did she?” another voice asked, the one with the silver insignia. Female. Cold.
A long pause.
“We recovered footage from a civilian drone nearby,” she continued. “You were found unconscious. No signs of pursuit. No signs of a fight.”
Jungkook kept his eyes forward. Blank. Like he’d practiced.
“She caught me off guard,” he said. “Didn’t finish the job.”
“Interesting,” Silver Voice said. “That’s not like her.”
He knew they didn’t believe him.
Regime didn’t breed fools. Only monsters.
“Do you know what happens to ghosts who go soft?” the third voice asked—this one slow, taunting. “They vanish. Quietly. Painfully.”
Jungkook met that one’s eyes. His hands were fists at his sides.
“I’m not soft.”
“Prove it,” Silver Voice said. “Track her. Finish the job. Or we will.”
They dismissed him with a wave. Like he was less than dirt. Less than weapon.
Later that night…
He stood in front of the mirror in his quarters, peeling the bandages off slowly. The wound Y/N had closed was healing clean. Better than it should have.
She had good hands. Steady. Careful. Kind, even when she didn’t want to be.
And that was the problem.
She was still human.
And he was supposed to be something else.
He stared at himself. At the emblem etched onto his shoulder—Regime brand, permanent, burned into him when he was fifteen.
He raised the knife.
Pressed it to the mark.
Paused.
And dropped it.
Not yet.
But soon.
Because loyalty was a lie.
And the only truth left in him…
Was her.
Part 3: fuis-moi, le pire c’est toi et moi
The present and two days after the reunion in the tunnels
It was a setup.
She knew the moment she stepped into the old cathedral, cold and echoing. Her contact was dead before she arrived. And the Regime was already there—uniforms in the pews, red lights blinking.
She ran.
Didn’t even make it two blocks before she was tackled, pinned, drugged. Darkness came fast and full of teeth.
When she woke, her head throbbed. Wrists bound. Blood dried on her temple.
Then the door opened.
Jungkook.
Dressed in full Regime uniform, insignia glowing like betrayal.
He stepped inside. Closed the door. And locked it.
“So this is it,” she whispered. “You were always going to bring me in.”
His jaw clenched. “I had to. I needed them to believe me.”
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he knelt beside her. Unclipped her cuffs with a key from his boot.
“You have five minutes to escape.”
Her heart stuttered. “You’re helping me?”
“I’m ending it.”
“You’ll be branded a traitor.”
He met her eyes then, raw and burning.
“I already was. The moment I let you live the first time.”
Part 4: pourquoi ton prénom me blesse , quand il se cache , juste là dans l’espace ?
Y/N ran through the dead city with blood in her mouth and fire in her chest.
The cold burned her lungs. Alarms howled behind her. She didn’t look back.
She didn’t want to see him again.
Didn’t want to see the way he’d looked at her—like she was something sacred and cursed at once. Like he’d chosen her over everything, and already knew it would destroy him.
Jungkook was the enemy.
She couldn’t keep forgetting that.
But she also couldn’t forget the way his hands had trembled as he undid her cuffs. Couldn’t forget how his voice cracked when he whispered, “Run.”
Couldn’t forget that she wanted to stay.
Part 5: je t’aime, je te hais
Two weeks passed.
Jungkook vanished. No reports. No sightings. The Regime claimed he’d gone rogue, but no one knew why.
Y/N knew why.
She just didn’t know where he’d gone.
Until she found him again—half-dead in the neutral zone, hiding in the ruins of a train station, bandaged poorly, one eye swollen shut.
“You look like hell,” she said, standing over him.
“You always say the sweetest things,” he rasped.
She didn’t answer. Just knelt beside him, pulled a flask from her jacket, and pressed it to his lips.
He drank. Then looked at her.
“I thought you wouldn’t come.”
“I thought I hated you.”
“You do,” he said. “You just hate the way I make you feel more.”
Y/N blinked. Then kissed him.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was a battlefield—teeth, hands, heat, war. The taste of betrayal and need, of everything unspoken and long denied.
And when it was over, when she pulled away, chest heaving—he didn’t look victorious.
He looked ruined.
“Stay,” he whispered.
“I can’t.”
“I know.”
