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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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Pairing: Minsung x reader, jisung and leeknow x reader, leeknow x jisung Genre: Smut with light plot, AU, light fluff, comfort Characters: Han Jisung, LeeKnow/Lee Minho, Fem!Reader Content Warning: dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, dollification, praise, degradation, safe word use with after care Word Count: 6.5k

It had been a stressful week between work and school, and you drummed your fingers on your steering wheel in anticipation as you traveled to your boyfriend’s house for the weekend. Between your mutually busy schedules, you had to survive the week with random and scant flirty messages, cat pics, and 15-minute FaceTime calls, and it certainly was not enough.

The city traffic finally relented, and finally, you found yourself in front of the apartment of your boyfriend, Lee Minho. Punching in the door code, you let yourself in. The apartment was modest, a two-bedroom place Minho shared with 3 cats and Jisung, his roommate and partner. The main area was an open-concept kitchen and living area that was currently unoccupied, save for Soonie who had jumped up when you entered and had begun brushing against your legs.

“I’m home!” You called out, bending over to give the cat some attention. You walked further in, removing your shoes, dropping your overnight bag, and plopping on the couch. You had gotten up early to drive over and it was a relief to be here finally.

A few minutes later, Minho padded out barefoot, all messy air and bleary eyes, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/N!” He said with as much enthusiasm as his sleepy voice could produce. He extended his arms making a grabbing motion at you to come and hug him. He always acted like a big baby when he first woke up.

“Hi baby,” You stood up, hugging him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. “Do not tell me you are just waking up! It’s passed noon!”

He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Late night,” He said, voice raspy.

“I can see that,” You said, looking him up and down. “You must be hungry, go sit and I’ll make something up. I bet Jisung is hungry too.”

“I can make my own food,” He began to protest.

“You hush,” You scold him, shooing him to the couch. “I know you can but let me take care of you.” He faux pouted, but he let you push him down as you walked into their shared kitchen.

For a pair of boys, their kitchen is always well stocked. You put on a playlist of your favorite tunes and get to work. Nothing special you decided, a hearty omelet with some bacon and toast should more than suffice for the two of them. As you began cooking, you found yourself taken by the beat of the music, dancing in place and singing loudly as you mixed and stirred, but still managing to keep one eye out to keep the eggs from burning.

You didn’t notice the way Minho looked at you, eyes full of amusement and adoration. You also didn’t notice when Jisung woke from his mid-day slumber. You noticed him very quickly, however, when you turned around and suddenly he was standing over your shoulder, scaring the crap out of you.

“Jesus christ, Jisung!” You smacked his arm. “You scared the crap out of me!” Somewhere on the couch, you heard Minho’s unmistakable laugh.

“I was just curious what you were cooking! You didn’t answer me when I asked!” He said, holding his hands up defensively.

“Bacon and eggs,” You said, turning him around and giving him a light push towards the couch. “Go sit with Minho you know I hate having people in the kitchen when I’m cooking.” Jisung shuffled in the direction you pointed him mumbling something in acceptance as you got back to work.

Han Jisung was the other partner of your boyfriend. The two had met and started dating long before you met Minho, since high school if Minho was to be believed. The pair lived together, worked together, and spent almost every waking moment together. When you had first visited the apartment, you laughed to yourself about the seemingly completely superfluous need for separate bedrooms for a couple that otherwise did everything together.

You had met Minho 2 years back when you were a freshman in college, he a junior. Initially, you had started off as classmates, and later, friends, bonding over your shared hatred for your dickhead organic chemistry professor and late-night study sessions. His long-term partner was no secret to you, which is what made his confession to you a year after you had met all the more unexpected. Of course, you had slowly found yourself falling for him. Outside of his sarcastic, cool, no-fun exterior was a man on the inside who was brilliantly witty, felt deeply, and had intense passion and empathy for the things and people he loved. You had also, however, resolved to keep your feelings to yourself and made peace with the fact that the two of you as a couple would never be.

It was in the music room late one night. Despite it not being related to your major, Minho had convinced you to take a music theory class so he could share the thing that he loved with you. You had asked him to meet you and help you prepare for a listening exam, but the two of you spent two hours talking and goofing off on the piano. As the night was winding down and you were getting ready to go back to your dorm, he stopped you and confessed to you. He told you about his feelings, how he found himself attracted to you, how he adored the way you snorted when you laughed really hard, how he loved your passion for your field, how caring and considerate you were, and how he had hoped you felt the same way.

To say it caught you off guard would be an understatement. Of course, the feelings were mutual, but his relationship with Jisung made things complicated. You had met Jisung, befriended him. You had been to their home, you saw how they interacted, how they seemed to be made for each other, and you wondered how you could possibly fit into that.

In the following days, you talked a lot with Minho about what being together would look like. About needs and boundaries, about communication and jealousy. You’d take it slow, you both agreed and from that day on, you had become a couple.

In the year or so that had passed since then, you had grown a lot as a couple. Of course, it helped that you had grown a close relationship with Jisung as well. He was cute, super silly but an insanely deep thinker and wise far beyond his years. On nights Minho was gone, the two of you would spend hours making silly songs and then singing them in ridiculous voices, playing board games, and talking about the bigger, scarier things in life. He had become your closest friend and confidant, and slowly, your worries about feeling like an outsider in your own relationship dissipated as you realized that love was not a finite commodity. Your worries about fracturing the close relationship between the pair relaxed too as it had become clear that being with you was not a sacrifice, and more often than not, involved doing whatever they were doing anyways but including you.

The rules your relationship had been built on in the last few months, however, had become steadily more and more shaky. Originally, you and Jisung agreed to be purely platonic friends. You were limited and respectful with each other about physical intimacy, even keeping acts like hugs quick and on rare occasions. It was then also agreed, naturally, that there would be no acts of intimacy as a group. Slowly, however, those strict boundaries seemed to loosen and a comfortable, non-sexual intimacy had blossomed between both you and Jisung, and the three of you as a group. Jisung gave amazing hugs, and cuddle piles on Minho’s bed while you all watched Netflix were simply heaven. It was from the dissolution of those boundaries that you found yourself torn. In the privacy of your own mind, you could admit that you had developed a crush on Jisung. Some nights when the three of you were cozy in bed, you found yourself needing to resist the urge to plant a kiss on Jisung’s cute, sleepy face as you would run your fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. On the other hand, your dynamic was good, great even. Minho spoiled you. He loved you in a quieter way, preferring to silently send you DoorDash from your favorite restaurant on really hard days or be an attentive ear when you needed to get something off your chest. He was the type to keep a list of things you love on his phone, places, things, experiences, anything you had exclaimed you loved he wrote down. When you first caught him doing so, you called him on it and he told you simply that he wanted you to have everything, the world if you so desired, and that he would give it to you. You loved him too, and you would love him for as long as he would let you. It felt wrong, selfish even, to ask for more. For you, Minho was more than enough.

You slid two identical plates piled high with omelet, bacon, toast, and some home fries you had found in the back of the freezer.

“Food’s done!” You said in a sing-songy voice before turning to head back to the kitchen to clean up. Before you could, however, Minho had gotten up and in a flash, positioned himself between you and the sink, his arms crossed.

“Every time you cook we do the same thing,” He scolded. “When have either of us let you clean after you cook for us?”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically. You filled a small bowl with the remaining home fries and plopped down to join the boys at the breakfast table.

Conversation was light over what was, at that time, ostensibly lunch, rather than breakfast. And, despite immense protest from you, the boys cleaned up after your cooking mess with relative efficiency.

It was a beautiful, tepid day outside, and the three of you agreed to head to the local park where you spent hours appreciating the weather, nature, and each other’s company. Before long, it was time for dinner. You all went back and forth, bickering about dinner options, and finally, just decided to order a pizza. You had a long-standing tradition, dating back to your first official date with Minho. The two of you couldn’t agree on what to have for dinner, finally settling on pizza and agreeing that no one could dislike pizza. From then on when you couldn’t agree on dinner, you’d order a pizza.

The pizza was enjoyed and eaten on the couch, yet another inane reality dating show with a bizarre twist on the TV to act as conversation fodder. After the episode's conclusion, ever the cat-fanatic, Minho turned on the Playstation and you and Jisung watched him play Stray, the two of you mostly pointing to things in the environment and commanding him to investigate, much to Minho’s playful dismay.

As the night wound down, the three of you decided to call it a night, Jisung heading to his room, you and Minho heading off to his. You had already changed into your sleepwear, an oversized t-shirt and panties, when you slipped into bed next to Minho, who was already in bed, passively scrolling on his phone. You slid your arm across his torso, pulling yourself towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. From this angle, you were able to see his phone clearly, growing bored immediately as you realize he was browsing the specifications of different audio controllers. Quickly, your mind filled with ulterior motives. After the stressful week you had, you wanted nothing more to be filled and pounded into a quivering, babbling mess by your boyfriend. The mental image alone had your stomach doing backflips.

Taking initiative, you tuned your head to the side and began kissing his neck. Minho continued his scrolling, not reacting, so you went further, licking and sucking the sensitive skin gently. That too, elicited no response. In return, you rolled over in a huff, turning your back to him, and pulling the covers up high. At your antics, Minho chuckled deep and low.

“Did you want something from me?” He asked nonchalantly.

You sighed deeply again. “Do I really need to spell it out?” You retorted.

“Ah, but what am I always telling you about using your words?” He asked. With your back still turned, you heard the singular knock of his phone as he placed it on the nightstand followed by the crinkling of the bed sheets as he rolled over towards you, spooning your body with his. Almost directly into your ear this time, he speaks again. “What is it exactly that you wanted, lovely?”

You weighed briefly weighed your feigned offense versus the growing ache in your core in your mind. You could continue to pout, but you knew damn well he wouldn’t lay a finger on you until you acquiesced to his demands.

“Your cock,” You mumbled.

“Mhm,” He said approvingly, running his hand up and down your arm. “And what is it you want me to do with my cock?”

“Fuck me,” You arched your back, hoping to grind your ass against his member. “Please,” You added.

He chucked again, placing a few light kisses on your shoulder blade. “Someone is needy,” He commented, his tone amused. Suddenly, however, he pulled away from you and you felt the bed shift as he stood. You sat up now, facing him directly as he stood now in the middle of the room.

“Truthfully,” He began, “I was going to get you warmed up before I went through with tonight’s plan but, I think it will be more fun this way.” He said, turning on a heel and walking out of the room before you could question or protest. Not but 60 seconds later he returned, a very confused Jisung in tow.

“Go sit,” The older boy said, gesturing towards the bed.

