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serenecypher · 3 months

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Bangtan Host Club Chapter One

Genre: BTS Ot7xf!Reader, Poly!AU, Fluff, Romance, Crack-ish, Eventual Smut.

W/C: 2600

Summary: Tired of your boring mundane life? Become an exclusive member of The Bangtan Host Club™ today and let 7 charming men help you out.

Warnings: This chapter is rated PG13, but future chapters may include Mature Themes.

Disclaimer: Please do not copy/translate or cross-post my work. The tag list is open. just DM or send an ask to be included.

A/N: Here is the first chapter for Bangtan Host Club! Hope you enjoy it. Send me any feedback you have, it would be greatly appreciated. Also, as I said before, the characters of the boys are inspired by the manga and anime Ouran High School Host Club. If you haven't seen it, please watch it. Make your guesses on who plays who in the replies lol

If we are all being honest, you are going through it.

Chapter 1 >> Chapter 2

You’ve spent the last two hours trudging across the same corridor, smelling the clinical scent of the same floor disinfectant that is starting to make your nose itch, waiting for this damned locksmith to show up. You have managed to lock yourself out of your apartment that you moved in about two weeks ago, by the way, and as your landlord has so kindly bestowed upon you the singular contact, called the locksmith about three times.

There is only one other apartment on your floor and your sweet old lady neighbor has gone to the countryside to live with her grandson for the month, leaving you all on your own. Your day had been exhausting at work already and you had put all your hopes into getting home and numbing the pain away with takeout and binge-watching. You clutch your phone tighter in your hand and decide that this is going to be it. You are going to call the locksmith, and you are going to complain, and they are going to listen and come help you in the next ten minutes. The steps are all clear, so you dial the number again.

It's picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello?” the same gruff voice you’d talked to thirty minutes ago answers.

“Uh, Hi, I had called earlier, about losing my apartment key? Mr. Choi’s building?”, you rush out the words as fast as possible.

“Oh yeah, someone will be there with you shortly.”, the man replies, you distinctly hear the sound of a baseball game in the background. The man gulps something on the other end and mutters, “You need to relax a little, lady. There is no need to get your panties all up in a bunch, have patience.” He burps and the line disconnects.

“Motherf-”, you whisper to no one but yourself. Did this random guy just try to “little girl” you? What has the world come to? Who talks to other people like that? Isn’t he supposed to be doing a service for you? All men have, is the audacity. This world is a rotten cesspool filled with misogynists and bigots and- oh my god you need a coffee. Right now.

So you decide to do that, any potential help arriving to get your door opened be damned. You have waited for them to show up for hours, they can wait for a few minutes for you. You make your way down the two flights of stairs and walk out of the building. There is a cafe on this block you haven’t had the time to check out yet and every time you walked past it on your daily morning commute, it was always closed. You make your way to the cafe, bracing yourself against the cool fall wind by pulling your coat closer.

As you approach the entrance of the cafe, it looks pretty standard. You see a beautiful wooden carved sign that indicates the cafe is open. You push open the door and the sweet aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked items engulfs you like a warm blanket. You look around to see the cafe looks much more posh on the inside than you expected it to be.

The walls are painted pink, some covered by ceiling-length artsy mirrors. There are a few round tables on the checkered tiled floor, with inviting plush chairs and a flower vase each as the centerpiece. From the ceiling hang off a few ambient lights and ceiling flowers in pink, white, and lilac, making the entire aesthetic of the interior pretty and bright. Some plants that look well taken care of and books on a few shelves, stacked neatly.

“Are you waiting for me to walk you in, beautiful?” a man’s voice spoke from beside you, pulling you out of your daze. You turn around and face the source of the voice with a stern gaze only to be met with the face of the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. You open your mouth and close it right back up again as you stare at him. He isn’t just pretty, this man is gorgeous… like ‘I should only exist on the pages of a fashion magazine’ gorgeous. He gives you a dazzling smile and extends his hand for yours, bowing slightly to you.

“Ah! I haven’t even introduced myself to you. That’s on me. I am Kim Seokjin. It would be my pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am the owner of this cafe.” Seokjin, as you’ve learned, looks at you expectantly, his smile not falling once.

You give him your name and manage to put your hand in front of you. He promptly takes it in his and raises it to his pillowy lips, brushing them on your knuckles with a soft brush. “You have such a sweet name,” he speaks against your knuckles, and looks up to meet your eyes to add, “I feel like I could say it all my life.”

This guy is throwing you for a loop. He is too good-looking and by the looks of what he is wearing, too expensive and- why can’t you seem to look away from his eyes? That thought is enough to bring you back to your surroundings as you feel heat rush up your face. “I wanted a coffee.” You sound dumb even in your head but Seokjin only smiles at you.

“Of course, pretty. Here, let me help with your coat.” Seokjin moves behind you, gently pulling your coat off of you with a hum. Your eyes wander towards the register area of the cafe and lock with the barista behind the counter. He gives you a smile and you can hear violins playing in the background.

“Feel free to walk in, I will just put your coat away and join you in no time.” Seokjin speaks from beside you, and you nod as you step in and towards the cute barista. His smile widens and it looks like the world’s worth of warmth is on his face.

“Hi there! What can I get for you?” he asks you, placing his palms on the counter and leaning in. “I am hoping you like sweets so that we can share some.” his giggles punctuate the end of his sentence as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Um, what do you recommend…?”

“Hoseok. It’s my name.” he looks at you through his lashes. You feel like you can see his eyes sparkling. A moment of silence passes between you before he is bouncing on his heels and snickering at you. “You are so cute! I am not saying I am the recommendation, silly! I am just giving you my name so I can have yours. We are going to be friends, right?”

You find yourself grinning and nodding as you tell him your name. His face lights up even further if that is even possible, and he recommends to you the name of a few drinks and even more sweet baked goods. He is giggling with you when he scribbles your order in his notepad and adds little doodles around the words. You spy little stars and smiley faces that fill the cover of his tiny notepad.

“You should go sit, I will send someone with the order to you. Then we can share something and play together!” Hoseok points you in the direction of a table as he is skipping toward a door behind him, which you assume is the kitchen. You turn and walk to the nearest table to take a seat.

You notice there is a little metallic card holder next to the flower vase on the table. You pick it up to inspect it. It's a tiny welcome menu for the cafe, which is not a card but a small flip book. When you turn it over on the front, it reads “Bangtan Host Club™”. Curiously, you flip through the contents of the pages and you notice there are pictures of Hoeseok and Seokjin on the inside along with a small paragraph about their interests.

That’s strange. Why are the employees’ personalities displayed in such a way? Sure, some places do ‘employee of the month’ type events but this seems like an exaggeration. Maybe this place just does them this way. Still, it feels pretty random to you.

“Do you like one of us?” A snicker breaks you out of your engrossment. You blink up as a chair quickly scrapes the floor next to you on your left.

“She doesn’t have to pick one of us. She can have more, right, pretty girl?” A voice from the seat chimes in. You whip your head towards it and come face to face with a man with the face of an angel but a smile that tells more about him than it should. You hear the chair on your right scraping the floor next and you turn your head just in time to see a second beautiful man sitting in it with his chest pressed to the back and his legs spread on either side of the chair. He looks into your eyes and a playful smile plays on his lips.

When your eyes linger on him too long, you are met with a complaint. “Stop hogging all of her attention, Hyung! I wanna talk to her too!” You turn your head back to your left and see the man from before, now leaning his elbow on the table and resting his temple on his knuckles. He smiles at you when you turn and he looks an awfully lot like a bunny. “I am Jungkook. He is Taehyung. Now you have to tell us your name.” He lifts an eyebrow at you, tilting his chin down with a grin.

Taehyung pushes a loose strand of your hair behind your ear when you tell them your name to get you to look at him. When you turn to face him you notice he is leaning in closer to you than before. He simply smiles at you as you feel goosebumps ignite on the back of your neck and arms. “Sensitive, huh?” Taehyung teases as his tongue peeks out of his mouth subtly but enough to pull your attention to his soft lips.

“She is! She is so shy too. Why don’t you talk to us…?” Jungkook draws out his sentence as you feel him leaning into your left side. If you keep turning your head between the both of them like this, you are surely going to get whiplash but you can’t help it when Jungkook is tracing a finger on your arm where the goosebumps are as if he can sense them under the material of your shirt.

“Wh-what is going on?” you ask, confused beyond belief at the stuttering of your heart in your chest.

“Tae, Jungkook, give the girl some room to breathe, please.” A soft voice breaks you out of whatever spell those two had you under. A new person walks around to sit across the table from you. He is so elegant in his movements that you are instantly captivated by him and then he gives you a soft smile that makes his eyes turn into little crescent moons. “Sorry about them, they get carried away sometimes. My name is Jimin. It’s so nice to meet you.”