The bunker was buried beneath a collapsed metro station. Reinforced, silent, forgotten. Y/N dragged Jungkook down there, cursing under her breath the entire way.
His blood soaked her jacket. His eyes stayed on her the whole time.
When she finally dropped him onto the cot and slammed the door behind them, silence swallowed them whole.
“You’re bleeding through the wrap,” she muttered, kneeling to unbuckle his chest armor.
“I noticed,” he said hoarsely.
She glared up at him. “You’re not allowed to die. Not before I get answers.”
He laughed, weakly. “You always were bossy.”
She shoved his jacket off. Her hands slowed when she saw the scars. Old burns. Bullet grazes. A knife wound across his ribs.
Her fingers hovered. “They did this to you?”
“Some of it. Some were you.”
She looked up. His eyes were soft for once. Raw. And when he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear—she broke.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, pulling her in.
Their mouths crashed together like war—biting, desperate, breathless. His hands gripped her hips, pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, heart pounding against his.
“You don’t get to do this,” she gasped. “You don’t get to be good.”
“I’m not good,” he whispered into her neck. “I’m just yours.”
Clothes were stripped off with urgency, their bodies finding each other like they’d done this in daydreams. And maybe they had. In moments stolen between firefights. In silence and stares and fury.
When he was inside her, it felt like falling.
When she moaned his name, it sounded like surrender.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t sweet. It was survival. Passion as protest. Touch as confession.
After, tangled in each other, chests heaving—neither spoke for a long time.
“Do you regret it?” she whispered.
He kissed her shoulder. “No. Even if it kills me.”
Part 6: Ma Meilleure Ennemie
The final battle began on a gray morning.
The Resistance had cracked the Regime’s codes. The last tower—their communications hub—was going down. If it fell, the war could end. If it didn’t… everything they’d fought for would be erased.
Y/N led the assault team.
She didn’t expect to find Jungkook waiting inside.
He stood in the control room, alone, wearing the insignia of the enemy—but his eyes… his eyes were pleading.
“They’ll kill you,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then get out of the way.”
“I can’t. Not until you hear me.”
She raised her gun. “I don’t want to hear you.”
“You have to,” he said. “Because I didn’t just choose you. I chose us. And I need you to be the one who ends this.”
Tears stung her eyes. “Why me?”
“Because you’re the only one who ever made me want to live for something other than obedience.”
She fired.
But not at him. At the control panel.
Sparks exploded. Lights died. The tower shut down.
Jungkook stared at her, stunned.
“You chose me,” he said.
She turned to him. “I always did. I just hated you for it.”
Four days after the fall of the tower~
Outer District 1, Regime Command
Ash hung in the air like snowfall.
The silence was unnatural—not peace, but the absence of control. Of orders. Of the voice that had ruled every sector with fear and steel for years.
The tower was gone. And with it, the Regime’s grip on the grid—on surveillance, on drones, on their endless broadcast of obedience.
And now they were panicking. Scattering like roaches under light.
Jungkook stood beside Y/N on the rooftop of an old data facility, watching the last warship rise in the distance, flames licking at its tail. Someone had sabotaged the launch pad—their people, finally, slipping knives between ribs where it counted.
“We did it,” Y/N whispered, like she couldn’t quite believe it.
Jungkook didn’t answer at first. He was staring at the fires below—at the streets where civilians were tearing down Regime banners, where captured rebels were being freed, where soldiers were throwing down their weapons and looking around like they were waking up from a long, bitter dream.
She turned to him.
“You still with me?”
He met her eyes. Nodded once. “Always was.”
And he meant it.
Even when he’d been wearing the uniform.
Even when he’d held a gun to her skull and hadn’t pulled the trigger.
Even when he’d heard the order to kill her and said nothing in return.
He’d been hers long before he knew what that meant.
⸻
The Command Breach – 0200 Hours
Jungkook led the charge into the Regime’s final stronghold with a detonator in one hand and a sidearm in the other. His old keycard still worked, to his surprise, how foolish of them. No one expected him to turn.
He took out four guards before they even sounded an alarm.
Y/N hacked the central core, killing the defense grid from the inside. The building started to collapse, systems blinking out one by one—power, locks, life support, surveillance.