With an awkward and jerky gait, Jisung obeyed, sitting on the foot of the bed on the right side, the same side on which you were currently sat.

“I can see you both are confused, but first, Y/N, what are our safewords?” Minho asked, standing over the two of you.

“Red, yellow, green,” you reply quickly. “Red stop, yellow slow down and check-in, green good.”

“And Jisungie, what are our safewords?”

“Um, red yellow green. Same system.” He replied, looking off to the side, whether in embarrassment or discomfort, you couldn’t quite discern.

“Very good.” He purred. “I’m going to take care of you both, but to do that I need to know that you understand you can use those safe words at any time. Can you do that for me?”

Your instinct was to simply nod, but you quickly remember that Minho always asks for verbal confirmation. “Yes,” You said, your confusion continuing to grow.

“Of course,” Jisung confirmed.

“Excellent,” Minho said, wordlessly prowling around to the left side of the bed. He climbed in, sliding himself into a seated position with his back against the headboard. Remaining in your respective spots, you both orient your bodies to face him as he does so, expectantly waiting explanation of the sudden intrusion.

“I learned a secret about our Jisungie recently,” Minho cooed, looking first at the younger boy, and then at you.

“Jisung?” You asked, confused. You turned your head to look at him, and as you did so, you watched his eyes go wide with realization. He looked down, burning holes into the sheets with his eyes. Despite realizing whatever Minho was about to confess on his behalf, he didn’t stop him from continuing.

“Did you know that when I fuck you,” Minho continued, “and you make all of those lovely, desperate, needy sounds?”

“I, uh, yeah?” You replied, voice squeaky. It was your turn to go red with embarrassment as you pulled your legs in close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them comfortingly.

“Well, Jisungie has been listening to you beg and moan, stroking his cock and imaging it was his cock you were stretched out over,” Minho said, his expression wolfish.

The image comes to your mind crystal clear, Jisung splayed wide open, his hand on his cock, his head thrown back in ecstasy, the sounds of your pleasure throwing him over the edge. It sends your heart racing and your stomach somersaulting.

“The walls are thin and-” Jisung attempts to defend himself, looking at you desperately searching your face for signs of rejection. Only when he’s sure he finds none does he continue. “You’re so cute and pretty and nice, Y/N, and listening to how good Hyung was making you feel made me imagine the two of you and suddenly I uh,” He paused finding the word. “Needed to relieve myself. I’m sorry that’s probably really weird of me. I know I shouldn’t have been listening I’m sorry once I started it was hard to stop and I feel really strongly for you Y/N in maybe ways a friend shouldn’t feel and…” He rambled on.

Was he confessing to you? You asked yourself. “Jisung,” You addressed him directly, cutting off his apologetic word vomit. “Are you saying you like like me?”

“Yeah?” His voice was squeaky, unsure, not of his feelings, but of your reaction.

“I like like you, too,” You blurted, relieved. “I have for a little while,” you confessed.

“Me too!” Jisung said in complete shock.

“I do love it when my loves get along,” Minho spoke up. “But I know another secret about Jisung.”

Whatever it was it couldn’t have been as much as a bombshell as the first. Even Jisung looked at him with an eyebrow quirked.

“Jisung has never been with a woman,” He stated. “He sucks my cock beautifully and on occasion fucks me pretty thoroughly too, but I thought we could teach Jisung how to make you make all those lovely sounds you make for me, how does that sound, beautiful?”

“G-Good,” You said, your voice dry.

“Good,” Minho dawled. “Jisungie?”

“Please,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” He purred again. “Good boys and girls who listen well get to cum, but those who can’t listen get punished, understand?”

“Yes,” The two of you responded.

“You are both so good at using your words, let's keep that up.” He stated, looking at the two of you. “Y/N, why don’t you kiss Jisung?”

Wordlessly, you unwrapped yourself and crawled to the foot of the bed where Jisung was still seated. He turned his whole body to face you, and as you brought your face in close to his, you paused just millimeters away, teasing him for just a moment before closing the distance.

Your lips gently met his, soft, plump, and full of nervous energy. It’s cute, you decided, taking the lead and kissing him again but harder. Jisung matches your energy, and despite his nerves to be kissing you , you quickly realize he is not an inexperienced kisser. As the kiss heats up in passion and intensity, he follows. You both used your tongues sparingly but tactfully, excitedly exploring and experiencing one another. Through it all you both manage to keep your hands off one another, not having been given permission to touch.

“You may touch,” Minho finally allowed after what felt like an eternity.

Jisung was sat cross-legged on the bed, and you were still on your hands and knees facing him. With Minho’s verbal permission granted, you parted briefly only to climb into his lap facing him, legs fully straddling his waist. In this position, you could press your chest against his chest, and your dampening core against the tent in his pajama pants. The increased contact made you both more heated, feverish. At first, your hands were wild running over his arms, then his chest, then his back. His body was lithe, all corded in lean musculature, you marveled at how toned he felt under your fingertips despite his thin frame. At the same time, Jisung’s hands explored your bodily readily, starting in the safe places, rubbing first your arms, then your back and sides, before coming around to cup a breast. Using his thumb, he drew lazy circles around your nipple, the sensation causing you to sigh with satisfaction. You kissed again, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and crushing your chest against his. He wrapped his arms around low around your waist, using the leverage to rhythmically rock you against his core. The contact was relatively minimal considering the two layers of clothes in between, but the sensation was already causing him to blush and pant.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Minho approved from behind you. Before things could go too much further, however, he called your name, interrupting. “Y/N, Come sit, back to me,” He instructed, patting the space on the bed in between his parted legs.

You do as you are told, your back resting against his chest in a reclined seated position.

“Arms up,” Minho again commanded. As you comply, he lifts your oversized t-shirt up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed except for your panties. Jisung stared, his eyes transfixed and hungry. He didn’t dare move. The attention makes you shy, but you know better than to cover up.

“Give me a color, sweetness,” He asked you directly.

“Green,” You breathed.

“Jisung?”

“Huh? Oh, super green.” He said, blinking hard, clearing something from his mind.

“I am also green,” Minho confirmed. “Now for this part, my love, all I need you to do is be a perfect little doll for Jisungie, remember we are teaching him how to make you feel good. You can make all the noises you’d like but you may not move, guide him, or if he does a good enough job, cum until I allow you, do you understand?”

“Yes,” You breathed.

“Yes, what?” He asked you again.

“Yes, sir .” You added.

Seemingly satisfied, he turned his attention to Jisung.

“Jisung aren’t Y/N’s tits gorgeous?” Minho asked, reaching around and taking both breasts in his hands as if presenting them to him. You sighed at the warmth of his palms.

“Yeah-” Jisung agreed, his voice hoarse.

“The thing is, her nipples are pretty sensitive,” He began, shifting his hand placement slightly to trap your nipples between his thumb and forefingers, applying minimal pressure. “So the first way to make her make those noises you love is like this,” He punctuated his sentence by increasing the pressure of his fingers, rolling the sensitive skin in between. The sensation catches you off guard and you squeak in surprise, but ultimately relax and moan quietly at the feeling.

“Come play with her tits,” Minho invited, dropping both breasts. You watch Jisung almost fall over himself scrambling to make his way over to you. He kissed you first, briefly, however as he moved on to peppering shorter kisses down your jaw and neck, all the way down to your chest. He took one breast in his hand, repeating the light rolling motion the older man had shown him, but with the other breast, he enveloped the nipple with his mouth, licking and sucking with eagerness. After a few minutes, he switched, showing the opposite side the same attention. You groaned at the feeling, letting your head relax back against Minho’s chest.

“Good boy,” Minho praised. “But look,”

The command made Jisung drop his hands and pull away, waiting to hear what exactly he was meant to be looking at.

“Her panties are soaked, do you know what that means?”

“I’m doing a good job?” Jisung replied tentatively.

“Precisely,” Minho cooed. “Hips up,” He addressed you now. You do so without hesitation. “Take her panties off,” He spoke again to Jisung.

Jisung pulled back a bit, giving himself a bit more room to hook his thumbs around the fabric and pull it down and off, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Minho then grabbed both of your legs one by one, lifting them up and out, placing them on the outside of his legs. From this position, even if you wanted to close your legs, you would be entirely blocked from doing so by Minho’s legs. In this position, you were pinned wide open for Jisung to see and appreciate, and appreciate Jisung indeed did. He stared at your dripping core like a man starved, and it was making you dizzy with desire.

Minho reached down, using one hand to part your folds and the other to find the bundle of nerves. He does so quickly and easily, drawing painfully slow circles around the area. You want to protest, to beg for more, but you know better.

“Got you are fucking soaked,” Minho groaned into your ear before addressing Jisung again. “This is the clit, if you want to make Y/N cum, this spot is really important.” He withdrew his finger and moved it lower, dipping it into your core. “Down here is her pussy. When you finger her, curve your fingers like this,” He demonstrated, lazily pumping a single curved finger in and out of your entrance. Your nerves are on fire , and even with one, unenthusiastic finger, you find yourself clenching around his finger and groaning, mentally screaming for more. Minho laughs darkly at you, “Ah, you just wait you haven’t earned it yet.” He looked up at Jisung, “The G-spot is what you’re aiming for, it's the spot on top that feels a little different than the rest.” With that, he withdrew both of his hands. “Jisungie, you suck my cock so well, why don’t you try eating Y/N out? You’ll know you’re doing it right by her reaction. Once you find it though, don’t stop.”

A new wave of nerves clearly hits Jisung as he is now completely out of his element. Making out and sucking nipples was easy, everyone had them. Slowly he lowered himself, positioning himself comfortably between your legs. He parted your folds gingerly, and after taking a calming breath, stuck his tongue out exploratively. He took to your clit quickly, but his movements were decidedly slow. He took his time mapping and exploring, memorizing the points that made you gasp and jerk. Once he had found the best spot, he built up a shocking and punishing pace with his tongue, one that had your back arching against Minho’s chest.

“Ah, fuCK-” You gasped, your hands white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Give her two fingers,” Minho instructed. Without breaking tempo, Jisung slid two fingers in, rocking them into you at a slow, deliberate, tempo, dragging his fingertips against the nerves of your g-spot, making you clench tight around them. The juxtaposition between his fingers and his mouth was divine, putting your full focus on pushing down the growing tightness in your core. You make the mistake, however, of looking down, the sinful sight of Jisung’s pretty face buried between your thighs and the wet, squelching sounds of your pussy greedily milking his fingers combined suddenly bring you much closer to the edge than you expected, in serious danger of careening off the edge without permission.

“I- ah- cum! Please!” Was all you managed to get out.