You feel an air of relief flood your veins at his comforting smile and the way he looks at you so earnestly. You give him a shaky smile. “It's nothing. I am just a little confused.”

“Hyung, I can't believe that you, of all people, are doing this right now. You broke all of the tension we created with her and now she is just confused and not charmed like she is supposed to be.” Jungkook pouted at Jimin with Taehyung nodding vehemently in agreement.

“If she is confused, what are you charming her for? Just give her some space to be comfortable.” Jimin says with a sense of compassion for you and brings his warm gaze back to you. “Did you order a drink yet? Want me to get you the menu?”

As if right on cue, the door from the kitchen swings open, harder than probably necessary, and a man holding a tray of your order walks out. He is tall, well-built, has a strong gaze, and is absolutely beautiful. He places your order in front of you gently and gives you a nod.

“Thank you.” You smile at him and he returns yours with one of his own. You notice he has dimples. It makes your damn heart swoon. Then he turns his attention to Taehyung and Jungkook and reaches down to pull the chairs they are sitting on just a little bit away from you like it was nothing to him.

“Thanks, Namjoon Hyung. I would do that too if I could.” Jimin nods appreciatively at him which is returned in kind with a nod and a gentle smile.

“What we all should be grateful for is that Namjoon Hyung didn’t pull her whole chair up in the air like that one time with Hobi Hyung.” Taehyung chides which is instantly met with a stern gaze by both Namjoon and Jimin.

“Ugh, who cares about all of that.” Jungkook intervenes and focuses back on you. “I have never seen you before. What brings you here?” he adds and brings the attention of the other three back on you as well.

“I am locked out of my apartment and the locksmith won’t show up. I live on this block. Mr. Choi’s building?” You reply and it surprises you that you had forgotten all about the terrible day you had before you’d entered this cafe. You take a sip of your drink and it feels like heaven down your throat. You feel your muscles losing all the tension they held and you close your eyes for a moment and let the caffeine seep in your blood. “This is delicious.” you mutter mostly to yourself.

“So you are technically our neighbor.” Jimin says as he leans back in his chair. His unwavering gaze focused on you. “What did the locksmith say? How long will they take?”

“I don’t know. He keeps saying someone will be there soon, but I’ve waited for more than two hours outside my apartment and nobody came.” You know you are complaining to strangers but you're just so mentally and physically exhausted that it feels nice that someone is listening to you for once.

“I could fix that for you.” Namjoon speaks for the first time since being there and his voice is so deep yet gentle that you think this must be what listening to those online guided meditations your Dad listened to be like.

“Wait, are you serious?” you question him.

“Mhm,” he nods. His words soft and almost shy as they come out. “I can help.”

The sense of relief you feel might just be better than the drink you’ve been sipping. You could imagine the warmth of your fuzzy blankets and soft bed. You look up at Namjoon and nod eagerly. “Please, if you really can, I would be so grateful.”

Both Taehyung and Jungkook stand up, grinning ear to ear. “Lead the way, my lady.” Taehyung bows before you and is unceremoniously elbowed in his side by Jimin immediately for his offense. You walk out of the cafe, huddled between the warmth of four men you just met, the jacket you walked in with long forgotten.

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soraviie · 1 year

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you assume it's unrequited.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: largely angst, some fluff; reader has a crush but thinks that it's one-sided — it's not

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ read the continuation in "pining for you.txt"

━ leave behind a comment or I'll stab you with chopsticks

NAMJOON | The routine itself is quite simple. The rules to be observed are only five — it leaves enough leeway to mold oneself should problematic situations arise.

Rule no. 5: don't accept any gifts.

It's the fact of nature really — humans love gifts. Like corvids, people adored their shiny little trinkets and it is a well-known fact that giving someone something makes them feel special. Adored. But since you couldn't be either of those things, it helped to cut any straying thoughts right in the bud. Hence when he offers to get a cup of coffee from the aggravatingly chique brewery across the street you decline and make a quick stage left.

Which conveniently segways to rule no. 4.

Rule no. 4: no lingering around.

The job is thankful in that way — there's always something to do. Whenever you see his silhouette from the corner of the eye which is not exactly hard — he is big — you flee to safety. If he somehow manages to round the exact same hallway you're in and tosses a hand into the air in lieu of a greeting whilst handing out one of those unfairly charming, dimpled smiles, you follow the rule and as such return a simple nod of recognition, hastily heading the other way.

Should he enter the same room, you're quick to grab anything near and dig deep into a dark corner where inevitably you grow invisible. It's a big company — there's always spaces to hide and you're just another nobody.

Safe to say you never pass him messages or even go near his studio. That can be left to your colleagues who are far more enthusiastic about doing that sort of thing.

Rule no. 3: no conversations.

That is...easy. You think.

"Hi!"

You lifted your head from where your hands were trembling around the paper forms. You regarded him with a blank stare, surprised that not only he'd chosen to talk to you out of all the dozens of people buzzing around the room but also that he was gracious about your lack of friendly disposition.

"Hello," you rasped back, becoming acutely aware of the way everyone is staring.

"You must be new," he remarked, casually plopping down to, for some inexplicable reason, sit next to you, breathing a deep sigh of content. For a second his thigh grazed yours — you shirked away.

"S'pose."

There was a steady pause of silence in which you both just...were.

"You have to write-"

"I know what I have to do."

The finger that previously so helpfully was pointing out at the blank space in the registration form froze mid air. You darted your gaze far away from his unsure, inquisitive stare, tightening your grip around the thin and otherwise helpless paper.

"I'm sorry. What I mean is...I've worked here for three years now — it's just been remote. So I know what to do I'm just..." you laid a palm on your chest — where the bubble was. The bubble that makes it hard to breathe and pressed down on your ribs with such terrible strength your vision grew hazy.

"I think I'm having a panic attack."

Yeah, it was easy to not have a conversation with him afterwards. He must be just as embarrassed as you — what with catching you as you collapsed on the floor just seconds after the first greeting.

Rule no. 2: no touching.

For the most part it's easy to observe. You don't want to be in the same room with him, let alone touch him but sometimes he's just so friendly. If once upon a blue moon you have the misfortune of being stuck with him, you've taken note of how often he reaches to pat you on the back, attempts to carry your things, accidentally bumps into you on those short walks between one location to the next. However, by now you're a professional and you evade all of those damning times of contact with mannered ease.

It is only rule no. 1 that gives you trouble. It's difficult to not think about Kim Namjoon. Not only because his face is splattered across half the world's billboards but because it is Kim Namjoon and oftentimes after long hours of dutifully observing all the other rules, you lay vapidly on the bed and break the one that mattered the most. Too much you think about him and too much time is given to dreams that would never, ever come true.

"Hey, _____________."

You jolt at the sound of another's voice, especially since the room should be empty. As you uncrane your neck from the cramped position by the router on the floor, you find Kim Namjoon poking his somewhat unkempt head through the door. And Kim Namjoon finds himself standing yet again in front of you , breaking all the rules he put between him and the danger that is you. He has no viable reason for asking everyone your whereabouts and then coming here where he confirmed you'd be. There's no merit in him checking the status of HYBE's malfunctioning router but very selfishly he clings even to this most pathetic excuse — if only to take a glimpse at you.

"Hello," diplomatically, you bid back. "The uh...cable is broken."

As a means of an evidence that no one asked for, you wave the plastic around.

"I'll go ask Haejun. She has a shit-ton of spares.''

"We can—" but before he could even reach out to grab onto you, to make you linger around just a little bit longer for the sake of his horrid selfishness, the doors are already closing behind you.

"—go together..." Namjoon lets the sentence finish in the dissatisfied silence fallen over the room.

YOONGI | It should be societally acceptable for one, on occasion, to smash their fucking head against the fucking wall. Though you've turned away from him by now, in such as fast motion there's a definite possibility of your spinal disk rupturing, the disgusting act has been caught and observed. He's caught you looking. Leering. He must be repulsed. You put back the money you've been counting for the last five minutes and with a quiet mutter to a coworker excuse yourself to the back-alley.

"Ah, I don't want to be around that gangster," she cries pathetically, spotting the black haired man at the far end of the counter. Whiskey. Top shelf. A double. The first time you glimpsed him sipping 43% proof alcohol with the ease a child would a juice box, you cursed heavens above — men such as that inevitably acted vile afterwards. Cursing, being loud, groping — it'd just be more headache for you but he was surprisingly different. As if having been aware of the ill suspicion you've been harboring, once he was done, the man brought his glass back, bowed politely and quietly rasped a thank you about your hospitality.

To this day you had no idea whether it was meant genuinely or not.

"He's not a gangster," tiredly, you cut back. Even if he was, he was a polite one. "Just pour him his whiskey when he asks and that's it."