Jungkook found Silver Voice in the upper command chamber. She was alone. Calm. Smiling.
“I knew it’d be you,” she said.
He didn’t reply.
He just pulled the trigger.
⸻
After
By dawn, it was over.
No broadcast. No orders. No more Regime.
The Resistance didn’t cheer. Not loudly. Not yet. Grief and ash still lined their faces. The cost had been high—too high. But something had cracked open in the rubble.
Hope.
Y/N and Jungkook stood in the ruins together. Smoke curling around them. Hands scarred. Clothes torn. Eyes tired.
“I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now,” she said quietly.
He took her hand.
“Build something better.”
She looked up at him. “With me?”
“With you,” he said. “Always.”
Finale : Je t'aime
One year since the end of the Regime ~
Somewhere in the North, beyond the old warlines, they lived together in a logged cabin on the outer sides of the woods.
It was quiet here.
Not the silence of fear or aftermath, but the kind that belonged to early mornings and wind through trees. The kind that didn’t weigh heavy on your chest.
Y/N stood barefoot in the grass, sleeves rolled to her elbows, eyes closed against the sunlight. Her hair was longer now. Her face softer. Still sharp, still hers—but no longer etched with constant tension.
Behind her, the cabin creaked with life. A fire crackled. Someone—Jungkook—was fixing the windows again, humming under his breath like he didn’t remember how to stop.
He always hummed now.
She liked that.
When she turned, he was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, paint smudged on his cheek.
“You’re staring again,” he said.
“I get to,” she replied.
He stepped toward her, slow. Careful. Like he still wasn’t used to a world where nothing was trying to kill them.
She met him halfway.
They stood chest to chest, and neither spoke for a while. Didn’t need to.
When he finally did speak, it was soft. “Do you ever miss it?”
“The war?”
He nodded.
She thought about it. The adrenaline. The cause. The fire in her veins. The girl she’d been.
“No,” she said. “But I miss who I got to be with you in it.”
Jungkook smiled, small and a little sad. “I think we’re still those people.”
“No,” she whispered. “We’re better.”
⸻
That night
They lay tangled in linen and moonlight. His head on her chest, her fingers brushing lazy circles along his spine.
He murmured something against her skin.
“What?”
“If we hadn’t made it out…”
She looked down at him.
“…would it have been worth it?”
She didn’t answer right away. Just curled her hand into his hair. Let the silence stretch.
“If all I ever got was that bunker night with you?” she said. “Then yeah. It would’ve been worth it.”
He exhaled. Slow. Shaky.
“I love you,” he said.
She smiled into the dark. “I know.”
The Regime was gone.
The resistance disbanded. A council formed. Cities rebuilt.
But the story of them—the ghost soldier and the rebel girl—echoed in the new world like a myth. A warning. A promise.
Of the girl with fire in her veins.
Of the boy built for war who chose love instead.
Of a war fought not just with bullets—but with glances, with lies, with touches never meant to linger.
They say enemies know each other best.
Maybe that’s why she loved him so cruelly.
And why he let her.
Not because they were right for each other ,but because in a world made of ruin and blood—
Amid the noise of fame, sometimes the most powerful connection is the one that doesn’t need to be seen, only felt.
warnings: none, first time meeting , fluff
A/N: my loves… im sorry for being so in/out with my writing, life has kept me busy and i never had the time (or want) to write anything. heres a short itty bitty one shot that popped in my brain and i needed to get it out and give you guys something! hope you enjoy this crumb! 💗 (also do you guys prefer me to write x reader or x oc?? let me know!)
masterlist
The 2020 MTV Video Music Awards (VMAs) were buzzing with energy as the night unfolded under a dazzling array of lights. The atmosphere was electric, a fusion of legends and rising stars, a night of performances and moments that would define pop culture for years to come. Everyone in the industry, it seemed, had their eyes on this event—and for good reason.
Among them was Lena Carter, a name that everyone in the music world was starting to recognize. Not just for her chart-topping singles, her unmatched vocals, or her effortlessly cool style, but because she had something else. She had a presence—an aura. She was the kind of artist whose fame had escalated into something almost mythical. Her rise was meteoric: from a viral video on social media to global superstardom, she’d become the face of a new era in music.