“Ah but princess, I wanted you to cum all over Jisung’s pretty cock, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum now.”

“I can- fUCK, I can go twice,” You offer up, anything to negotiate your release.

“Hmm,” He paused, thinking to himself.

Think faster! You thought to yourself.

“It’s a special day and I’m feeling generous, you can go ahead and cum baby but you still have to show Jisungie how pretty you are when you’re making a mess all over his cock.” He drawled, brushing a stray hair from your face and planting a kiss on your temple.

With permission granted, and no more than 3 more pumps of Jisung’s fingers, you are coming, eyes closed head back, arched back, shaking and cussing through the shock waves. Jisung removes his fingers and backs off of you, and you allow yourself to fall back onto Minho, eyes closed, chest heaving as you recover. There are several seconds of silence followed by the sound of something wet, and when you open your eyes, you look up and instantly, you feel your core reignite at the sight.

They were kissing , sloppily and messily, the shine of your slick still wet on Jisung’s lips. Minho, with his only free hand, palmed the boy’s erection through his pants while he whimpered, his arms dangling at his sides. The sight was beautiful and dirty and made your toes curl with desire.

Minho gave Jisung a light push, pulling away from the younger boy. “I should punish you for moving without permission, but you still have another job to do, so I will let it slide. Clothes off,” He commanded.

Jisung wordlessly obeyed, and while doing so, Minho sat you forward slightly, giving him room to peel off his own shirt and adjust your positioning.

“He’s going fuck you really good baby, but this angle doesn’t quite work. Just lay here and enjoy I’m going to be right beside you appreciating the view.” He said, picking up your hand and placing a kiss on the knuckle. You do as he says, and after a minute, Jisung returns, giving you the chance to drink in his naked form.

He wasn’t the tallest man, but damn was he nice and proportional. His cock was thick and flushed a lovely shade of pink at the tip, which was already glistening with precum.

“Now Y/N does give fantastic head, however, today is about you learning so it’s time to fuck her. A gentleman always lets his lady cum first, so pace yourself. You may only cum after she does, understood?” Minho asked Jisung.

“Y-Yes,” Jisung said, climbing back on the bed, initially kneeling in front of your feet. He nudged your legs open tentatively, and you complied. He came in closer then, kissing you again. Instinctively, you wrapped both arms around him. This kiss lacked the heat it did before, but this time contained a new, distinct feeling of intense care and passion. It was gentle, loving, sweet, even, and it caused your chest to ache. He was losing his virginity all over again, you realized, and it made you hold him a little closer. He continued to kiss you as you felt his cock probe your folds before sliding it home at last. Instinctively, he threw his head back and groaned, inch by delicious inch, the stretch of your cunt around his cock tip to hilt had you both gasping.

You wondered for a moment what his plan was, it was obvious to anyone in the room that he was near the edge, and how he planned to make you cum before him and escape punishment piqued your curiosity. You didn’t have to wonder for long.

He pulled up and away from you a bit, cock still buried deep inside you. He pulled up one of your legs up high, resting it on one of his shoulders. His hands found purchase on the wall and bed frame. This new position was significantly less intimate than the one before but allowed for a much better range of motion. He withdrew from you almost entirely and then snapped forward, the force of which had both your head hitting the headboard and an audible slapping sound as your pelvises collided. He pulled out again, and with the same force slammed into you. His pace was slow but incredibly consistent but hard . Sensitive from coming already, you found yourself gripping the sheets, the coil in your core winding up once again. Jisung was remarkably quiet save for his heavy breathing, his face was serious and his eyebrows were furrowed with concentration. Jisung took his hand off the headboard and snaked it in between your legs, rubbing and circling your clit in the same way Minho had shown him previously. The added sensation had you writhing under him, another orgasm quickly building. Jisung sucked in air through his teeth and groaned as your walls milked his cock, but again and again, he slammed into you. You were getting close, everyone could tell.

“Cum, baby,” Minho told you again peppering your face with sweet kisses.

“Please,” Jisung begged, his release painfully close for him.

You were so close, babbling and begging to no one in particular, and yet you still couldn’t quite crest over that edge. Jisung growled suddenly in frustration, taking his spare hand from the wall and wrapping it around your throat.

“You’re such a dumb cock slut that you can’t do what you’re fucking told? When you are told to cum, you fucking cum.” Jisung said through gritted teeth, staring daggers through you. He applied no pressure with his hand on your throat, but the sudden shift to dom Jisung sends you careering violently over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you in waves, made even more intense by the rapid pounding and merciless pounding Jisung was now doing, chasing his own release which too found him momentarily, his head throwing back in ecstasy and filling you thoroughly.

Jisung pulled out of you, but in a blur, Minho was on top of you, fucking you hard and fast. Oversensitive from having just orgasmed, it was far, far too much, tears beginning to pickle in your eyes.

“Tuh… tuh much…” You babble, rather incoherently.

Minho continued fucking into you at breakneck speed, but his words were all encouragement, how beautiful you looked, how amazing you did, how good you felt, how close he was, and how good you were making him feel. Regardless, the overstimulation was turning rapidly into pain and you needed a break.

“Y-Yellow,” You breathed.

Immediately Minho slowed to a stop, pulling his cock out of you and watching your face carefully.

“Do we need to stop? You did beautifully, you don’t have to push yourself anymore.” He caressed your face with the back of his hand and brushed away sweat-drenched hair. As overstimulated as you felt with him fucking you, the sensation of his cock pulling out sends you over and a couple of tears actually spill over.

“No no this will not do,” Minho says wiping away your tears, getting off of you. “Today isn’t a day for tears, come on, let’s draw up a bubble bath and I’ll rub your back with the lavender essential oil.” He starts to get up.

“No!” you almost shout, grabbing his wrist.

Jisung, having finally recovered, was a frequent bottom and recognized the exact thing you were currently feeling. He sits back in bed, sitting next to you. He picks up your hand and brings it to his lips.

“You wanna be good for Minho, huh, kitten?”

“Yeah,” You said, nodding enthusiastically.

“You wanna cum for him and make him feel really good, right? Make a mess all over his cock like you did all over mine?”

“Wanna cum,” you agreed.

“You have to tell him that, kitten,” Jisung said kissing your face softly.

“I wanna cum, please. I wanna be good. I wanna make you feel good, too.” You begged Minho. He kissed you softly.

“You’ve been so good, princess. I’m going to take really good care of you, okay? Lift your hips, please.” As you did so, he slid a pillow underneath, changing the angle so that when he slides back into you, he hit your g spot every single time . The break short was precisely what you needed, and as Minho fucks you again, the oversensitive feeling has already dissipated and the relentless assault on your g-spot brings you rapidly close to yet another orgasm.

Jisung is at your side now, and as Minho is all sweet nothings and praise, Jisung’s mouth is fucking filthy . “I just filled you up with cum and you still can get enough, huh? One cock isn’t enough, you have to have two, how greedy.” He remarks, his tone patronizing but undercut by the delicate way he holds and kisses you.

It isn’t long after your third and final orgasm hits you like a semi. Feeling your walls relax and contract around him sends Minho off of his precipice too as he unloads into you.

Minho rolls off of you and collapses on the bed, silence cut by your heavy breathing settling in as you all recuperate.

“That… was amazing,” Minho said between breaths.

“You can say that again.” Jisung agreed. “I’m not a virgin anymore!”

“You weren’t a virgin before,” Minho pointed out.

“Well I’m not a virgin again ,” Jisung said with a pout. “I lost it twice.”

Minho laughed at him. “Y/N was the star of the show.” He said, rubbing your leg and looking at you fondly. “And tell Jisung he can’t be a double non-virgin.”

“I can’t disagree,” Jisung said, kissing you. “Wait yes I can, to the second thing you said though. Tell him I can so be a double non-virgin!”

You were thoroughly exhausted and still sub-spacy, but you still managed to laugh at the boyish antics of the man in front of you. “Jisung can be whatever he wants to be,” You fake-scolded Minho. “What happened to Dom Jisung?” You asked with a small laugh.

“Yes!” Jisung celebrated. “Oh, he came and went,” He said with a wink.

Both you and Minho groaned at that one.

“In seriousness, I’m sorry that just kind of came out of me, I didn’t expect it myself to be honest! I wish we had talked about it before and I didn’t spring it on you.”

“You’re probably right that we should have talked about it, but it is alright. Obviously, I ended up responding to it.” You replied with a laugh. “Thanks for not choking me without talking about it first.”

“Psh,” he blew you off. “What do I look like, some 50 shades of grey Daddy Dom? Even my sudden subconscious dom side knew that!”

You giggled at him, finally finding the strength to sit up a little bit. Your abs ached, and you were pretty sure your legs had turned to jello.

“Hey Y/N?” Jisung asked suddenly, his tone much more serious.

“Yeah, what's up?”

“If I can be whatever I want, is there I chance I can be your boyfriend?”

The vulnerability in his tone breaks your fucking heart. “Of course baby, but it’s not just my decision. We’d have to ask Minho too.” You looked at him expectantly.

“Who me? The two people I love the most also love each other, sound pretty cool to me.” Minho said with a shrug.

“Then it’s settled, boyfriend .” You said with a wink.

He tackled you in a hug kissing all over your face. “I’m so happy!”

You pat him affectionately but push him gently off. “Careful there I’m covered in enough cum as it is you’re getting more on me!” You whined.

“Oh right, sorry!” He acquiesced.

A couple beats of silence passed before you spoke up again.

“So someone said something about a bubble bath?”

_____________________________________

Hi! Thanks for reading and supporting as always, I hope you enjoyed <3

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3.6k

Jungkook’s vision went white and he felt the air pulled out of his lungs as in a flash, he was again in the hospital room, Namjoon hovered worryingly over your body. He looked up as you arrived, obvious relief relaxing his features as his eyes landed on Baba Yena.

“Baba Yena,” Namjoon greeted with a bow. “I was only able to do a cursory search, but her kind isn’t listed or documented in any infernal records I was able to get my hands on.”

“Of course, because she is not from the hells, my child.” Baba Yena said, walking to your bedside, and shooing him away. “She is indeed a rare sight to behold, but you will have to ask her about her heritage, she has taken considerable lengths to conceal it.”

“So you will save her?” Namjoon asked, hopeful.

“Yes, horned one. Your mate has sacrificed sufficiently, and this child has suffered greatly as it is. It is not yet her time to die.” Baba Yena said, beginning to pull several black, oily drawing implements as well as a bottle of bright blue, glowing liquid.