Her lips thin from the nerves as she examines him. His hair is longer now but in her eyes it probably doesn't soften the least bit of his features. In the end, she relents and her harpy like fingers let go of your elbow. Pouting, you rub the sore flesh but quickly leave. You think he's still looking at you, no doubt judging you for slobbering.

"What?" you mutter to yourself grumpily, climbing down the poor lit staircase that led to the reeking trash bins outside. "It's not a crime to have a crush on someone."

Ah, you're a pervert, you groan in your mind, kneeling down the wall. One of these days you'll have to scratch your manager's eyes out in order to get a chair.

You fish out the pack of cigarettes from the apron and in the singular beat between one second and the next, someone speaks right next to you:

"Care to share?"

You scream and almost fling yourself into the trash all while the black haired man looks down upon you.

The first drops of rain begin to fall down on your face and you squint on the automated instinct to protect your eyes.

In his hand he's got a cigarette of his own and you scramble to get the lighter working, cringing at the shooting ache as you press it against your rubbed off skin.

"Here," you outstretch the flame towards him. He hums appreciatively and leans down, briefly putting his much larger palms over yours to stabilize the fire. You hiss in pain.

"Sorry. My hands are rough, I know," he grouses and you shake your head mutely. Jesus fucking Christ on a bike. Even just standing next to him knocks the breath out of your lungs.

"No...it's not that. Your hands are nice," your face scrunches up. "I mean they're fine."

He regards you with a slightly lopsided smirk. You cough and take a drag out of the cigarette.

"These things are not good for health, you know," he shuffles a bit, shoes scuffing against the grey pavement below. They're really shiny and now that you could focus on anything besides his cruelly handsome face, you take in the fact the fact that he was actually wearing a suit. Curious.

"You're smoking as well," defensively, you spit back and sagely, he inclines his head.

"I'm trying to quit. Unsuccessfully. Clearly," he snorts to himself, lips widening into arid, mirthless grin. You think your guts just rearranged themselves. What's happening here, currently, was the smell of the trash leaking into the bins, the cool air blowing a trail of goosebumps up your arm. Your legs are aching, somewhere down your spine there is a yet unidentified pain and both of you smell like smoke and still you've never seen a man so beautiful, despite the grody settings.

"Why you're wearing a suit today?" just at the last second you manage to bite your tongue to not call him sir. For all intents and purposes he's still a costumer. Had your manager heard of you smoking by the trash with one of the most high-paying patrons, she'd drown you in the very bin juice but this doesn't feel...forced. He doesn't feel like a customer and you don't feel like just another person in customer service.

"Are you killing someone?" you tease further, testing the edges and luckily he responds in earnest — dropping his head back and howling a mute laughter into the night.

"No, nothing so dramatic," he chuckles. "I had a...corporate event. Of sorts."

"You don't look like an office drone," you drawl, for the first time actually taking him in. That is, without the leering. As a bartender, over a time a certain kind of knowledge builds. You've seen what the poor wear, what the middle class wears and what the rich wear, and this man was certainly well-off. His suit, though nothing extravagant, is well-fitted and the material is expensive. No one of that stature would ever fit inside a cubicle.

"That's cause I'm not. Say, you don't watch a lot of TV, do you?" even in the piss-poor lighting of the foul alleyway, his eyes glimmer with barely hidden amusement. It plays on the corners of his lips as though he was trying his hardest to not smile.

"No, I don't..." you frown. "Why?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I actually like it that way."

"Ah, shit," you drag the last smoke from the cigarette before throwing it away. "Sara always said you were into shady shit. Shame she was right."

"Sara...that's the little girl, right? One whose scared of me?"

"Mmm," you hum in agreement.

"That's good."

As your eyebrows knit together in confusion, he also puts out the cigarette with a side of yet another teasing smirk. By this point, you were growing accustomed to it. Seeing it, however, not be unfazed by it.

"I much more like you. Well," he claps his hands together, the sound falling a bit too loud in the otherwise quiet back alley. "I've got to get going. Will you be working tomorrow?"

"Uh...yeah," dumbly, you respond and the nameless man looks mighty pleased.

"Good. See ya."

He turns to walk away, leaving you alone and befuddled by the backdoor only to lean back as though he suddenly remembered something.

"These are bad for you," his hand snatches the pack of cigarettes shamelessly out of your grasp and only then he deems it fit to make an exit.

JIN | "Look, the love of your life is walking over!"

"Shut the fuck up."

It's 8:30 in the morning and the sun is already scorching. You've gotten off an eight hours flight and somehow you're still hangover. To be less verbose — you're not putting up with any bullshit. And your friend cooing in the ear the second they saw Seokjin climbing out is very much the situation you're far too grumpy to tolerate.

"I'm heading to the forest," you toss over your shoulder, making a hasty beeline to the other part of the shore where the dunes laid quiet and unperturbed. The second you're in their embrace, the tension leaves your body.

By now everyone and their mother knew of the gargantuan and utterly mortifying crush you had on Seokjin. To this day they continued to humor it in the same way they did when you were younger.

"Ahh, look, Jinnie, little ___________ has a crush on you! They even made a card!"

And because you were fourteen and it was a time of great hormones, and you'd still rather kill yourself than ever reveal to older Kim Seokjin outright that you liked him, to everyone's shock, Jin's in particular, you ate the paper card in front of him, growling in between the stiff, glittery bites that obviously you meant a different Seokjin. Seokjin who obviously went to your school even though no one could ever verify his presence.

It's been years and by now you're well out of middle-school but the pathetic squeezing of your heart whenever you saw him, whenever you found yourself in the center of his focus has not yielded. How many years will this continue to drag on? Will he need to be married for this to relent?! With kids?! Dead?!?

With a pitiful groan, you let your forehead hit the dry bark of the nearby tree.

"Ah, fuck."

"Always such a potty mouth."

Anyone else might have taken a glimpse at Jin and pronounced that there was some truth to children's stories where selfless, glamorous princes rode about. While Jin is decidedly not a horse (he could barely even walk as the sand proved to be quite an obstacle), he does look like a prince — carrying a blanket and a small, mysterious bag.

"You get so cold quickly," he half-heartedly scolds, tossing the blanket your way. "Why even come here?"

"You get cold as well," irately, you point out, tugging the fleece around your bare shoulders. Only then you did notice that you were actually freezing.

"I came prepared," carelessly, Jin replies, yanking from some invisible space yet another blanket. "I might be devastatingly handsome but I'm not a bimbo."

"Shame. I happen to like bimbos."

At this point you're just saying shit.

Jin blinks and then with the sincerity of a well-seasoned actor, regards you with a confused stare, face mere millimetres away from yours.

"What do you call a fish wearing a bowtie?"

Nervously, your eyes flit all around his face as you inadvertently swallow from the abrupt proximity.

"I don't know," breathlessly, you answer. "What?"

"Sofishticated!"

Well, good news was that if he kept going like this, your pervading illness will be cured.

"Sofishticated! Get it, because it's like sophisticated..."

You leave him standing there, shouting across the dunes.

"Hey, Ji-Yeong told Cindy to tell Eun-Sook to tell Riri-"

Over the loud roar of the working stove, you attempt to clean your eyes free from the onion and give your friend a good yell.

"GET TO THE POINT!"

"JIN IS LOOKING FOR YOU! HE WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!"

And because you're a brave, self-sufficient person of 21st century you pretend not to hear and whenever you see a glimpse of shoulders too broad to be on anyone else but him, you run and hide.

You know exactly what he wants to talk about and thus you'd rather, much rather, with a smile on your face in fact, chew your fucking toe off. Because as stupid as you were now, you were infinitely more stupid last summer. The summer during which you got so plastered on tequila the night ended with you confusing very much real, warm-blooded sentient Jin for a cutout. A cutout which you clung onto like a mad person and proceeded to reveal that innermost layer of your heart and how much it was devoted to one very annoying millennial.

It took a lot of pasta and drinking to have the confidence to leave your home once the initial stage of wanting to rot into the sofa ebbed away. You weren't necessarily keen on repeating that week thus the running away. But you also think Jin has caught onto the games and is growing increasingly frustrated with them.

Jin wants to see you, Jin is asking for you, Jin is stopping by and so on and on and on. By now his name doesn't even sound like a word. Even so you keep the charades going, praying for the first time in your life that you could go back to work.

The time is a bit over one in the night. For the most part everyone is sleeping which leaves the back garden of the house you rented near the beach quiet and docile. From here you can hear the waves crashing and for now it's enough to create a piece of your paradise.

"Didn't I tell you that you get too cold easily?"

Cold shivers run up your spine and you quickly swallow, whipping around. The expression on Jin's face is less than impressed.

"Well, hence, I'll be going," you gift a fake smile but quickly stop when you hear what you've never ever heard before.

Jin being angry.

"Stay where you are."

He's not by any means shouting, not even raising his voice in the slightest but the tone leaves not a single space for discussion to take place.