The VMAs had invited her as one of the night’s brightest stars. She wasn’t just there to witness the show; she was one of the main attractions. Her debut album had swept the world off its feet, and her performance of “Eclipsed” was something the internet could not stop talking about. The anticipation surrounding her was palpable, and Lena, as always, was calm and collected, exuding an effortless confidence.
But it wasn’t only the fans who were curious about her. Backstage, even the biggest names in the industry were eager to get a glimpse of Lena. And among them, a certain group of seven men stood out.
BTS.
They were legends in their own right, having amassed a legacy that spanned over a decade. Their presence at every award show was almost a guarantee of a historic moment. But on this particular evening, something about Lena’s fame intrigued them.
As Lena arrived at the venue, her outfit—a sleek black leather ensemble that shimmered under the lights—was a showstopper in itself. She walked past the endless rows of photographers and fans clamoring for a glimpse of her, confident, but with an almost ethereal sense of ease. Her eyes scanned the room, the hum of the night providing a familiar backdrop.
She wasn’t exactly used to the chaos, but she had learned how to navigate it. The VMAs were her home turf now, and she was determined to make a statement.
Then, as she passed a quieter corridor backstage, she felt a presence—a group of men standing near the dressing rooms. She recognized them instantly.
BTS.
They were laughing amongst themselves, all wearing their signature looks: sleek, stylish, and impossibly chic. Lena had always admired their music, but what really intrigued her was their ability to remain grounded, despite their massive success.
“Hey,” she called out, offering a warm smile.
The group turned in unison, their faces lighting up with recognition. Namjoon, Jin, Suga, J-Hope, Jimin, V, and Jungkook—each of them had a look of surprise that quickly morphed into one of admiration.
It was Jungkook, the golden maknae, who spoke first, his voice filled with awe. “Lena Carter, right? Wow, it’s amazing to meet you in person. We’ve all been listening to your album non-stop.”
Lena’s smile widened. “Thank you. I’ve been a fan of yours for ages. You guys are… well, legends.”
The air shifted as the conversation unfolded, and the connection was immediate. Lena and Jungkook had an undeniable chemistry—a shared understanding of the pressures of fame, the complexities of being an artist in the public eye. They bonded over their love of music, their mutual respect for each other’s artistry, and their shared experiences of working tirelessly to perfect their craft.
As the evening went on, Lena found herself drawn to Jungkook’s quiet intensity. There was something about the way he spoke, the way his eyes lit up when discussing his passion for music, that made her want to know more. They talked about everything: the music industry, the pressure to constantly be at the top, their creative processes. Jungkook was fascinated by Lena’s approach to music. Her voice, raw and powerful, was a weapon in the best way, and she seemed so in tune with herself.
After the conversation stretched past what Lena thought was the allotted “small talk” time, she was about to excuse herself when Jungkook spoke again, his voice lower than before, a touch of something else behind his words.
“You know,” he said, “I’ve always thought there was something special about people who create their own path in the industry. But after hearing you talk about how you write your songs, how you really feel the music—it’s… it’s inspiring.”
Lena felt a flutter in her chest, a rush of something unexpected. She hadn’t expected such sincerity from him—BTS, with their untouchable status, might have seemed like a distant dream to her a year ago, but now here they were, having a genuine conversation.
“You’re kind of like that too,” Lena replied, her voice quieter than usual. “I mean, I’ve watched you guys from afar, and the way you push boundaries, the way you all come together… it’s something rare.”
Jungkook smiled, his eyes bright. “Maybe that’s why we’re all here now. We all know what it’s like to fight for what we love. And hearing your story… I don’t know, it just makes me want to keep pushing, too.”
Before she could respond, the moment was interrupted by a sudden call for their attention—a reminder that the VMAs were still in full swing, and they all had places to be. But as the group moved toward the stage, Jungkook lingered for a moment.
“I don’t know if we’ll see each other again tonight, but I’d love to hang out sometime—just the two of us. No cameras, no spotlight. Just… music.”
Lena, caught off guard by the invitation, felt a rush of warmth. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice steady but her heart racing.