Without much regard for the others standing in the room, Baba Yena began unceremoniously undressing your body, causing both the men in the room to turn their gaze elsewhere. Perhaps in a different time or context, it would be embarrassing, exciting perhaps, but they felt it perverse to see you unclothed in such a state. Fully nude, Baba Yena began using the black, oily, drawing implements to draw intricate symbols all over your body.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, back still turned.

“Her body is too weak to house her soul, so it is lost somewhere in the Astral Sea. The water from the Elu Spring in the Fey Wild will heal and strengthen her body. The markings are the spell that will call her soul back to her body.”

With that, Baba Yena sat you up, popping the cork of the blue liquid, and carefully poured it down your throat. Immediately, your almost grey skin flushes with color, and your rapid, shallow breaths begin to even out. Namjoon watched the monitor carefully, breathing a sigh of relief as your heart rate became stronger and faster too. Baba Yena then closed her eyes, extending her arms out straight, palms down. Her palms began to glow with a bright, white light, and as they glowed, so did the markings on your body. Baba Yena’s face scrunched with concentration. “Come on, child. It is not yet time to go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You came to, opening your eyes, rubbing them harshly as to clear your blurred vision. You feel yourself to be weightless, immediately, as if floating on water. All around you, horizon to horizon, were breathtakingly vibrant and clear night skies, completely lit up with stars and nebula as far as the eye could see. Below, was a massive and never-ending sea of the purest, molten silver, opaque and mirror-like, the gentle waves that broke the surface capturing the starlight with such luster you wondered for a moment if the water had been made of the cosmos, perhaps from the tears of the other stars, crying for the fallen.

It didn’t exactly take a scholar to figure out you had found yourself in the Astral Plane, the plane souls found themselves in before continuing onto an afterlife fitting of whomever they worshiped in life. Legend has it that the Astral Sea is what waters the Tree of Life, and drinking from its waters will grant you all knowledge and power akin to a God in your own right. Others said those with enough hubris or guts to try are simply driven stark raving mad, cursed to roam the endless abyss with nothing but the voices in their head to keep them company. Considering that you had yet to hear of a God exalted by this water, you were more inclined to believe the latter.

How the fuck did I get to the astral realm? You asked yourself, anxiety and panic prickling at your skin. You combed through your memories, you woke up, got dressed, had breakfast, and… you hit a wall. You try to push forward, but the more you do so, the more your brain shoots with pain. Something or someone was blocking you from remembering something important, and you judged. Whether or not that was simply a symptom of the situation you found yourself in or a direct action taken by someone, you had yet to discern.

There was at least one thing you knew about the Astral Plane, that in order to travel it, you only had to think, to will yourself in one direction or the other. You started by willing yourself into the vertical, upright position with the sea 10 meters below. What you did not know, however, was how magic functioned in this plane. The first obvious solution was to attempt to plane shift back to your reality, but when you mentally cast your consciousness out looking for laylines to dip into, you couldn’t find any. You willed yourself forward then, continuing the mental search.

Time in the Astral worked differently than in the prime material plane. There was no day or night, time simply did not pass, so it was impossible to gauge how long you truly spent looking, but you only stopped when your head throbbed from the exertion. Could it be possible that the Astral had no laylines? Or perhaps your magic had been cut off somehow, rendering you blind to any laylines that might exist? If that was the case, had you actually died? The thought raised your blood pressure.

Without the ability to dip into the magic, you were certainly not plane-shifting out of this shitty situation. You patted yourself down and only now realized that you were entirely without your personal effects, now wearing a rough spin, off-white tunic, brown pants of the same fabric, and a pair of worn leather boots. More importantly, without your stuff, you had returned to your true form. The realization was not helping the actually dead theory. You willed yourself forward, hoping to run into another soul, maybe someone who could help you figure this situation out.

You floated for what felt like years, decades. You didn’t need to eat or sleep, and with no time reference, the monotony alone would drive anyone mad, you didn’t even need to drink the seawater, you decided. Sometimes you saw people, mostly in the distance, however, and when you’d try to call their attention, they would flee like their lives depended on it. Other times the Sea itself would open up, portals of different shades of light would flash, dropping off newly departed souls, or more often, yanking an older soul into one afterlife or another. No one spoke to one another, and certainly no one spoke to you. That is, until mercifully, you hear your voice called by a friendly male voice behind you.

“Y/N?” The voice called out. The tone was friendly and definitively male, but there was a quality about the timbre that called out to something deeper and forgotten inside of you. You turned around hesitantly, seeing a tall, human man in his 20s. His hair was curly, his features dark and his skin a tanned olive. There was a familiarity to his look, and as he approached closer, it finally clicked.

“Fareed?!” You asked with a mixture of shock and surprise.

“Long time no see!” He said with a friendly wave.

When you had first escaped from the Fey Wild, Fareed was your first friend as a young child. Fareed was a bubbly but fearless kid whose hobbies appropriately included talking to strangers and jumping off the highest places he could find. He often slipped extra portions of his lunch out of the house, but you always suspected his mom knew and was giving him too much food deliberately. His fearlessness got him taken away far too young, and when our country began conscripting soldiers for some war in some faraway land, he was the first to volunteer. We received news of his passing only one month later.

To see him in his current state, alive, well, and sane choked you up and you found yourself fighting back tears.

“It’s Y/N! I must look considerably different now than when you last saw me.” You said gesturing to your true self. “Why are you still here?” You asked. Fareed had died at least 200 years ago, and you had always hoped that he was living it up in some cushy afterlife.

“I could recognize your energy from across all the planes.” He said with a light laugh. “The Astral has guardians and protectors like any other plane,” He explained. “I dedicated my afterlife to guiding and protecting the lost souls that wander here, and when it is time for them to pass on, I help them find that passage.”

“That sounds like an incredibly noble cause and absolutely something you would do,” You said with a laugh.

“Speaking of which,” He began, “I have gotten a sudden influx of souls complaining about a weird, noisy soul wandering around, harassing folks. Which, in turn, leads me to you. What are you doing here, you don’t seem dead?” He asked.

“About that,” you sighed “I woke up here and I can’t remember how or why I got here, and I would have simply teleported back but I can’t seem to use my magic.”

“That is strange, considering that the Astral Plane is incredibly magically potent, equally if not more so than the Fey Wild.” He stated. “Come here and let me touch your forehead, let me see if I can’t get this sorted for you.”

You willed yourself closer to him, and in response, he stuck his hand out, fingers tented, and placed them on your forehead. You feel nothing, but you watch Fareed’s eyes dart around rapidly, making negative vocalizations. After a moment, he drops his hand and focuses his vision back on you.

“Life certainly hasn’t been very kind to you, Y/N, and for that, I want to express my condolences.”

“Fareed the years have made you so well-spoken!” You exclaim with a laugh. “Thank you.” You said, more seriously.

“You have a powerful curse on you, but I think you already knew that. It is strange but refreshing to see your true form.” He stated. You nodded in confirmation as he continued, “You are not dead. You almost died. That is how you ended up here. Someone extremely powerful wanted you to forget what happened to you, so they blocked your memory and your magic. Fortunately, I am also someone extremely powerful and I was able to remove the block, but not the curse on you as a whole. That is a complicated and difficult endeavor not even I can do.”

With that information, you think back again, this time with crystal clear acuity. You remember the club, rescuing the woman, meeting Jungkook, his preposition. You remember being in his embrace, heat and lust and euphoria taking over every one of your senses, you remember begging him not to stop despite fading away slowly, and then darkness.

“I think I have a soulmate, Fareed.” You breathed.

“I am inclined to agree. All things do.”

“He has mates already though, 6 of them!” You exclaimed.

“Then you also have 6 additional mates,” Fareed said matter of factly.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t even know those people.”

Fareed cocked an eyebrow at you. “Y/N, do you know how soulmates work?”

“Love and magic and shit, no?” You asked with a shrug.

“Not quite,” Fareed explained. “Souls as most people like to refer to them are actually called Fragments. They are the broken-up pieces of Soulias. When the gods created all sentient living things, they made a center of power, into which they put all knowledge, power, emotion, experience, and condition, and they named that power center Soulia. The problem occurred when the gods tried to plant these Soulias into vessels, the power would overwhelm the vessel and tear it apart, and the ones strong enough to withstand were monstrous creatures of pain, chaos, and violence. The Gods decided to fracture the Soulias. The larger Fragments would go into the vessels they were creating, and the smaller Shards, remnants of the fracturing process, would go into all other living creatures. Fracturing also ensured that no two vessels would live an identical life and that only true harmony could be attained when you shared your piece, your life, your soul, with others around you. It was usually convenient to break the Soulia into two, so often you will see soul mates in pairs of two. But for larger Soulias, smaller Fragments are needed, so it is broken up into smaller pieces, so soulmate groups of more than two are certainly possible. The Soulia inside the vessel will spend its whole life pining after its other pieces. Many people never find their true other half, but a good deal will find love nonetheless and find satisfaction in that. Many here found their Shards in life inside beloved plants and animals.”

“I never knew all that,” You stared at him mouth agape. “So my soul, fragment, fits in with all of theirs?” You ask, gripping at your chest.

“Precisely.”

“What happens when all the parts of a Soulia are bought together?” You asked.

“Well, as I said before, the fracturing process is extremely imperfect, and in the creation of Fragments, a great number of shards are also produced, so getting every part of a Soulia back together is practically impossible. You can, however, tie the pieces together somewhat, bonding or mating as you likely know it, which affords all persons a metaphysical line to one another. Through that line, you can pick up on how your partner is feeling, you can send short messages or emotional sentiments. If they allow you in, you can enter their mind, they can share memories with you as they saw them, and they can allow you to feel exactly how they feel, understand how they actually think. It is a powerful connection, and allows for deeper intimacy and connection possible by other non-soulmate or non-bonded pairs.”

“That sounds… intrusive.” You mumble, arms crossed.

“It can be, but everything is done with the consent of both parties. You can ignore the call of your mate down the bond, even after you’ve let them in you can push them out of your mind at any time, and you can block anyone from entering. Just takes a little practice.”

You frown at that, “It sounds like you are selling it to me.”

“I guess you could say that I am. You seem upset, why? Most people are delighted to meet a soulmate.”

“I’m mad that my soulmate almost killed me, I’m mad that I have a soulmate, I’m mad that I have 7 soul mates. I’m mad that I’ve lived the last 50 years of my life in relative solitude because I was sick and tired of getting fucked over and suddenly 7 of potentially the deepest and most intimate connections a living thing can experience is dropped onto my lap so yeah, color me upset! I can’t do loss anymore, Fareed. It’s too painful.”