"Sit down."

You do and sternly he watches you do so, eyebrows coming together to create a deep frown. You search for any sign of this being a prank or another one of his jokes but you don't find any. Just him standing and being fed up.

"Now, let us have that talk about last summer."

HOSEOK | It doesn't matter if both of you were adults. He was still your student and you were still his teacher. It didn't matter whether he insisted on you or not, you still should have said no and referred Hoseok back to Marina. She was a better English tutor anyhow even if he very much disagreed.

"Mr Jung, please understand, I am quitting. How can I continue to teach you if I'm not even a teacher?"

His knuckles were white around the edge of the table to which he clung to as you leisurely piled your things into boxes. These two years were good, just not good enough to stay.

"Marina is horrible," he complains, the sound falling a bit muffled through the mask but its quality of desperation is not reduced. "Please, you can't just leave! Not with all of the progress we've made!"

A bit of clunky choice of phrasing if you had to say because what progress did you make? Was it the progress of being indifferent, to growing shy around him, to dreaming about him in the middle of all the lonely nights only to then choke on all those fantasies? Because if it was that progress, it would do you some good to leave. Would do you both some good.

"_______________, please, make an exception?" he pleaded, eyes sparkling and you had felt your resolve breaking even then. "For me? Your favourite Hobi?"

With your walls falling apart, you hadn't even noticed how casually he'd referred to you.

"Stop bouncing your knee," Marina growls underneath the nose as she sips on the coffee. Her exam materials are displayed haphazardly on the table before her, littered with large crumbs of her banana and hazelnut croissant.

"I can't help it," you retort just as morose, nervously eyeing the clock pinned to the wall.

12:01 — he should be done by now.

"You're so in love with him," Marina rolled her eyes, striking a bold red line across one student's essay. 4/100. Rough.

"It's my job as a teacher to make sure he passes his tests," you brittle venomously. "If I don't-"

Before you could so much as finish your sentence, a pair of judgmental eyes sit transfixed upon your face in a heated glare.

"You're not a teacher anymore. You quit and tutor him entirely unofficially," Marina interrupts curtly. "So the excuse of it being that is redundant if anything. Moreover, he's a whole ass grown man. He certainly doesn't need someone like you to fret over him."

Just then your phone dings with an unread message causing both of your eyes to fall on top of it.

"Your prince Charming is calling," she states coldly. "Go ahead and pick up."

You don't think you'll ever hang out with Marina after this.

Hoseok 💗 sent you a message.

The heart he'd added himself, chiding you one night for assigning such a cold contact info.

Hoseok 💗: I PASSED! I KNOW IT! I'VE NEVER FELT SO CONFIDENT! 😻💓〇(＞∀＜)〇

me: I told you you could do it and you didn't believe in yourself ( ￣＾￣)

Hoseok 💗: hahaha yes o great teacher you've always been so supportive! thank you! ( ♥‿♥)

Then after a moment comes the last message.

Hoseok 💗: thank you, __________________.

As your phone grows dark, you see your own reflection — the giddy smile, the lovesick eyes. The pathetic, eager nature that is you around Hoseok. For a second you let yourself be and let your hand press the phone to your chest as if the meaningless emojis and hearts actually signified anything other than the cursory respect he had for you as his tutor. Then you gather yourself.

If Hoseok will pass his test, he'll be technically viewed as fluent and as such you will be of no use anymore.

You wipe the grin of your face, slip the phone in your pocket and walk back home, pretending that none of this is hurting you.

JIMIN | "Stay still," you scold him, immediately receiving a pout in return.

"I am staying still!" he whines.

Though you roll your eyes, you don't argue anymore and continue to measure his neck. If he wanted to layer his necklaces, you'll have no choice but to measure every chain's length to its absolute nanometer. If they overlayed too much it'd just be a mess and Jimin deserved nothing but the best.

"Now, remember, this is the bag for my jewelry," you remind him sternly, waving the grey pouch just before escorting him to the door. The night is deep. Ever since you wound up having Park Jimin as a regular client your sleep schedule has been wrecked. Thinking about the wording, you cringe, cutting a finger against one of the waywardly left awls on the table. Had your old teacher saw the mess on your workstation, the old crow would probably smack you across the face.

Hissing at the sharp prick, you cradled the hand with a juicy curse on the tongue. Jimin, who'd previously been seconds away from falling asleep (which has happened. Safe to say, having an idol drooling on your couch was awkward, just not as awkward as the morning that followed), yanks his head towards you with laser like focus.

"Show me," he insists, expectantly holding out his palm so that it can join yours. You regard it with a passive stare before taking a step back.

"It's just a cut on a finger," you brush him off, coughing from the abruptly stifled atmosphere gripping your lived-in studio. Jimin appears to be quite displeased. One of the simultaneous advantages and disadvantages of being so close to your models for such an extended time was that by the end of it you knew all of their micro-expressions like the back of your hand. From the tightened way his jaw sat to the coldness in his gaze — he was angry. Jimin was a bit like an April day in that way — always surprising you. Was it good or bad, you did not quite know.

"Here, take this," you outstretched the pouch, sucking a bit on the pricked finger. His eyes seemed to linger there before he averts his gaze, taking the bag with his jewelry.

"You look beautiful in them."

Was it a low blow? Perhaps. But it felt somewhat uneasy, problematic even to let him leave your studio in a huff. With the oncoming release of his album he was already stretched taut. You were half surprised he hadn't yet hit a complete mental breakdown by now. Just following his schedule as a jeweller made your hairs grow grey. Still, as expected the compliment mellows the bout of his sudden attitude.

"Eyyy," he complains, tad cautiously. You weren't after all friends, however, the borders of the proper behaviour became blurred the second he showed up on your doorstep outside both of his company's knowledge or permission. As far as you understood it, he actually sponsored your work out of his own pocket. You could recall that night in fine detail — having a national treasure known as Park Jimin sipping a tea out of cracked cup and asking you to create pieces for him. How he'd came to know of you, he did not reveal and after a while you ceased asking.

"You always do this," he continues, rousing you out of deep though.

"Do what?" innocently, you blink up at him. "I've committed no wrongdoing."

"You always compliment me," he pouts, scuffing the sole of his slipper against the floor. They were in the shape of large fluffy cows. You'd offered him a change but since this pair was given to him on that first meeting, he insisted he'd grown fond of them.

"You know how much I like compliments..."

That you did. Once in a while you let them slip a bit too liberally which is something you'd sincerely need to work on. Having a crush on Park Jimin, unrequited one at that, would anyhow lead to nothing. It was simply futile.

"I can't ever stay mad at you."

"Sorry, for being too charming," you flip a strand of non-existent hair over your shoulder prompting a peel of loud, disbalanced laughter. "Now, this is the bag for my jewelry. Don't mix them up with the one you're supposed to wear for Tiffany which by the way..." you narrow your eyes at him. "Traitor."

Still laughing he pats down your head, eyes crinkling in that expression of pure happiness that you adored to see so much.

"Babyyyy, don't be mad. You're still my favourite one."

Had you not been so irrevocably and disgustingly fond of this man you would have kicked him for making your heart feel like this.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you groused, taking his hand away from your head. "Now go. Good night."

"Can't I crash here?" he pleads, shifting eagerly on the spot. "It's so late at night..."

"And whose fault is that?" you arch an eyebrow pushing at Jimin's back to get him out of your doorstep. "Rich man goes home and sleeps in his rich man bed."

Sensing an easy target in your words, Jimin gleans over his shoulder, his broad smirk proudly on display.

"Does rich man have to be alone?"

"Bye!"

You watched him secretly behind the broken, off white blinds of your kitchen window. The alleyways in this part of the town are narrow, only barely could Jimin's car make way. It's no surprise that no matter what time it is, it attracts the curious glances of your neighbours. The old man at unit 4b across the road was also looking in — the shitty blue tinted light of his crap ass apartment makes his silhouette glaringly apparent in the window. You scowl at him and for a good measure throw up a bird before accompanying Jimin with your eyes. Happily he gets into the car and drives back home where he'll be safe. Now you can rest easy. Somewhat.

"Good night, Jimin," you whisper into the darkness where the only other company you had was the ever-present droning of your old fridge.

TAEHYUNG | Leaning against your hand and watching him speak you think of everything and simultaneously of nothing at all. Though it was not a crime to fall in love with your friend, it very much felt that way sometimes. Times like these when you fantasized how would it feel to hold his hand or to hug him. Not that you didn't know how that felt like. If he could, Taehyung would crawl and make a home in your ribs but he didn't understand. He didn't understand the...spectrum of love you harboured for him. From where he looked onto it the hues were all blue whilst you were far too red.

Red, as you discovered, was not that good of a colour.

"________________? You're not even listening to me, are you?"