As they both made their way to their respective stages, Lena couldn’t help but reflect on the unexpected connection she had made that night. There, in the midst of flashing cameras and screaming fans, she had found someone who understood her in a way few people did.
But little did she know, the night was only the beginning of something far bigger than either of them had imagined.
⸻
After their performance at the VMAs, Lena was escorted to the backstage area, where she met up with her team. But as she rounded a corner, she was surprised to see Jungkook waiting for her.
“Hey,” he greeted her with a soft smile, his eyes glinting with something more than just friendship. “I know this place is chaotic, but I really meant it earlier. I’d love to grab coffee tomorrow. Talk about music… or whatever.”
Lena’s heart skipped a beat, and this time, she didn’t hesitate.
“Let’s do it,” she replied, her eyes locking with his.
What started as an innocent meeting backstage had evolved into something electric, something neither of them could ignore. They didn’t know where this would lead, but as they walked out together, away from the chaos of the VMAs, Lena knew that this moment was something special. Something worth cherishing.
had a crazy ass dream about going to the skz concert and changbin coming up to me with an NDA that i signed and as we we’re getting to it, my period decided to visit and it was like the floodgates opened like a waterfall and changbin screamed and thought i was dying 😭💀🤦♀️
the universe has moved for us
there wasn't anything even slightly out of place
our happiness has been destined
cause you love me and i love you
[ cr : namuspromised ]
Iiiiihhh this was fun!!! Thank you for the tag @violetsiren90 🥰
A handwritten letter? 😭 The fact that I still write everything down by hand; the plot, summary, character profiles and such... I'm such a dinosaur, but there's just something heartfelt and special about writing by hand okay 🥹
If I could write reviews by hand I certainly would!!!
No pressure here, but I'm tagging @letjungcoook7 @ktownshizzle @orchidyoonkook @back2bluesidex @jeonsweetpea @btsgotjams27 @ctrlhope and @yoonia 🥰
Theme: slight angst, slight failing to move on, exes to lovers, second chances au. post discharge scenario.
Word count: 1k+
Summary: If the highest degree of love had a name - it would be termed as Jung Hoseok in your story.
Warnings: reader is bisexual (not a warning but just mentioning), implied pining. that's really all.
Minors do not interact!!
Masterlist | Patreon
A/N: Because my husband is home.
Your thumb hover above the ‘send’ button.
Dilemma? Yeah, that’s right.
You can’t decide whether to send this simple text or not. So, you read it again.
“Congratulations on discharge.” - that’s all it says. That’s all you have to say to the man you have loved the most, you have felt pain for the most.
Just before his enlistment - Hoseok broke up with you, claiming that the changes would be too much for him to take and he needed to start afresh.
Absurd. You thought.
But you realized you had been in his shoes when you moved back to Seoul after spending five years of a successful career in LA. You wanted to start afresh too, you had broken up with your girlfriend too.
So you didn’t blame him.
Kissed him all the best and moved on and failed to do that - miserably.
Because if the highest degree of love had a name - it would be termed as Jung Hoseok in your story.
Now that he has discharged just this morning - you can’t decide if you should send the text or not.
If you do - he might think you are trying to get back in touch or worse back together.
If you don’t - it will question your generosity because you and Hoseok go way back. He had been a close friend before he was your boyfriend.
Just when you are about to close the messaging app, Poko, your cat, jumps on your lap and you accidentally hit the send button.
Everything happens for a reason.
“Poko!” you shout at her mildly “Thanks.”
She purrs sitting on your lap.
You are pouring the second cup of coffee of the day when your phone buzzes with a notification. Being afraid of the obvious, you decide to ignore it first but every pore in your body oozes with curiosity.
Is it Hoseok? Has he sent a passive reply? Is he angry? Is he upset that you texted him?
All of these questions raged inside your mind, making you give up.
When you open the application you find four different texts while only one would have been enough to calm you down.
“Hey, thank you so much.”
“How are you doing, Y/N?”
“I was going to call you. Haha. I actually wanted to talk to you if it’s possible.”
“Let me know if you are in. I am all free so any time is fine by me.”
Fuck. Hoseok wants to talk? What he wants to talk about? Is he writing a new song? Does he want a consultation?