He looked you up and down, contemplatively. “If I may, one old friend to another?”

You nod in response.

“Look around and tell me what you see.” He said, making a wide sweeping gesture.

“I see endless and endless nothing dotted with lonely, lost souls, hoping that someday they’ll be called to something better.”

“Time may not pass in the Astral, but what I quickly learned is that this is the summation of a human life, Y/N. They live, and most days are bleak, boring, and mundane. Occasionally, another lonely soul will cross their path, and for a time, they find comfort in one another. Ultimately, they part, and at the end of it all, they pass on hoping that whatever next is someplace better, and yet for many this is what they have to look forward to.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are getting at, Fareed.”

“You have lived a long, brilliant life Y/N, many times longer than many of the souls that wander here. You have suffered more than much more than many of these souls, but you have been gifted the chance to love and be loved much more than many of these souls. So go, Y/N. Set yourself free from grief, worry, and suspicion. Do not shy away from love for fear of pain, love despite it, and love fiercely and unapologetically. When you are called to join us here again, come with joy in your heart from a life fearlessly spent, or be doomed to eternity searching the silver sea for your salvation. You are your own salvation.”

You pursed your lips tightly, looking down at the Astral Sea as you processed his words.

“It isn’t that easy,” You began, your voice wavering.

“For you, it won’t be,” He admitted. “It is true some come into this world full of light and for whom trust and love come easy. But for those who have been hurt as you have, it is going to be hard. Just because things are hard doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or that they are bad for us.”

“You know what I am, what I am made of. You see the ticking bomb I am, and yet you insist I allow people to get close to me to what... hurt as many as I can? I will never be free, Fareed. They will chase me to the ends of time and take from me what they feel they are owed. We both know that.” You finish your rant, a single tear running down your cheek. As you do so, a bright white portal opens on the top of the Astral Sea, slowly dragging you closer and closer to its event horizon.

“It seems our time together has run out,” Fareed said. “If you would allow me to leave you with a parting thought before you go. The only memories they blocked from you were of him. They wanted you to forget him so desperately they blocked your magic essentially confining you to a realm where they would never be able to touch you again. That is worth considering.”

As your feet began to hit the portal, Fareed grabbed your hand holding it close.

“Make the world tremble at you, Y/N. I don’t want to see you here for a long, long time. Good luck-” The end of the word was clipped as your vision went white, your hearing went silent, and like you were being flushed down a toilet, you felt yourself being yanked at lightning speed by your feet, and suddenly everything was again dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Baba Yena pulled up her arms suddenly, and in response, your body involuntarily arched. When doing so, you let out a sudden, loud gasp, causing all present to breathe a small sigh of relief to themselves too.

“The child was very deep, so it took me a while to find her.” Baba Yena said, redressing you in a spare hospital bed and tucking you in gently. “Both of you,” She said, turning to the men who had huddled together for comfort during the spell. “Kneel.”

They looked at each other, but rather than piss off a supremely powerful being who just did you a massive favor, the pair concede, sinking to the floor on their knees. Once in position, Baba Yena approached the pair. While kneeling, Baba Yena was at eye level with the boys. She approached Jungkook first.

Thwack! She cracked him across the skull with a walking cane. “What are you doing bleeding girls dry like you're some poor changling with no control of their thirst? You are over 200 years old, act your age! You had no business testing out a connection you had no idea if you could control without supervision.” Baba Yena scolded him thoroughly.

“And you,” Thwack! This time she cracked Namjoon over the skull with the cane. “What the hell kind of doctor are you? You were in such a rush to do nothing you didn’t stop to see the blinding, gold amulet that she wears? The very same type you and several of your mates wear? If he almost killed her, you were signing the death certificate with your negligence ink. You ought to be ashamed.” She finished, brushing nothing off her petticoat, and gathering her things to leave.

“She will wake in 3 days fully rested and back to full health. There will come a time when she has questions about herself, and when she does, find me. Until then, leave me alone. You kids have caused me enough trouble as it is. Oh and, be careful with that one. She has been through enough.” And with that, she flourishes the very same cane, vanishing.

The silence that hangs in the air after Baba Yena leaves is long and heavy, but mixed with relief as the pair approach both sides of your bed, staring at your sleeping form. It was amazing how starkly opposite you looked now to even just an hour before, knocking on death’s door.

“I think you have a lot of explaining to do, Kook.”

“Later,” The younger one pleaded. “I just want to sit here for a little while.”

“Later.” Namjoon agreed, excusing himself. Not but 20 minutes later, he found himself back in the room, second chair and laptop in hand. Jungkook was too guilt-ridden to say it, but he was immensely grateful for the company. He hoped you were too.

_____________________________________________ Tags @luvlykyy ---------------------------------------------------------- Big lore dump this chapter! Some of you may be noticing some inspiration from DnD to lend me some framework for world-building! That is absolutely true, but as I also mentioned I have been using it as a framework, and as such it may or may not veer violently off the Forgotten Realms cannon, so don't get too twisted about "Hey, that's not how that thing works!" It's just a work of fiction I'm writing for funsies at the end of the day so don't take it too seriously. I hope you are all enjoying~

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts x reader smut #bts x oc #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts smut #bts smau #bts #bangtan #foundfatedforever

181 notes · View notes

yeoja-dream · 3 months

Text

Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Jungkook held your body, cool, clammy, and lifeless in a state of panic. He didn’t mean to go that far, he thought desperately. He put his head on your chest and prayed to any gods that would listen that he hadn’t killed out outright, and a tiny blip of relief washed over him when he hurt the faint, slow beating of a heart. It wasn’t too late.

“What am I supposed to do?” He said, anxiously pacing. The idea hit him suddenly. If there was someone that could help, it was Namjoon.

Jungkook picked up your body, handling and cradling it like it was the most delicate flower. Standing in the middle of your apartment, in a puff of dark smoke, Jungkook willed the two of you to disappear, then reappear again on the roof of the largest general hospital in your city. At this time, the morning sun had begun cresting over the horizon, its warm rays falling onto the two of you. Jungkook for the first time felt his grip on you weaken and his muscles begin to strain and ache under your weight. Where you were weightless to him before, the sunlight was weakening him considerably. He wasted no further time dashing into the rooftop access door and into the hospital proper.

If Jungkook knew Kim Namjoon, and he was certain he did, he knew that it was almost certain that Namjoon hadn’t yet gone home from his shift as an emergency room attending. Jungkook hadn’t been to the hospital often, the stench of alcohol, death, blood, and other bodily fluids was overwhelming to his heightened senses and churned his stomach. Looking to blend in, he used the glamour magic afforded to him, disguising both of your forms as he navigated the halls, appearing to be just another doctor carrying a box of medical equipment. He paused, closing his eyes and concentrating, mentally pulling and tugging at the bond he shared with the older man.

Where are you? I am here.

Office. The bond answered back.

It wasn’t long until he was in front of the office of Dr. Kim Namjoon. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Inside was a tired-looking, young man, busily typing and scratching down notes on a piece of paper. As Jungkook entered, he looked up, his expression initially pleased at seeing his mate quickly turned to one of shock and horror at what he was carrying.

“Hello Jungk-” Namjoon cut himself and stood suddenly from his desk, seeing the body he carried in his arms. “What the hell is this?”

“Help her, please,” Jungkook begged. “I can explain more later.”

Namjoon walked over, feeling for a pulse. “Did you do this to her?” He asked, his voice grave.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied, ashamed.

“Well you didn’t kill her,” Namjoon stated with a sigh. “She needs urgent treatment. Disguise yourself and bring her up to the 8th floor, B corridor, last room on the left. We will have a bit more privacy that way. I will be up right behind you.”

With a simple nod of solemn understanding, Jungkook turned on his heel, and made haste out of the office, following Namjoon’s instructions carefully. The B corridor on the 8th floor was sparsely populated, it appeared to be mostly storage for patient care monitors and machines, Jungkook noted passively. He tried the door of the aforementioned room, finding it unlocked, before letting himself in. The room was minimal, with a bed made up with only a pillow and a single fitted sheet, a bedside monitor, and a chair. Jungkook quickly laid you down on the bed before drawing the blinds to prevent any additional sunlight from getting in, it was making him feel like shit enough as it was.

It wasn’t much longer after Jungkook entered that Namjoon entered as well. He came, backpack slung over a shoulder and pushing a rolling table. Wordlessly, he unpacked the supplies and began setting you up on the monitors.

“Her pulse is thready, weak, and slow, but it's there. Regular rythm.” Namjoon noted out loud to no one in particular. “Her blood pressure is really low so I’m going to have to start her on a blood transfusion and fluids. Is that going to bother you, or do I have to kick you out?”

Jungkook shook his head emphatically. Namjoon nodded in understanding, but stood in place, unmoving.

“DO something!” Jungkook insisted, anxiously.

“I can count the number of times I’ve placed an IV on one hand and as for the IV pumps, they might as well be set to a foreign ancient language. I promise I am the last person you want handling this stuff. I’ve already paged my nurse, Clara. She should be here any moment.”

As if divinely timed, the door handle jiggled and opened, and a short, stout, human walked in. Clara was the veteran nurse of veteran nurses. She had been working since she graduated at the age of 22, she could place an IV in your forehead, she could run a code blue better than most of the resident doctors, and she was wise enough to know when to not ask too many questions.

“I got your page, Dr. Kim,” Clara said, walking in, and quickly assessing the situation.

“Clara, we are running a hypovolemic protocol on this patient. She needs bilateral peripheral IVs, 1-liter Lactated ringers at 120 milliliters an hour, packed red blood cells should run at 200 milliliters an hour, and platelets at 400. Take whatever blood you can and run a CBC, Jane Doe, stat. I have all the supplies here.”

“Yes, doctor,” Clara responded before quickly getting started. Clara worked fast and efficiently, with a work ethic born from years in the emergency room. Sliding the IVs in place, she expertly set up the fluids and blood products to transfuse and finally drew a vial of blood for testing. “I am going to run this to the lab. Will you be doing the transfusion monitoring, Doctor?”

“Yes. Thank you, Clara, for your work and your discretion,” Namjoon said, dismissing her. She excused herself with a simple head nod, and the two men were again alone in the room.

“She’s going to get better now, right?” Jungkook asked, bouncing his leg anxiously.

“She should,” Namjoon said, seriously. “But this is not over, and we will be discussing what the hell happened here because if I am doing some of the mental math here, I suspect this…” he said gesturing to you, “is an everyone problem.”

Jungkook looked away. The older man wasn’t usually so serious or harsh with him, and if he was honest with himself it definitely hurt on top of everything else that was going on, not that he didn’t deserve it.