Blinking owlishly, you stirred in the seat. The screaming ache in your muscles offers proof to how long you'd been staring at him. Pathetic. You shift your eyes away from the mix of frustration and worry in the browns of his eyes and instead let it sit where's it safe — on the impersonal linoleum cover of the cheap dumpling bistro.

"I was listening," you mumble hazily. "You were...taking Yeontan...for a grooming session, no?"

He sighs.

"Actually I said Jungkook was bitching in my voice mails about having to get a haircut. Are they the same for you?"

You think about it.

"I plead the fifth?"

In spite of it only prompting a thoroughly sassy eye roll from the nominee of 2022 MAMA song of the year, he doesn't much complain, though stuffing his face full of noodles, he does ask. You would rather he didn't.

"What's wrong with you lately? You've been...spaced out."

To feign ease you don't dream of having, you snort.

"Look whose talking."

"Exactly," smartly, he agrees still chewing somewhat aggressively. "If I notice, you know it's bad."

Averting your gaze away once more, you shrug.

"It's nothing serious."

"You sure? 'Cause I was thinking maybe you felt...lonely?"

The so-thin-it's-almost-transparent menu in between your fingers freeze as your heart drops down into your stomach.

"What makes you say that?" lightly, presumably lightly, you wonder.

"Dunno," he shrugs, swallowing a bite so large you can see it travelling down his throat. How he had not yet choked was beyond any science. "It's just you've got no pets, no friends beside me and your place is always quiet so it's safe to say you're absolutely dry in the dating apartment."

Your lips purse in an expression of such pure, unfiltered annoyance that for once it doesn't go above his head. Awkwardly, he coughs, shrinking smaller underneath the gaze of your fury.

"Thank you Taehyung," dryly, you praise him. "That's just what I needed."

"Sorry."

Were you lonely? Probably. Who are you kidding? Naturally.

Exhaling into the black winter air, you watch as the miniature clouds colour white before melting into the night. Did you love Taehyung because you were simply...lonely? Could be. Over the years he was the only one who stayed by your side. Even when you did the most to make him leave, so you wouldn't taint him with your...broken-ness, all too obstinately he'd weathered the storms out. He'd not leave you, that was the end of it. Such he promised and such was the promise he kept, no matter what life or yourself threw at him.

As the gust of biting wind rips through the street, you pitifully tremble in its hold. Shit, why was it always so cold.

"Ah, fuck, my ass is going to freeze off," Taehyung curses, coming to stand beside you just outside of restaurant. He still has a soy sauce in the corner of his lip and without much thinking you wipe it off.

You're both grasping for words.

"My hand is cold," he suddenly complains, swinging on the back of his heels.

"Should have brought gloves then," you retort grumpily. "I certainly don't need you to spend all my hand creams. Again."

He pretends to not see the acussal in your glower.

"I have an idea. Friends help each other out, don't they?"

Suddenly, you find yourself not liking the happy turn of his cheek. That smile paired with that particular glint in his eye always meant trouble. And before you know it, his hand is clasped around yours, the heat of it shooting straight down your entire arm.

"There," happily he chirps, dragging your loudly protesting self down the street. "Now I'm warm and you're not lonely. I see this as an absolute win."

JUNGKOOK | Sure, it was hard to be rendered blind in the middle of a busy street as the sky was dumping down rain with terrible vengeance but you'd still wager a guess it felt better to run head first into a pole than seeing...him.

The light of the billboard pours brightly onto the dark, grey streets below whilst the faceless masses rush to their homes, you included. He stands there, being beautiful, being enticing like a whole dream and mocks you. You can't have him and that's fine but why should you also have the sour memory of his existence be rubbed into the wound.

Droplets of rain steadily fall upon your face though you don't even notice them. Not until you've had your fill of Jungkook.

You hope he's happy somewhere in Seoul.

Coming back home, you set the soaked bags of groceries onto the table, monotonously going through the motions of the day. Many, hell, everyone, would probably say that taking a leave from a high-paying job just to come back home and live an utterly boring life was not the way to go but would they also sympathize with growing depressed about the unrequited love you had for someone who was so far out of the reach, you'd officially have to graduate space flight program in order to ever reach the star that was Jungkook?

No, you don't think so.

Laundry, cooking, laundry, watching TV, laundry. It doesn't offer much reprieve from thoughts about Jeon Jungkook but at least you don't have to look at him and be pathetic. And sure you're miserable but at least somewhat of your dignity is preserved. Even if it's the tiniest, barely existent sliver a man has ever seen.

You don't regret never approaching him. He never went out of his way to say hi, he never so much as glimpsed in your general direction if you were loitering around the room. You remember how hard it was to breathe when the time came to adjust his mic on his chest and you also remember how he'd just sat there, disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. On those rare times you noticed him watching you, there was always a distant gleam in his gaze. He was probably just zoning out and you happened to be there. On those even rarer times that you helped him, he always appeared so unperturbed. He was polite but that was it. Just a polite thank you and long, stretching moments of quiet, that was the only real memory you had of him.

In the end, the whole thing was quite embarrassing and so despite it being abrupt, it felt right to hand in your resignation. He didn't need yet another sick fucker drooling over him....neither did you want to be that person. So why not quit. Why not?

By the time it's evening, you're beyond bored. No TV shows interest you, no movies catch your attention, the span of your focus is too short to read a book and you're too tired to go for a walk. Surely it wouldn't hurt...

When your old computer turns on, it makes itself known. Unlike the sleek, polished versions of HYBE, the surface is so hot it could boil an egg and the sound that comes out of this pre-historic artefact could easily pass off as a roar of a plane. It takes about half an hour for the email to load, so much so that when you come back with a cup of tea, the screen is still suspiciously unresponsive.

Seeing 99+ unanswered messages did not surprise you, what did surprise you was the pile of messages, unanimously sent from one address.

[email protected]

subject: please

The skin on your palms grow wet and you can hardly hear the rain splashing against the window with how hard your heart is beating. Shakily you press to open the email, hardly having the courage to read the words. You've no idea why the subject is named such a way but you're partially sure that somewhere along the way, he's going to call out your affection. How misplaced it is and how much he's disgusted by it. You'd understand if he did.

[email protected]

subject: please

Even if...even if the year we spent together meant nothing to you, that the kindness you extended towards me, that the help you sent my way unknowingly pulling me from a pit of unescapable darkness is nothing but an empty void no more deserving of your attention than the dirt on the side of the road, I beg of you to be gracious once more. Just write to me. Just one letter is all I ask for. No matter what you have to say, should it be something as little as one singular "bye", please, write to me. I'll keep you in my thoughts, forever most likely as you've made your home in them.

Sincerely,

Jeon Jungkook.

tagging: @rmstdio; @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @jminssiii;

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yeoja-dream · 4 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort

Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader

Content Warning: Woman in danger, roofie mention

Word Count: 3,500

It was a miserable fucking night. Granted it had also been a miserable fucking day, The rain had come down in sheets all throughout the day and well into the night, bringing the temperature down considerably. It was certainly summer, but as your thigh-high boot clicked against the wet sidewalk, you swore you could see your breath.

I just had to fucking go out. You grumbled internally, shivering in your mini skirt and leather coat. It should have been plenty warm enough for a summer night, but even the weather seemed to be flipping you off today. Let’s just get black-out drunk, hook up with a stranger, and forget today ever happened. You hyped yourself up while rounding the corner to your favorite nightclub.

The line was sparse, on account of the rain you supposed. Not that you ever really had to wait in line for this place anyways, you knew all the bouncers and if any gave you a hard time, you’d flash a little cleavage and be on your way.

Despite the minimal line outside, indoors was as lively as any other Saturday night. The DJ tonight was someone local, you overheard, not bad you mused, moving through the crowd to an empty bar seat. Mostly trap beats, but his remixes were decent and the dance floor reflected his musical proficiency.

“Y/N” The bartender, a salt and pepper man in his 40s regarded you warmly. “What will it be tonight?”

“David.” You said back. “I thought you had a date tonight? I was expecting to see Vanessa. Sure the usual.” You slid your card forward, starting your tab.

“You drink so many cosmos we are going to have to start calling you Nebula, you know,” David said, picking up the ingredients to your drink. “Vanessa and I switched. Date bailed. She must have known you were coming in and got jealous,” He added with a wink.

“You flatter me.” You replied. “Nebula is too metal of a knick name for such a girly drink.”

“Eh,” David replied, sliding your glass toward you. “I’ve seen you, you could out-drink any man in this place. Makes me feel bad for your wallet.”

“You and I both.” You said, sipping on the pink liquid. “It’s good. Strong. Make yourself something, it’s on me.”

“And that’s why you are my favorite customer, cheers,” David replied, before sliding off to the other end of the bar, busily helping other patrons.