Or maybe it’s not professional? But personal?
A tiny sprout of hope swayed in your chest.
Sucking in a deep breath you reply, “sure. I am at the office till 7. You can come by anytime you want.”
His reply comes within a second, “I will see you in an hour.”
Your heart thumps in your chest.
Try as you might but you have never been able to act cool whenever Jung Hoseok was in the room - and even after dating him for an entire year, he still makes you nervous.
He walks inside your office wearing baggy jeans and a soft-looking dark gray hoodie with snoopy painted in the middle of it. His hair is cut short just like it should be. His skin is glowing, his cheeks are full, his lips are stretched in a smile that translates to ‘it’s good to see you’.
You urge your heart to slow down and your mind to take charge of your body parts that have stopped working since the moment his citrusy perfume has invaded your system.
“When did you change assistants?” he asks casually, as if he didn’t ask for a closure of your relationship just 18 and half months ago.
“Hana got married last month.” you gesture at him to sit on the sofa.
He extends a bouquet of flowers towards you, just then you realize that he had been hiding his hand behind.
“Ah. I should be the one to congratulate you with flowers.” you try to keep the blush away as you sit on the other corner of the sofa.
“It’s alright.” he gives you one of his most charming smiles, making your heart flip inside your chest.
“Y/N” Hoseok starts in a serious tone, “the reason why I am here is because I wanted to apologize- um- for the way I behaved during our very last meeting.” he sighs. The traces of smiles vanishing from his face as a frown takes over the space between his eyebrows.
“It’s ok-”
“No please hear me out. I have been a fool. I thought things would change for me when I enlist. I thought I would change and I might not be the same guy you once liked and the guy who once liked you. But I was wrong. Hell- the wrongest I have ever been.” he covers his face with his big palms - veins prominent on the surface of the skin. You divert your focus instantly.
“I- I had a long time to think. A lot of free time… at the end of the day… when my body would be exhausted from all the training but sleep wouldn’t come by. Or maybe during communal showers, when other guys would talk about their women back home - and I- I thought of you. I thought of the way we were so much in love and all the times we spent together. I would wish it was you whenever anyone came to visit me without prior notice. It was too much - what I feel for you is too much and that hasn’t changed a bit. I know I said I would like to start afresh so.. So I came to ask you out again, to start over. If you have anyone - reject me. Reject me on my face so that I know how stupid I have been all the time and-”
“Fuck you, Hoseok. Fuck you because I still love you. And it’s pathetic how I wanna jump on your right now. My dignity as a woman is in question.” a lone tear slips down your eyes.
Hoseok’s own eyes are glossy but his smile is returning in full length.
He doesn’t say anything rather opens his arms for you.
When you press your body against his, and hear his heart beating faster than it should - you find that the closure of your story will always be Jung Hoseok.
"I can see the pain in your eyes
I don't wanna say that I'm God, but
I'll take you to heaven if you die"
Alternatively,
You would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timeline.
Warnings: implied smut, explicit smut, emotional sex, very sad (don't underestimate the angst huhu), depressed yoongi, reader is pining so hard lord!, creampie, unplanned pregnancy, NSFW!!
Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics
Minors do not interact!!
Masterlist | Patreon
A/N: Lemme know if you want a part 2? (even though I already know the answer hehe).
Arrangement.
You would rather call it an arrangement - the thing that is going on between you and Yoongi. Anything you have been feeling for him, outside your usual practice, is your, solely your decision or more likely… fault.
Hence, it’s a given. A given that you shouldn’t feel your heart dropping to your stomach, crashing on whatever is available inside your body and shattering into a thousand pieces, when you find Gyuri walking inside the room.
Beside you, Yoongi tenses. His body goes rigid as the air inside the room thickens beyond repair. And all of a sudden you can’t breathe.
Now you understand why Namjoon has been avoiding to reveal the name of the artist all along.
Lee Gyuri - One of the most successful solo artist as well as Min Yoongi’s one true love, who had left him broken so bad that you once found him on the street, unconscious, vomit all over his clothes - is now back in his life… in your life, which has been revolving around him.
Where she left - You started.
You picked Yoongi up, put him into pieces, not that you were able to heal the cracks but you at least conjoined it all together.