The pair sat in silence for some time. Namjoon stood at your bedside carefully monitoring your vital signs. As the minutes passed, steadily your vital signs improved, and steadily Namjoon was able to relax.

“It was good you got here when you did,” Namjoon finally broke the silence. “She would have certainly died if you hadn’t.”

Jungkook swallowed hard at that. The last words you had said to him before this all started echoed in his mind, swallowing him with guilt. Please don’t hurt me.

After about 30 minutes, Namjoon received a message on his phone, your lab results. Confusingly, almost all the values were low. Did you even have any blood in your body, no one can survive this kind of low. Namjoon knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, and just as he was about to look up and question Jungkook, the monitoring alarms started blaring.

“Fuck!” Namjoon cursed. “She’s having a reaction to the blood. That should be impossible it’s O- blood, no one reacts to that! I checked it 5 times, FUCK! He cursed again.

“What do we do?” Jungkook stood now, panicked.

“Stay here, I need to get some medications I will be back as fast as I can.” Namjoon typically tapered his mannerisms and movements to the human world he worked in. He moved deliberately slowly, but at this moment, he allowed himself to use the maximum of his powers. Truly in a flash, he had gone and come back with armfuls of different medications he wasted no time in administering.

“This is really bad, Jungkook,” Namjoon said, looking over your body anxiously. “Her blood levels are so low, no human should have survived, and now she’s reacting to the one type of blood that everyone should be able to tolerate. I can give her some medications to encourage her body to make more blood cells faster, but I’m not sure she’ll survive that long.”

Jungkook stood, running his hands through his hair pacing. “She asked me not to hurt her, Joon. She asked me and I did this to her. She trusted me.” His voice waivered, boarding on tears.

“If I am right about what I suspect, you couldn’t control yourself, Kook,” Namjoon said, attempting to be comforting.

Jungkook continued to pace, chewing on his nails as he watched Namjoon attempt to resuscitate you.

“What if she wasn’t human?” Jungkook suddenly asked.

“What?” Namjoon asked, spinning around.

“What if she wasn’t human? She does crazy magic and her blood tasted weird. Different. I’ve drank a lot of human blood and it was never like that.”

Namjoon drew in a breath, answering in a cool, measured way. “You mean to tell me this woman can do magic and it’s only now occurring to you she’s probably not human? What human have you ever met that possesses anything resembling magic? Never mind the fact that her blood was completely unlike any other humans you’ve tasted, now I’m thinking the next thing we should be testing is your head because I’m desperately concerned that it is entirely empty!”

Jungkook looked down, ashamed, at the older man’s chiding.

“No wonder she had a reaction to the blood I gave her! Explains the impossibly low lab values too, she’s a bit more durable than the average human. Don’t be mistaken, these medications will likely have limited effect on her, and she is still gravely ill.”

“What can we do?” Jungkook asked, eyes misty.

“We,” Namjoon said emphasizing the word. “Can’t do a whole lot. You can teleport to Baba Yena and hope she’s feeling charitable today.”

Jungkook groaned internally. Baba Yena was known to be exceptionally powerful, but exceptionally apathetic. Legend states that she was older than time, older than the gods and the powers that created them. She possessed incredible powers, but was, in a word, incredibly stingy to whom she blessed with them. Jungkook’s run-ins with the woman had been scarce, but the few times he had, were certainly memorable. At all costs, he had wanted to avoid being around her, but on the other hand, it was the least he owed you after nearly taking your life.

With a heavy sigh and crossed fingers, Jungkook walked to the center of the room, and in yet another puff of black smoke instantly disappeared, leaving Namjoon alone with your body.

He sat next to your bedside, going between monitors, checking medication flow rates, and staring at you.

“If you keep fighting, I will fight for you,” Namjoon said. “Welcome to the family.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook appeared suddenly and to his relief in front of a large, dome-shaped house. Baba Yena’s house was located in a pocket dimension, and without the proper talismans or magic symbols, teleportation here was… unreliable. The house itself seemed to be made out of packed dirt or fired brick, the roof overgrowing with moss. The house was seemingly the only thing in the pocket dimension, and aside from Baba Yena’s home and overgrown yard, a black abyss stretched on in all directions seemingly endlessly.

Jungkook steeled his nerves, walking up the short, rough stone walkway to the large, wooden front door. There was no door knob, Jungkook suddenly realized, but as he raised his hand to knock, the door flung itself open. Taking it as an open invitation, he let himself in.

The inside smelled fairly pleasant of wood, and for good reason. Betraying the fired brick exterior, the interior of the home seemed that of a log cabin or other wood-inspired architecture. In the entryway, there was a single spiral staircase going up, and corridors leading to who knows where on the left and right. If Jungkook focused his hearing, from the right direction he could hear a female voice humming and mumbling to herself. He decided to follow.

The corridor was plain with wood paneling, but most bizarrely seemed to stretch on for much, much longer than it had first appeared. Jungkook found himself walking first for 1 minute, then 5, and when 10 minutes passed and he still hadn’t reached the room he was walking towards, his anxiety heightened. He stopped, thinking.

“I seek your help, Baba Yena!” He called out. He waited a few seconds, and when nothing changed he thought of a new approach. Baba Yena was also called the Knowing Mother, and to her, information was worth its weight in favors. “A girl of an unknown race lies dying in a hospital bed, and without your gracious help, she will perish an unknown, and her secrets will die with her.” Jungkook waited a few more seconds. He felt a rush suddenly and was nearly knocked off his feet as a large, invisible force picked him up, and shot him forward, dropping him off at the threshold of the room once impossibly far away.

Jungkook entered the room which he quickly assessed to be a kitchen of sorts with black and white floor tiling, scuffed with age, a dark wood table covered in various ingredients, tubes, flasks, and other unrecognizable equipment, a ceiling littered with drying herbs and meats, and a sink next to a counter, on which is something that was clearly freshly butchered. On the side closest to him, there was a forge of sorts, a large stone pit full of red-hot coals, perched over which was a large, black cauldron, the depth of which was at least half of Jungkook’s height. Standing over the cauldron on a step stool was Baba Yena, a diminutive old woman. Hair silver and white was wild and long, her face a map of wrinkles and liver spots, and her hands, gnarled, twisted, and bony. If she noticed Jungkook enter, she didn’t show it and continued stirring whatever concoction bubbled loudly in the kettle.

Jungkook cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, attempting to get Baba Yena’s attention to no avail.

“Baba Yena,” Jungkook began, taking a tentative step forward. “I bring you information in exchange for some of your magic.”

Baba Yena didn’t look up from her work but finally spoke. “The Liar Boy comes to me asking for favors, tell me Liar Boy, how does that pendant serve you?”

“It serves me well, Baba,” Jungkook said holding it in his hand instinctually. “There is a girl, not human, not demon, not fae, not angel. She is dying.”

“I see…” Baba Yena stirs her pot more aggressively now, reaching up, plucking a dried herb from the ceiling, and mixing it in. “You, Liar Boy are the one who almost killed the girl…”

“I was compelled by the Smoke. It is my fault nonetheless, and I have come to beg for your mercy.”

“I have saved you once, Liar Boy. Many who come to my doorstep don’t have even that many chances.”

“The girl is unusual and powerful. She could be of interest to you.”

“You again offer the girl as a sacrifice, and yet nothing of personal sacrifice, how peculiar.” Baba Yena said with a small cackle.

“I have nothing left to give,” Jungkook replied, forlorned.

“I see the girl,” Baba Yena said, staring into her cauldron. “The horned one cares for her well, but she is as ill as you say and- ah! She is mated to you, she holds your final Fragment, I see. No wonder the Liar Boy again finds himself on my doorstep.”

“You understand why I humbly bring myself to your home. Allowing her to die would be a punishment too heavy for someone innocent, she is guilty of only trusting me. I intend to earn her trust in earnest, and I only ask for the opportunity to do so.”

“So it would seem…” Baba Yaga said, half listening. She stares intently at something, the light from the cauldron giving her an even more menacing look. Her eyes dart around as if watching something intently, and Jungkook watches as her face twists into a wolfish smile.

“I ought to sever your bonds and cast your soul to wander the Astral Sea for being such a pain in my side, Liar Boy. I will help this girl, but not without sacrifice from you.”

“Anything,” Jungkook said earnestly.

“Oh, I have something in mind,” Baba Yaga said, climbing down from the step stool and waddling across the kitchen before phasing through a portion of the wall, disappearing from view. Jungkook could still hear the sound of items being shuffled, glass clinking against glass, however. After a minute or so, Baba Yaga returned, a dusty, palm-sized, green potion in hand.

“Drink this and we will be on our way.” She said, handing him the bottle.

Jungkook took it from her, turning it in his hand, examining the liquid inside. It was a sickly lime green color, and he noticed, to the dismay of his stomach, that the texture of the liquid was actually quite viscous and grainy. He wondered if it was a poison, naturally, perhaps one meant to weaken him severely but never kill him outright. He had a mind to ask, but understanding how fickle Baba Yena was, he knew better. He lifted the cork out of place with a solid thunk, closed his eyes, and focused on not vomiting as he poured the potion down his throat. He didn’t fight the wave of magical something that passed through his body, bracing himself for pain or weakness. He opened his eyes and checked his body, felt his face, but somehow, he felt completely fine.

“You’ll know what it does in time, Liar Boy. Now come, let's go save this girl.”

#bts #bangtan #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #ot7 x reader #namjoon x reader #bts x reader angst #bts smut #bts x reader smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x you #poly ot7 #foundfatedforever #foundfatedforever part 3

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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Just a heads up! I'm posting parts 3 and 4 of Fated/Found/Forever tomorrow and the day after with lots of lore if that's anyone's cup of tea. We're building up to the good stuff! That being said I have two separate smutty one-shots for you heathens in the works! One is a minsung (stray kids) x reader, and the other is a joshua (seventeen) x reader, so if you follow me and are a multi you can also appreciate those coming soon!

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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Intertwined

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn

Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader

Content Warning: none

Word Count: 4.3k

You finally wake when the rays of the late morning sun warm your face and hurt your eyes. You sat up groggily, rubbing the sleep from them with balled fists. Unwillingly, the events of last night flood your barely continuous mind. The memories have you kicking at your sheets with frustration.

“What was his issue anyway?” You complained out loud. Maybe you’d never get to know. At least I get to say I’ve both instructed and kissed a member of BTS, you attempted to reason. The thought brings you little comfort.