The bar seats here spun, a trait you always appreciated for easy people-watching. Picking up your drink and swiveling your seat around, you surveyed the crowd like you did most weekends. Mostly, it was boring. You watched them have fun, be messy, get into arguments, meet new friends, new lovers, it was fun, like watching a TV show of what your life could have looked like if things had been different. Some nights you’d spot a creep, someone slipping drugs into drinks or stalking ex-partners and you’d alert the bouncers to kick them out. Some nights you’d chat with someone silver-tongued and deep-pocketed to keep you interested, some nights that person would talk you into bed.

It was cyclical if you had to really psychoanalyze yourself. The theme: unfulfillment, dissatisfaction, and unhappiness. It was easy, much easier anyway, to find comfort in these fleeting, temporary flings, to find purpose in playing superhero and saving a drunk woman from a creep, to find community in the transactional relationships held with people like David. But maybe you were thinking too much about things again, what the hell did you know? You were there, in that nightclub, just like everyone else.

You swiveled around again, signaling to David you were ready for your next cosmo. He had it ready just as soon as you could raise your hand.

“Looks like you got something on your mind tonight. I’ll keep ‘em coming,” David said handing you your next drink.

“Thanks.” You said, taking it from him. “Don’t forget to make something for yourself!” You called after him.

“I love drinking on your dime, don’t worry about me~” He replied with a hand wave.

Before you can turn back to your self-centered musings, a zip of light darted through your periphery. Magic? It had been a minute since you had seen someone else use it, but surely you had to be mistaken right? Why would a place like this have magic?

You snapped and turned to the side, scanning the patrons carefully, but it only took a few seconds to realize who it was who had been casting. A man stood in the corner, tall with dark, masculine features, his shoulders were broad, his chest and torso the perfect V. He wore a plain, dark, fitted t-shirt that showed off large, corded arms. He was the picture of masculinity, attractive by anyone’s standards, and as you regarded him now, he was entirely silhouetted in magic. The silver, translucent aura was unmistakable. Glamour magic.

He had to be an incubus right? The only other creatures capable of glamour magic like that are the tirions, but those were exceptionally rare. You could relate to that. As you pondered the possibilities, you noticed a small, curly-haired blonde woman, undoubtedly human by the way she seemed in awe of this male. You needed to get closer, you decided slipping off your seat and pushing through the bodies until you were in earshot.

“So, why don’t you finish your drink and we can enjoy a few more at my place?” The male voice spoke.

“Well, I - I - I uh, f-f-friend I, uh…” The female voice spoke, a mix of slurred speech and nervous babbling.

Another wave of magic pulsed from him.

“I think we should get out of here, beautiful.” He insisted again.

“I think… that is… okay.” The female replied voice halted, disconnected. Stiffly and robotically you watched her put her drink on the bar top, then equally as robotically begin turn around and begin to exit.

Incubus or tirion, you would be damned if you would let them feed here. You too put your drink down on the bar top and made your way to the exiting couple.

“Hey! Girl we were looking everywhere for you!” You walked right up to the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder. You were admittedly a bit rusty, but your connection to magic was as inherent as the ability to breathe. You called forth your magic from deep in the ground, willing it to run through your body. You could see the magical charm this male held on this woman, and while willing your magic into a sword, you severed the charm.

The woman blinked up at you, dazed and confused. “The rest of us are dancing over here!” You now link arms with the woman, her considerably smaller frame putting into perspective how powerless this woman was to this male. As you begin to walk away with her, the male voice calls out from behind you.

“Hey.” The voice is stern, flat, and deep. More noticeable to you, however, is the overwhelming rush of glamor magic that washes over you. You will your magic up, shielding the smaller woman from its power.

“Hey sorry!” You turn around. “We came out as a girl's night and we wanna keep it that way! No hard feelings!” With that, you pull the woman with you and away, towards the exit.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart. Are those your friends over there?” You ask the woman. She nods in response.

“Come on, let's say goodbye and then I’m going to walk you to a cab.” You lead the woman to her friends, who all in a drunken stupor thank you for taking care of their friend, and forget to ask why it is she needs to leave. It is probably better that way anyway.

You lead the woman out the door, up the stairs, and out into the cold rainy night. You held the umbrella for the two of you, walking in complete silence.

“The taxi rank is around the corner, but this time of night and the weather I’ll bet it's empty, so I’m just going to call ahead.” You said to no one in particular. You weren’t sure if she was really listening, but you felt better saying something.

Sure enough, when you rounded the corner, the taxi rank was completely abandoned.

“Figures,” you grumbled, watching the poor, shivering woman stand next to you while you waited, the sound of the rain hammering on your shared umbrella punctuating your silence. Wordlessly, you shed your leather jacket and place it over her shoulders while you wait, willing the magic from the ground to keep you warm. It was totally against the rules, but hey, it had already been a weird night.

“Do you remember your address?” You asked the woman. She nodded in response.

“Do you have enough money to get home?” Another nod.

“Did you drive to the club?” A shake this time.

She didn’t want to talk, obviously, and another extended silence descended upon the two of you.

The woman broke the silence this time.

“What happened to me?” She asked, voice sounding hollow, hurt, and confused.

“You were roofied.” You replied, matter-of-factly. “The man you were talking to was very bad, which is why I’m making sure you get home.”

“I’ve been roofied before. It didn’t go away in one second. I spent the whole night puking. You touched my shoulder and the fog lifted. Isn’t that crazy?” She spouted off, looking up at you for support answers.

You knew what she was looking for, and yet you couldn’t give it to her. “They’re coming up with new drugs all the time. Maybe this one clears your system crazy fast. I am really sorry this happened to you.” You replied.

“Thank you for helping me.” She replied, and as if ordained by a benevolent ruler, the taxi pulled up. You helped her into the car, wished her a good night, and saw her off before turning on a heel and marching back to that nightclub. You had a bone to pick.

-----------------------------------------------

Where the bumping music of the club before gave the area a cool, hip-hop vibe, now contributed to your fuge state fueled by rage. The male, miraculously, was stood in the same spot, tied up in conversation with another man. An accomplice perhaps, you thought. You’d figure it out as soon as you rocked this dude's shit.

Pushing passed the crowd and shoving the man he was locked in conversation with aside, in a flash you willed your magic up to protect your fist and you let loose the meanest right hook you could muster, for that woman and all the other women you were sure this scum had victimized.

Your fist collided solidly with his jaw, knocking him over and staggering him. You hit him hard enough that the bystanders around you audibly reacted. The male straightened back out, rubbing his jaw in pain. Looking down at you in what could only be described as bewilderment.

“I would say there is a special place in hell for people like you, but you would know something about that, wouldn’t you?” You spit at the male.

“So what if I do?” The male replied, voice rich and baritone. “What’s it to you?”

“There are clubs for people like you.” You replied venemously.

“And you…?” He replied, lifting an eyebrow.

“I am not here looking for prey.” You said, looked at him with a disgusting look. “Just because you can’t hack it in the supernatural clubs doesn’t mean you can just come out to the human clubs looking for easy pickings.”

“Do you condemn the wolf for breaking into the lamb pen? Or do you just understand that the wolf, too, needs to eat?”

“Ask a sheep farmer what he does to wolves in the lamb pen.”

“Is that what you are to them? The farmer? Watching over the little sheep? Or perhaps you are just a little puppy, barking at the big bad predator” He leaned in closer. “There will come a day when your pathetic little yaps won’t be enough to chase away the big bad guy, what will you do then, little puppy?”

“Get. Out.” You said through gritted teeth. “Or so help me I will put you back where you came from.” Rage, pure rage coursed through you, mixed with magic, you felt it zapping and prickling at your skin, your hair standing on edge as if the lighting was about to strike.

“Now now, no need to get so wound up.” He started pushing past you, before stopping to continue. “I was going to hurt you, for taking my dinner. But now, now I hope to meet you again very soon, little puppy.” He finished, walking out the front door, a swagger in his footsteps that made you want to blast him from behind with every bit of radiant damage you could physically muster.

“Hey.” A different male voice snapped you to the present. “You’re going to call attention to yourself. Just accept it.”

Another wave of glamor magic washed over you, a different spell though, a calming one you readily identified having used it before. You allow the stranger's magic in, the new stream slipping in, soothing your breathing, calming your heart rate, and slowing the stream of magic through your body, before exiting.

“You were about to make us all do the electric slide.” The man said with a chuckle. “Sorry, dated reference. I am kind of old.”

“Me too.” You commented, still internally reeling from the events of the last hour. “It was funny, thanks for the hand.” You turned to him, finally. The man who was keeping the incubus engaged. You were calm, but you were still warry. You regarded him more carefully now, he too was exceptionally handsome, but in a less brutalistic way than the incubus was. He was also shorter than the incubus and considerably more lithe in his frame. His baggy streetwear and half up half down hairstyle betrayed a surprisingly strong body, you were willing to bet, however. “With that being said, who the hell are you?”