And just like that - one night after a long heart to heart talk and a few beers, you found him seethed deep inside you. Yoongi chanted your name again and again as if it’s a mantra that will heal the cracks of his heart all while he rutted in you like a mad man.
It started from there - the arrangement.
At the end of long days and even longer nights, whenever both of you were too exhausted to go home, you spent the nights crammed together on Yoongi’s studio couch.
Quiet whispers, curse words, wandering hands, secret body parts slick with arousal - everything had made your existence dwindle dangerously through his fingers.
Yoongi always fell asleep right after but you stayed awake, tracing the slope of his nose, bow of his lips, map of his pale skin glinting in the dark.
You had made a mistake.
You fell in love.
Now as Gyuri slides inside the room with natural elegance, you hear Yoongi’s breathing getting quicker in pace.
He is anxious.
You place a hand on his knees, under the table. It’s a practiced habit that you adopted over time. Your fingertips help to calm him down.
Everything is the same.
Except this time, Yoongi doesn’t relax under your touch.
“Yoongi, can we talk for a moment?” Gyuri requests with a timid voice at the end of the meeting. Her eyes quickly lock with yours for a fraction of a second.
You half expect for Yoongi to say no. You pray to the universe for his answer to come as negative even when you know –
“Yes. Sure.”
That Yoongi never stopped loving her for a moment. Yoongi loved, loves and will love only one woman - and that’s not you.
Even though you don’t feel your legs anymore, you stand up. You choose to take the stairs to exhaust your body so that your sadness can be masked.
But even as you climb down floors after floors - your heart stays confined in that room locked with two lovers.
“She said she wants to work it out this time. She has been missing me terribly... she said.” Yoongi doesn’t look away from the blaring computer screen.
He probably doesn’t have the heart of looking into your eyes.
Somewhere he, too, knows of the deepest secrets you have been hiding from him.
“And? What did you say?” You chew on the inside of your mouth, again praying for him to answer something of your liking.
“That I will think about it.” you knew he would say that.
“What is there to think about, Yoongi? You still love her.” you force the words out of your mouth even when your throat closes up.
Tears threaten to spill from the corner of your eyes but you blink those away.
Yoongi finally looks at you, his own eyes glinting with moisture.
“But what about you?” The question is rhetorical - metaphorical.
“Me? I will go back to where I started from.” you lie, heart threatening to leap out of your chest.
You would go back, but not where you started from, you would go back to the night when you picked Yoongi up from the street.
In simpler terms, you would go back in time and fall in love with Yoongi over and over and over again even after knowing that he would never once be yours in any of the timelines.
You squeeze your eyes shut tight, pretending not to hear anything at all.
Even though you have to summon all of your willpower to do so - you stay still in your bed.
Your tears though - keep falling, rolling down the apple of your cheeks and making a small puddle inside the curve of your ear.
He keeps rambling on the door.
Sometimes the knocks are steady, sometimes infused with anger but his voice stays low. You wouldn’t hear him calling your name if you weren’t attentive enough.
“Y/N! Please open the door.” Yoongi requests again. Through the wood of your door it sounds like a whisper, “Please. I- I want to see you once.”
Every pore of your body woozes out the desire of letting him in, taking him inside your arms and never ever letting him go.
But you are afraid.
He has never once visited you by his own will.
He only tagged along when you asked him to.
So you are afraid.
Afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he might say what you don’t want to hear. You already know everything - know enough - if he points it out now that he is going to leave you behind as the love of his life is back then you might as well break down, which you definitely don’t want to do.
You have always appeared to be nonchalant before Yoongi about this arrangement, about his kisses, his marks, his simple ignorance - and you want it to stay that way.
However, your resolve breaks when you hear a sob, muffled by the door.
Is he crying? Why? Why is he crying at your door?
So you get up, pad towards the door and swing it open.
Yoongi’s head shoots up and you look at his face.
He is a mess - a mess that you love.
With dark hair all disheveled, face smeared with tears, lips chapped, Yoongi says, “I am here to end things.”
This. You were afraid of this.
Your insides churn and mold into a ball of nothingness. There are words sitting on the tip of your tongue but you choose to stay silent as always.