While you set something fragrant to boil on the stove, you checked your phone, finally, scrolling through dozens of missed notifications due to your late slumber. Habitually, you checked for new work emails, the top of which gave you immediate pause. “SUBJECT: I’m sorry. SENDER: KIM SEOKJIN. You’ve got to be kidding me.” You laughed incredulously.

Dear Y/N,

Firstly, I would like to apologize for contacting you via your work email. In my rush to leave last night, I forgot to exchange more proper means of contact. I would also like to apologize for my behavior. I understand that it must have been, in a word, confusing. If you would be kind enough, I would greatly appreciate the chance to explain myself properly in person. The issue is more complicated than I have a great understanding of, so I would also like to bring Namjoon who has a better understanding of the circumstances. However, I wouldn’t want to impose or make you feel like you were being ganged up on.

Please understand we will take no further action with you, and should to ignore this correspondence we will take it as your disinterest in the subject matter and we will leave you alone.

Best,

Kim Seokjin

“Jeez, this guy is uptight.” You mumbled, reading the message in totality. You sighed, sitting back in your rickety kitchen chair. Confusing is an understatement. You thought to yourself. But you also couldn’t deny that curiosity clawed at your insides. You sipped your hot, spiced cider, the taste giving you comfort and confidence. Something is telling me to hear them out, Dad. You thought to yourself. I just hope the cinnamon is enough.

Dear Kim Seokjin,

Sending emails is cumbersome, so here is my cellphone number. Text me whenever you’d like.

Thank you for apologizing. I will decide whether or not I accept it after our meeting. It may be sudden, but I took the day off of work today. If today does not work, you can make arrangements with me after the studio closes every day at 10 pm.

Best,

Y/N

You type the email and hit send before you can overthink it too much. What makes a man go from ready to take you on the floor to running out the door you couldn’t fathom, but you certainly looked forward to finding out.

It was about 2 hours later your phone buzzed with a notification, a text this time.

Hello, this is Jin. We all have schedules this morning, but Namjoon and I will be finished around 5 pm. Is it alright if I go ahead and make dinner reservations? Is there any place you like in particular?

Dinner reservations? You mused to yourself. That sounded formal, more formal than you were comfortable with. Dinner reservations were for dates, of which this meeting was certainly not.

Dinner is fine, but there is no need for reservations. I’m in the mood for Mediterranean tonight, so you can meet me at Olive and Thyme at 7. You replied.

Your phone buzzed again soon after sending.

Olive and Thyme at 7. We will be there. Thank you.

At that you tossed your phone to the other side of the couch, settling back into the cushions, zoning out to whatever insane dating reality TV show was on. Speculation is going to get me nowhere. You reminded yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a while since you had a reason to get dressed up, you realized as you curled your freshly washed and dried hair. Except the concert you had attended just 2 days prior, you could list the occasions you had to dress up for in the last 20 years on one hand. The thought makes you sad.

Your theme is cute but casual, you reminded yourself as you selected your pair of favorite high-waisted jeans, a plain crop top to match, and a light jacket to go over. There was also no need to go overboard with makeup, a little bit of skin tone-flattering eyeshadow, mascara, and a pink lipgloss would be plenty.

Of course, you didn’t forget about your ears. You’d had the pointy pains in the ass your whole life, and as such, you had discovered dozens of ways to hide them away. Your hair was down today, so pinning them back with a dab of spirit gum on the back side of each was more than enough coverage.

You stood back, admiring your handiwork in a standing mirror in your bedroom. Cute and casual, you decided. It was while looking at your reflection, that you also realized how remarkably well you had been taking things. Just two days ago, you were a faceless fan in a sea of other fans. You were meant to enjoy a fun performance and return to your daily life, and yet impossibly, not but 24 hours later, the oldest of BTS was running out of your dance studio after a steamy make-out session, and now supposedly wanted to meet up to discuss something cryptic. It was absurd, anyone would agree. Even in your most delusional of fantasies you couldn’t have dreamed up something more ridiculous. Maybe that was what was keeping you calm, sane. Maybe this was all just a crazy dream.

The time to leave fast approached, and with those lingering questions you found yourself in the back of an Uber on your way to destiny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The interior of the restaurant was dated in its decor and sparsely populated, even when it was time for the dinner rush. You were the first one there, the aromatic smell of spices and wine hit you like a wall causing your stomach to clench painfully in hunger. The hostess was a small, mousey woman, who upon your request, sat you in one of the booths on the far side corner of the restaurant, more privacy, you figured.

Quickly the cool-headedness you were able to maintain from the safety of your home gives away to waves upon waves of anxiety. Bouncing your legs and chewing your nails was all you could do to relieve some of the pent-up nervousness as the seconds felt like hours. You cursed yourself silently for needing to arrive early.

Your suffering is somewhat short-lived, however, and as the clock hit 7:00 on the dot, the bells on the entrance door chimed as two handsome, well-groomed men walked in. It was easy to identify the pair as your evening guests.

They were nicely dressed in outfits not dissimilar to your own. They too spotted you easily, and with a swagger in their walks that made you need to look away, they both slid next to one another in the seats opposite to you. It was weird, though. Having both THE Kim Seokjin AND Kim Namjoon sitting across from you should make you feel 10x more anxious than you had before, and yet, slowly, you felt the tension in your shoulders come to dissipate, and when you really focused, the buzzy, electrical feeling from the previous night was becoming more and more prominent.

“Thank you for meeting us,” Jin took the lead. “This is Namjoon.”

You cracked a smile. “I know.”

“Well, I didn’t want to presume…” Jin trailed off embarrassed. You didn’t think you had ever seen Jin get embarrassed before, it was cute.

“Hi,” Namjoon said, offering his hand to you. You took it, and before you could greet him back, the very same warm, tingly sensation zipped up your hand and down your spine. Your smile quickly faded as you found yourself needing to grip the table to reorient yourself.

“Woah…” you breathed, shaking your head to clear some of the building haze.

The two boys looked at each other, then back to you.

“We’re going to talk about that, actually,” Namjoon said. “But first let's put our orders in.”

It was easy enough to flag down a waitress and place your orders. Small talk was easy to pass the time until your meals were served.

“So…” you began, picking at your salad. “Every time I touch you guys I get a weird feeling, whenever I am around you guys I get a different weird feeling, and at least Jin was acting weird around me.”

The pair sat back in the booths and sighed, before looking to one another.

“I’ll start,” Namjoon said. “What do you know about soulmates?”

“Basically what everyone else knows.” You stated. “One true love and all that. Although…” you trailed off. You triggered a memory, distant at first but grows with clarity when you concentrate on it.

“Daddy, what’s a soulmate?” You asked, book in hand, curled up in your reading nook in his laboratory.

“Well I suppose that depends on who you ask,” He said, not pausing from his work. “If you ask most people, I think they would tell you that it was someone they love a lot, or maybe someone who they feel like they’ve known for longer than they’ve actually known them.”

“Hmm.” You responded. “What if I don’t ask most people?”

“Hm?” Your dad asked, confused.

“Well, you said if I asked most people, that they would say all that. What if I don’t ask most people.”

“Ah,” He said, holding up two liquids seemingly comparing them. “Well, some other people would tell you that soulmates are different than just people you love a lot. They would tell you that souls are real, and when a soul is created, it is created alongside another. Usually, they are created in pairs, but it's not unheard of for them to be created in groups larger than that. Each soul is placed in a different vessel, but it will always pine for the soul it was created with.”

“Woah…” You respond in awe. “What happens when you meet your soulmate?”

“They say when you meet your soulmate, you’ll just know.” He said, notating something down in his journal. “Your soul calls out to theirs, long lost lover and friends reuniting after millennia. You burn and ache for the other until your souls are finally tied in a tying ritual. The tying ritual gives you a bond that you can communicate simple ideas or feelings over.”

“Wow! What kind of ritual do you have to do?” You asked, curiously.

“Oh well,” he paused from his work, looking away. “It is a bit too complicated for you now, but when you get older I will explain.”

“Do I have a soulmate?”

“Of course, you have a soul don’t you?”

“Ew. I don’t want a soulmate, Daddy.”

He laughed at you, walking over to you to pat your head.

“I’m afraid there are just some things in life that we cannot control, Pumpkin. Besides, I’m not going to be around forever, and it makes me feel better that you’ll have someone to keep you company someday.”

“Nooo!” you whined. “Who else is going to make strawberry rhubarb pie with dinosaurs? You have to stay around forever, okay Daddy?”

He laughed at you again, kissing the top of your forehead before returning to his work. “Sure thing, princess.”

You shake your head bringing you back to the present as the memory flicked by. “Souls are created alongside other souls and put inside of people who then spend their whole lives looking for each other and once you find the person you just know and you can tie the souls together and they’ll be happily ever after.” You summarized from your memory.

“Pretty much,” Namjoon said. “I was worried you were completely unaware. Have you ever met anyone you felt that way about?”

“Like just knowing? Not really.” You admitted with a shrug. You had loved before, certainly, but you guessed that soul mates were something bigger, much more profound. Someone you loved and knew deeper than summer romances and puppy love.

“We have,” Jin spoke up this time.

“Oh,” You said, eyebrows coming together in confusion.

“But I kissed you, you must be now wondering,” Jin said. You nodded slowly in response.

“When you are near me, what sensations do you feel?” He asked.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. “I feel like there is a current running through me, and the more I spend time with you and the closer in proximity to you I get, the stronger the feeling gets. My brain gets dizzy and hazy like I’ve had a few glasses of wine, and yet my acuity is still razor sharp. And when I touch you, it feels… weird.” You confessed. When I touch you it feels really good and it makes me want to touch you endlessly you added in your mind.

They shared a knowing glance before Namjoon spoke. “THAT is the feeling. THAT is knowing.”

“Huh?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I thought knowing was more of an abstract concept, like wow it feels like I have known this person my whole life, I think I want to marry them someday.”

“In the movies, absolutely,” Namjoon agreed. “But those feelings are your soul, physically calling out to ours.”

“You’re kidding.” You said, unbelieving.

“Let me ask you this then,” Namjoon begins. “Yesterday when you were kissing Jin hyung, I bet it felt so, incredibly right, right?”

You looked at Jin. If you could be honest with yourself, you wanted to climb over this table and kiss him again. Maybe then he’d bend you over the table and take you right here, Namjoon’s hands on you helping bring you to completion- you cut yourself off before the thought can continue further.

Namjoon looked at you knowingly.

“So if I am to believe that what you are saying is correct, I am the soul mate to both of you.” You asked, matter of fact.

“We are suggesting that you are all of our soulmates,” Jin stated, looking at you seriously.

“As in, all 7 of you.” You asked again matter-of-factly.