“That is a complicated question with a complicated answer.” He replied. “I am sure you can relate. Shall we?” He gestured to two conveniently empty seats sitting on the corner of the bar.

“You drink cosmos, right?” He said handing you a pink cocktail. You looked at him incredulously.

“On a normal night, I don’t accept drinks that I didn’t watch David make, after all that what makes you think I’m going to accept this?”

“Oh my god, you are so right. You know what I will drink this don’t even worry about it, I’ll flag the bartender and you order whatever you want and I’ll pick it up.” He replied, pulling the drink back to him.

After a few minutes, David walked up to your end of the bar, regarding the two of you silently.

“What will it be, sir?” David asked the man.

“Whatever the lady will have.”

“Whiskey. Top Shelf.”

“Coming right up, ma’am,” David replied, pouring a glass and sliding it to you. With that, he made himself scarce.

“How do you know the incubus?” You asked the man, keeping your tone flat, disinterested in case they were buddies.

“Not at all, to be frank” He replied, sipping on his Cosmo.

“When I walked in after getting that woman home, you seemed to be engaged in lively conversation with that man.” You said, bemused. “What was it that you were discussing?”

“How we were going to hurt you.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“And how was that?” You asked.

“Well, he was angry when you left with that woman, really angry. I had a feeling that you’d come back and I wanted you to get your revenge, so I placated him with stories of how I would help tear you limb from limb and eat your insides in front of this whole club, the usual.”

“Uh-huh.” You replied, skeptically. “And why should I believe that? Maybe the two of you are waiting to jump me as soon as I leave out that door.”

“Nah, you’d kick my ass.” He replied. “Besides, I have this.” He held up a clear, tear-drop-shaped glass pendant on a cord around his neck. Suspended in the glass were a clear liquid and a red liquid, yin and yang. “Because of this, it is impossible for me to lie.”

“Obviously you are going to have to prove it.” You replied, scoffing and sipping your whiskey.

“Easy.” He replied. “The sky is purp-” Before he could finish, red and blue light pulsed from the pendant, and the man doubled over in pain, grabbing his chest. “Pigs can fl-” and again, before the man could finish the sentence, he doubled over in pain clutching his chest.

“You could have programmed it to react that way with certain voice commands.” You replied back, still skeptical.

“Hard to convince, that’s fair enough.” He replied, shrugging. “Tell me to say something, and I will say it, scouts honor.”

“Okay…” You replied, thinking for a moment. “Tell me I’m ugly,” you said with a smirk.

“You’re ug- ak!” The same reaction as before.

“Thank you I know.” You said, flicking the hair off your shoulder. A devilish smile crept across your face as another prompt crossed your mind. “Say this one and I will believe you.”

“Anything.”

“Say I have a tiny penis.”

He looked at you incredulously, but nonetheless began “I have a tiny pe- ah! Enough please believe me this hurts!”

“Good to know~” you chuckled. “Alright George Washington, what are you doing here anyway? What are you?” You asked him.

“I am a vampire. As for what I am doing here, that question is a bit more difficult to answer.”

“Are you looking for prey? Just like that incubus?”

“What? God. No. I don’t need to look for prey thank you very much. I am very much mated.”

“Mated? But you’re hanging out in a human club?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, start the bigger picture then if the smaller picture is hard. What is your name?”

“Jeon Jungkook. A pleasure.” He extended his hand.

“Y/N. It is steadily becoming a pleasure as well.” you shook his hand. “What brings you to this city, Jeon Jungkook?”

“I live here with my mates,” he replied. “Most of us work in the city, myself included. I sing.”

“Oh wow!” you recoiled in surprise. “What do you sing? Do you perform?”

“No, it's a little hard to be a public persona when your face is never changing, ya know? I do backup vocals and I am the voice behind a few recording artists, some big some small.” He shrugged.

“Some big?” You asked.

“I can’t really talk openly about it. I’ll tell you another time.” He added with a wink.

“Fair enough.” You replied, taking another sip of whiskey.

“I was right behind you, by the way.”

“Hm?” You replied.

“Maybe I should back up a little.” He started. “I’m here, in this human club tonight, because I was called to be. By whom or what I do not know, but I knew I needed to come in. I arrived shortly after you did, I think. You were already drinking at the bar, people-watching. I saw the magic too, and I saw what he was attempting to do to that poor woman. You and I stood up simultaneously.”

“You want a congratulations for thinking about stopping a rapist?” You scoffed at him.

“No. No, I am explaining myself poorly. I am trying to say I had your back. I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” You said, giving him a half cheers with your glass.

“At first I thought that this is what I was called here for, to save you or to dispatch this creep, then I could fuck off home and be the hero. But then I saw how powerful you were. How readily the magic came to you, how you bent it to your will like you were folding paper. It was only then I came to understand, that I think I was called here to meet you. And I am extremely glad I was.”

You glanced at his chest and then, at the pendant hanging on his chest. The light remained dark, and when you slid your gaze up to meet his, there was an intense sincerity there that made you blush and shy away.

“I am not really sure I understand what it is exactly you are getting at.” You state looking down at the melting cubes in your whiskey.

“I think I might, but I will need you to go with me on this one.” --------------------------------------------------------------------- Hi-ya this one has been cooking in my brain for like 3 years so enjoy plz! I am just going to post parts one and two consecutively because fuck it they're finished and the Ritalin hit and so I WROTE. I'm working on Intertwined, I just had to get it straightened out from this story because of their similar themes but we good, let me cook. I will update the tags as WHAT each member of BTS and Y/N as it is revealed but for now, no spoilers eheheh. Put what you think they're going to be below!

#bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 #bts ot7 #ot7 x reader #ot7 x reader smut #poly ot7 #ot7xreader #foundfatedforever

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only-horse-polls · 1 year

Text

Horse Breed Tournament

Round 1 Group 1

Camague Image by eiqus_ (Instagram) --- Fjord Horse Image by stolplyckans_topaz318 (Instagram)

#BT Round 1 #BT Group 1

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mrs-monaghan · 5 months

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there’s so much misinfo going round atm, see lots of people saying that after jk enlists with jm and does the boot camp he can apply for some special ???something and will leave separately where he is stationed or that just because jk / jm are enlisting on same day, they only will do basic training together then go to separate places ? and that they only chose the enlisting together option because it meant they could make sure they were out in time for june ?

ik it’s a bit hard to follow maybe with different sources and not real confirmation but do you know if any of it is true? my understanding was that they did the “enlisting together” scheme thing, (ie. it’s a purposeful application, they knew they were choosing this way) which meant they’ll at least be in same living quarters etc the whole time until they’re out ?

sorry for long Q! it’s ok if you dk it was just confusing D; thank you!

Hi anon. 😳 I am terrible when it comes to the serious stuff and have the attention span of a toddler when such topics arise. My mind registers them as boring and so I don't retain the in4. But my friends delved deep into this so I will gather as much as I can and do my best to explain the sitch

Let me start by correcting the biggest misinformation of them all. Thanks to fucking Mina with her fake subs and reaching conclusions, the vermin are confusing "Special Task Force" with "Special Forces"

JK said he wanted to join special forces. Well and good

But thats not what V is doing. V applied for Special Task Force which, while not easy (he said in the live its why he enlisted there, to challenge himself) its nothing compared to special forces. Special forces is HARD CORE. Its no joke. It's for those who actually want to go to war and proper fight for their country. Not for those fulfilling a mandatory duty... One they wouldn't do if they had the choice. Special forces, those people actually wanna be there. And if u know JK then u shouldn't be surprised that he would say something like this. Of course our dare devil bunny would enjoy joining something as risky as special forces.

But guess what? No one stopped him. He still could have gone there if he really wanted to. Just like in Winter package. No one told him to give up zip lining for beer tasting. He did that off his own volition since Jimin was going beer tasting. JK's happiness is where Jimin is. Period. (Suga's presence played a big part but we don't talk about Yoonmin)

(Edit: the whole thing takes almost 8 years to complete which again, is not something JK would actually do if he wanted to still stay a member of BTS. And of course satellite Jeon would again, never do it)

Jikook wanted to use the buddy system and they applied where Jin is on purpose because since the location is so risky, (front lines) not alot of people apply to serve there. So the chances of them being accepted were pretty high. I already talked a bit about that here.

Coldest and most dangerous. But before we panic, Jikook love snow so... thats good. But also;

2 things to note before we continue; 1) Tattoos are a none factor on why Jikook applied together or why JK couldn't be with V. They had 0 to do with that. And 2) All members and where they ended up it was their decision

So, here is a Korean explaining

They shall not be separated. They will train together and continue to serve together

One body. Shiet.

Nice. Even the breaks they will take together. Basically spend every minute together for those 18 months y'all.

They had to pass 3 rounds. Applying wasn't all. They had rounds to pass before getting accepted. So as we can see this was a whole ass process. They really worked hard on this to make it happen.