“Okay.” you reply, holding the door knob again ready to shut it on his beautiful face for once and for all.
Yoongi forces his hand at the edge of the door, preventing you from closing it.
He steps inside your apartment and within a few moments, you are being pushed to the door, closing it with the force of your back.
Yoongi kisses you with everything he has left inside. You kiss him back.
You don’t know what is happening but if this is for one last time, then you will accept it.
Your hands wrap around his neck on their own accord. His chapped lips mold perfectly with your moisturized pair.
They move in perfect sync, perfect rhythm - the rhythm of destruction.
“Y/N” Yoongi whispers in between the kiss, “I am sorry.”
You don’t pay his words any mind, rather you let your fingers get lost in his long dark hair.
The kiss grows hungrier by every second you spend in each other’s hold.
Yoongi starts directing you towards your bedroom and your small apartment space takes no time to be crossed.
You soon feel the edge of your bed behind your knees.
When you fall back - Yoongi falls with you.
He looks into your eyes, his own eyes telling a thousand different stories all together. But tonight, you don’t try to read those.
What’s the point when your own chapter is ending? When memories of you will be left to collect dust on the surface?
What’s the point when he knows he is going back to the one he has always loved?
His rough calloused hand comes in contact with your cheek.
“I’m sorry.” he whispers again as he reaches down to place a kiss on your forehead.
“I’m sorry.” he kisses your right eye.
“I’m sorry.” he kisses your left eye.
“I’m sorry.” this time it’s the tip of your nose.
“I’m sorry” and lastly it’s your lips.
You have never seen Min Yoongi this emotional.
After Gyuri left him, he became numb. You were never able to thaw the frozen parts of him.
But tonight you see a completely different Yoongi. Is this Gyuri’s magic? Has her return made him a human again?
Yoongi - who never touched you or kissed you more than it’s needed, is now apologizing while kissing every small part of your face?
You take a sharp breath and reply, “it’s okay.” even though you don’t know what he is apologizing for. For not being able to reciprocate your feelings? For using you when you let him? For leaving you behind after tonight?
He has already started placing kisses around your jaw, throat, collarbones. His hands fist the hem of your pajama top and he pulls it up revealing your naked chest.
He doesn’t waste time diving down and taking one of your perked nipples inside his mouth.
He sucks on it softly, sweetly - like a lover. Your tears start spilling from your eyes finally. But you completely lose it when you feel his own tears on the mound of your breast. You let him sob, as you sob quietly.
It doesn’t take much time for your clothes and his clothes to join as a hip on the floor of your bedroom.
Yoongi pumps himself, preparing for one last time to enter you. When he lines his cock on your entrance, he takes a quick glance at your face, as if asking for permission.
Your tear stained face lights up in a small smile - it’s not fake.
He enters you, takes up every corner of your walls, fills you with himself - both of your body and heart.
Yoongi doesn’t say anything anymore. He pushes himself inside you, pounds into you with an unusual pace.
His face comes to rest on the crook of your neck. You embrace him to stay there, stay with you as long as it lasts.
For the first time ever, Yoongi doesn’t fucks you - he makes love to you.
The realization makes you shudder.
Why now? Why now out of all the time? Why now when everything is ending?
His breath starts getting labored, you feel yourself hanging close to the edge as well.
And after a few more thrusts, you let go. He fills you up following your invitation.
Both of you stay like that even after the deed is done - for a moment, an hour? You don’t know.
You feel his disposal running down your inner thigh, when he finally slips out of you.
You sneak a glance in his dark orbs for one last time. With a sore throat and an equally sore heart you whisper, “Be happy, Yoongi.”
You see one last drop of tear slipping down his eyes when he dips down to cage your lips in his for one last time.
It’s been a month since that night.
It’s been a month since you last talked to Yoongi beside work.
It’s been a month since you last saw Yoongi outside work.
It’s been a month since you withdrew from Gyuri’s project.
It’s been more than a month since you had your last period.
As you stand in your bathroom, with the tiny testing kit, those two red lines mock you.
You thought that night was the last time? But this after effect - where will you go with this? Who will you confide in?
It can’t be Min Yoongi - can it?
You have let him slide through your fingers after all.