Apparently there is a show you can watch that explains the buddy system. Its 8 episodes, its called real man

The holding hands thing is legit 🤣🤣🤣

Jikook shouldn't have an issue then 🤭

Anon, people are in denial and the other half are trying to explain this away. If Jikook only went in together just so they could come out at the same time then they could have done what Vmon did. Apply separately at the same time.

This is one tough pill to swallow for antis. It's like the biggest fuck u Jikook could have ever done but at the same time I really don't think they factored anyone else but themselves when they made this decision.

18 months is no small amount of time so let's call a spade a spade; Jikook couldn't be apart that long. Fax 💯 JK wanted to be there for Jimin, Jimin wanted to be there for JK, of course. Them in the same place looking out for each other is all I as a fan who loves them can ask for. But at the same time, they needed this.

Anon, they will be together 24/7 for the entire duration of their time there.

Yes. Sleeping in the same quarters. It wouldn't make sense for companionship if they were separating the recruits who applied together. To be companions. Of each other.

The buddy system is there to help friends cope with this difficult mandatory thing that the government insists on doing to their young men. It's there to help them cope in any way possible. I imagine mostly mentally. So why would they train them together then separate them? ❓❓❓

It is said that you should make sure the person you apply with, is a person u get along with super well because for the next 18 months you will be together every moment of everyday. It's krazy to imagine that JK wouldn't rather do this with his actual boyfriend V, instead. Krazy. 🤯

Anygays, no need to worry my good people, Jimin and JK have got each other's back. All that's left is to wait for them and pray for them. May they always hold hands 🤭

Tihihihihihihi

#jikook military #satellite Jikook #ask shaz #bts ask #jikook #kookmin #minkook #jimin and jungkook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jimin #jungkook #bts #jikook is real #If jikook isn't real then neither I'm I #Taekook is not real #the shade

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accio-victuuri · 3 months

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(8) cql shoot “fake” moments 📼

i am picking certain contributions in this round up made by 泡沫爱恋的晴空. there are different candies in the linked source but this post i’m making are stuff that supposedly happened during filming. if like me, and stories like this are your weakness, then you will enjoy it. maybe you’ve read some of these before or not — even saw some play out in unofficial bts.

1.) My favorite and i wanted an excuse to add an edited clip of GG singing. 🎵🎶 this may not be the actual scenario described in the fake story but fans are speculating it is.

DD's assistant would also bring DD green tea at first, but later she only brought boiled water because he wouldn't drink it. There was a quarrel between the two, gg held the green tea and drank it by himself, while dd stood by and watched Bichen. GG ignored him. dd said, "I'm thirsty.” The assistant thought that dd would be embarrassed to ask gg for green tea, so she took a cup and gave it to him. dd said it’s not green tea, gg didn’t even look at him, and dd said angrily that I don’t want to drink any more.

It's going to be swollen, and it's very embarrassing with dd's assistant next to me (xql quarrel can't help much) , gg just said that they brought it out to you and you didn’t drink it. DD was so angry that he didn’t say anything.

GG gave him the green tea and asked dd's assistant for a drink from dd's water cup. He was very helpless and said that green tea has a grudge against you. He keeps an eye on Green Tea Balabala every day. dd drank half a cup of green tea in one breath. When gg took it, he was shocked. Web, you are poisonous, you won’t give me some. dd said you drink water, zg you won't be swollen. Then the two of them reconciled inexplicably. After gg was called by the director after the show, dd asked the assistant for water. Even if I drink it, I won’t be afraid of swelling. I don’t know and I don’t dare to ask.

I tried my best to rephrase some of the words for it to make more sense but i hope you all get the gist of it. So it’s all about a quarrel they had and reconciling because of green tea. Do friends even do this kind of shit? lol. No. I’m serious. The way they fight and make up — you would think they are high school sweethearts or something. The video shared points to the time they were fighting and ignoring each other. Look at WYB completely ignoring GG while singing — and how GG was glancing at him, looking at his expression. I always thought this scene was sweet cause GG was singing that beautiful love song, now i’m seeing it in a different way. Still sweet of course, but with some edge to it. 🤍🔪

2.) The two are talking about the pokemon character grumpig, this was used by the OP as a starting point to the story but the main point is as follows: There is really too much "trash talk" between them, it's terrifying, and no one else can get in, they just understand it, and if they talk about it, they probably don't need to cut out the highlights.

LOL. There are bts content that will never see the light of day between these two because it’s either too sweet or too savage 😂😂😂😂

3.) When I was on the set before, Xiao laoshi would occasionally pout. I don’t know, maybe it was a subconscious action when he was relaxed. Then Lao Wang would say that Xiao laoshi is so cute and pout, and he would say it every time as a fake. If Xiao laoshi is tired, he will be ignored. If he is not tired, he will say something back to him.

One time I saw Teacher Xiao pouting and he took advantage of it! I drew an ugly picture, look at the picture:

Like this, do you understand? Anyway, after pouting, you put your fingers under his lips and then move them up.

4.) One day there was a scratch on the back of his hand. He said team member asked if it was scratched by someone. He said it was not, pointing to a shallow mark — and said this was scratched by him before.

If there are really scratches on the back of my hand when it is broadcast, I am confused and I don’t know anything.

*** i think this pertains to scratches in WYB’s arms lol. we think it’s jianguo but it could be from someone else 😂😂😂

5.) This next one are bits shared by an OP who allegedly met the boys for the first time a year ago, and we were extremely busy. Allegedly this OP is someone who worked with them during CQL promotions. They said that they didn’t know anything about internal entertainment: I just felt that one person who came was not worldly, and the other person was electric. Now I sincerely wish to be with you, and always listen to my heart.

• One is reserved and mature, the other is childish.

• The venue is large, the air outlet temperature of the stage is low, and all has thick coats and it’s bitingly cold. He silently took off his coat and forced the other party to put it on. He breathed silently into his hand, held the microphone to warm it, and exchanged words. To use your description, it means there are stars in my eyes.

• There are a few lines that we hum along while waiting for the venue. It was vaguely him who taught him. I just remember that he sang a line, and my fingertips were moved by the feeling of midsummer.

• His hands were turning the pair of rings intentionally or unintentionally, taking them off, putting them on, and taking them off again. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye. As they passed by, they kissed each other.

• After the curtain call, accompanied by the deafening song and shouting, a faint sound drifted through my ears several times “Life comes and goes again... I'll be by your side”

AHHHHHH THAT’S ALL IM GONNA SAY. No wonder a lot of people who worked during CQL or interacted with them became cpfs. 👀

6.) Because two people sleep together during ttysj, the younger one is more accustomed to it, and is not so scared anymore. Later, the younger one went out to film a drama alone and slept by himself at night. He was a little scared and not used to it, so he asked Brother Zhan to call him and sing "Bao" "Baby", "My precious baby, let me give you some sweets so that you can sleep well tonight." Then the younger one will not be afraid to sleep well.

youtube

this is the song, allegedly, i mean. come on. i wanna fight yibo 😤😤😤 to have xiao zhan sing you to sleep whenever you want to!!!!!

7.) Not necessarily an incident that happened while filming CQL, but during that era in 2018. Most likely from their Bazaar shoot, there is a video of this too, ZZ playing with a dog.

One time when the two of them got together, there was a staff member backstage who brought a puppy to xx and when he was holding the puppy, the puppy licked xx. The person standing next to him looked at the puppy with cold hatred. The staff member was right. Ask xxx, do you want me to lick you too??? No more follow-up, I have other things to do and I'm going out....Don't believe it's fake...

YIBO 😂😂😂😂 I added it here cause it’s so funny! He is even jealous of a puppy!!!! my favorite is how ZZ notices it too, that means he is attuned to WYB’s emotions.

8.) Guizhou has beautiful natural scenery, but the mountain roads are rugged and there are many insects.There are many people. If you want to see the waterfalls during the wet season, you have to hike. After walking for nearly forty minutes with one foot deep and one foot shallow, I happened to hear the sound of water and called out xxx, do you have a wish? When you see the waterfall and you want your wish to come true, close your eyes. It’s fake, don’t believe it.

OP here was talking about what the two of them couldn’t agree on during this interview p1. to those familiar with it, you know what i’m talking about. One was saying there is a waterfall in Guizhou, then the other said there is but they didn’t go. We know that when stuff like this happens, one of them is covering something up. In this case it’s GG.

The fake rumor explains that they did go, WYB asking XZ to close his eyes for a wish was a scheme for him to kiss XZ ( p2 ). He is right tho, if XZ’s wish was WYB, then if he closes his eyes and WYB kisses him— his wish will come true.

I CAN’T. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

WANG YIBO IS SO SMOOTH. 😤😤😤

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #Youtube #the number of fakes is extensive like the link alone is more than 100 lol

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