They nodded in response.

You laughed, exasperated. “Bring out the cameras because this is un-fucking-believable. This has to be a joke.”

The serious expression on both of the boys’ faces says otherwise.

“I know this must be a lot to take in,” Jin said honestly. “It was a lot for me as well. And the others.”

“What?” You asked, confused again.

They share a look and Namjoon nods encouragingly before Jin speaks again.

“We are actually all mated to each other, all 7 of us.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “You guys are as close as you portray online.”

The pair chuckle at that.

“Me and Yoongi found each other first and from there we found different members at different times. Every member struggled with it in different ways, so you probably aren’t alone in anything you’re feeling right now.” Namjoon said.

“You said mated. What does it mean to be mated?”

“Oh, it just means that we marked each other.” Namjoon rolled up his sleeves, showing off two gashes, dark in coloration one next to the other. “We all have one. You can either accept the pairing and become marked, or reject it and become a single soul.”

“What is the marking process?” You ask.

“You don’t know?” Namjoon asks, before putting on a serious face. “In short it is a bonding ritual involving sex.”

You flushed red at that notion. “So if I wanted to be marked by each of you I would have to…” You trailed off, imagery and fantasy flooding your brain causing you to snap your knees closed. Namjoon looked away, swallowing hard.

“Yes,” Jin states plainly. “But there is a rejection process as well. None of us are familiar with it, but if that is the choice you’d want to make we’d happily assist you with that.”

“We should be a little more clear with you as well,” Namjoon looks at you again. “You have full choice and freedom in this case, but ultimately, now that you have found your soulmates, the empty, hollow feeling you will have when we are apart, and the buzzy electric feeling when we are together will become more and more unbearable as time goes on and if you don’t make your choice at all, it will drive you mad.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“A few days, a week at maximum.” He answered earnestly.

“You are right this is a lot to take in.” You sighed heavily. “With all due respect, I know you based on some well-edited clips and your music. You are all attractive as hell don’t get me wrong, but I don’t know you, and intertwining your life with someone you have an entirely parasocial relationship with is, in a word, insane. And for you guys too, you don’t even know me.

“That is true, but we didn’t know any of the members that well when we went through the mating ritual,” Namjoon said with a shrug. “Besides, did you really think the universe was so unkind as to leave you without a way to break the bond? People can change, become abusive and cruel, and with or without your partner's consent you can break the mating bond at any time.”

That brought you some comfort. At least there was an ejection seat if the shit hit the fan.

“This is a lot to process,” you stated, rubbing your temples in frustration.

“I am the oldest, but I was the fourth to join,” Jin started. “When I found out I was pretty upset, I had a solid lifestyle going for me that I didn’t intend to give up.”

“How did you overcome that?” You asked.

“It was Namjoon that convinced me,” he said, gesturing at the younger man. “He asked me to get to know them. That the divines or the universe or fate had good intentions and I would be sorry if I didn’t at least try.”

“I was a bit heavy-handed and naive,” Namjoon cut in, embarrassed.

“At any rate,” Jin continued, “I resolved to give it a month. I wanted to date them, get to know them, you know?” He laughed. “I think I barely made it a week. Something about the all-consuming pull of your soul is hard to resist.”

“I bet…” was all you were able to mumble in response. “I feel bad,” You confessed. “About the whole getting-to-know-you thing.”

“What do you mean?” Namjoon asked.

“I think it’s fairly obvious that I am a fan,” you began, “and while I can’t claim to know you, I would certainly argue that I know each of you just a little more than you know me.”

“We have forever to get to know you,” Jin said with a wink. Namjoon elbowed him in response.

“For starters, I’m sure you understand that our public personas are different than our public ones,” Namjoon began “But put more politely, Jin is correct. In the way that some humans go through with arranged marriages that sometimes work out, sometimes something bigger than us calls us to make a leap of faith and trust that it works out.”

“That sounds like we are putting pressure on the situation. I think I speak for both of us when I say we meant to simply arm you with the most amount of information we can provide. Besides, on the getting-to-know-you front, we know more than you might think,” Jin said.

“Do tell.” You stated, raising an eyebrow. “It appears you somehow found out who I was, and further that I was a dance teacher.”

“I know you’re hiding some cute ears under all that hair,” Jin said with a lilt.

You instinctively reached up to make sure they were still in place. “How could you possibly…” you mumbled.

“The truth is,” Namjoon started, lowering his voice. “We aren’t exactly human either, and our, shall we call it, conditions, allow us to sense the energy of different creatures.”

“So you’ve known the whole time?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“Pretty much,” Jin stated.

“Sorry, that's just like, probably my biggest secret and it is just out there so I’m a little off-put. Not that it’s your fault just, in conjunction with everything…” You trailed off.

“We thought it important that you also knew,” Namjoon said. “That we are vampires.”

“Vampires?” You repeated. “All of you?”

“Yes,” He replied.

“No wonder you are all so unearthly attractive,” you mumbled under your breath.

They both chuckle at that.

“When we meet a soulmate, sometimes something darker, more carnal comes out. Vampires, once they are connected with their mates, can only feed off of them. All other blood becomes a virulent poison, so everything in a vampire’s body commands them to claim and mark their mate as soon as possible. Prevents their only food source from walking away.” Namjoon stated.

“That’s why I kissed you suddenly in the studio,” Jin explained. “It’s not that I didn’t want to already, but I had resolved to not make any physical contact with you until all of this had been laid out, but the way you were looking up at me, the feeling of your hand on my body, your smell in that warm, closed room…” he trailed off before clearing this throat. “It was too much to bear. It brought out that dark side and well, you were there. I’m sorry for doing that without giving you the proper context.”

“It’s fine,” You admitted. “Truthfully, I wanted you to kiss me, and I enjoyed it.” I wanted you to do more, you thought to yourself. “I was more hurt and confused when you, superhumanly I am now realizing, left with barely a word.”

Jin’s expression was nothing if not apologetic. “I realize that must have been upsetting, and again I’m sorry for that too.”

“But wait,” You began, tilting your head to the side. “If you are all vampires and are mated to each other, then do you drink each other’s blood? Do you even have blood in your body to drink? And if a vampire can only feed from their soulmate once they’re found, what happens if rejection occurs?”

“Yes and no,” Jin said. “It is actually a myth that vampires don’t have blood. The vampire toxin mutates the blood of the person being turned and makes it so it's the only way for the new body to get energy. Problem is, vampiric blood isn’t very nutritious and it takes forever to regenerate by itself, so we have to supplement with animal blood usually. It's barely edible, and not that much more nutritious but it's better than being dead.”

“Fascinating,” You said. “The universe really fucked you all over making you all mates and vampires then, huh.”

“Tell me about it,” said Namjoon.

“Well, what about my other question?” You asked.

They exchanged uncomfortable looks.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Namjoon said gravely.

“I thought we were being honest with each other?” You asked, feeling slightly frustrated.

“We are, it’s just…” Namjoon sighed. “It would add stress to a stressful and confusing situation and I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“Well, now I am worried!” You exclaimed.

A few beats of silence passed between you all.

“Just tell her, Joon,” Jin said.

Namjoon sighed at that. “When a vampire is rejected, or when a vampire’s bond is severed, the vampire dies. Jin mentioned that we can subsist on animal blood for nutrition, but what he didn’t mention, is that the consumption of energy is also part of what vampires consume when they eat blood, and once you find your soulmate, it is only their energy you can subsist off of.”

“So you’re saying…” You trail off, flabbergasted, before starting again. “You’re saying should I choose to reject you all, I am dooming you to starve to death and die.”

“You understand why I was reluctant to tell you.”

You put your head in your hands, head spinning with the information dump of the last hour. How could it be in just 48 hours you went from a passing fan to suddenly, apparently, being the deciding factor whether or not BTS dies? It was too much to handle, and with the added pressure, you felt like your head was going to explode.

“I need time.” You managed to say.

“Perfectly understandable,” The pair agreed.

“I have to go, I think,” You said, starting to stand up. “It was lovely to meet you but being so close is messing with my mind a little.”

“By all means,” Namjoon said. “Don’t worry about the check, it’s the least we can do.”

“Okay, thank you.” You said, standing fully now. “You have my phone number, text me any time, I guess. Bye.” You began somewhat robotically walking away from the two men who had just turned your life upside down, out of the restaurant, and into the cool early night air.

You walked for hours, the outside had always been a place of meditation and peace for you. Your mind swam, full of questions and concerns. On one side, your heart soared at the chance to be with BTS, by all appearances they were hot, funny, kind, and interesting people that just about anyone would sell their grandma to be with. On the other side, you worried. About how you didn’t really know them personally, how they didn’t know you, how stupid and impractical it was to make a life promise to someone you barely knew let alone 7 someones, and most importantly, it concerned you how loudly something deep within you called for you to accept them. Now, there was the added pressure of not killing them. If only you were here, you sighed inwardly. You’d tell me what I should do.

Somehow, you found yourself full, your feet sore, and no closer to a conclusion. You collapsed on your bed, exhausted, sleep finding you and carrying you off as soon as your eyes closed.

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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Intertwined

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn

Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader

Content Warning: none

Word Count: 3.5k

You woke up the following morning to the blaring of your alarm waking you from a restful sleep. Instantly, you are in a bad mood. The post-concert blues were hitting like a truck. How were you meant to go back to regular life after a night like that?

You pick up your phone, scrolling through work emails. I’ll have the payment for this month’s tuition tonight! The twins will be missing from the 10 am hip-hop intermediate class! Ms. Y/N I really think I’m ready for pointe! You sorted through the usual sort of emails when your eyes landed on a more unusual email. Private lesson request. That’s weird. You muse to yourself, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you open the request, sliding yourself up into a seated position in bed.

“1 adult lesson, style is hip hop and modern…” You mused out loud scrolling through the details. “9 pm is cutting it a little close 1 hour before closing, but it says you’re prepaid so…” You trail off. “Approved!” You announced out loud before hitting the confirm appointment button through the appointment portal. “What was the name anyway?” you scroll back up and snort at the answer. Kim Seokjin? That had to be a joke or a crazy coincidence. Either way, you were definitely going to have to ID this new client. Imagine if it was him - the thought amuses you as you begin your day, preparing for a day of classes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite your initial grumpy start, and perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery client who, you admit you’ve been dreaming about being Jin all day, but the day passes you quicker than you first believed. Not even Roberto in your toddler dance class 1, his endless energy typically giving you an endless headache, broke your stride today.

You waved the last student out, shutting the door and locking it behind you. Can’t be too careful these days. You reminded yourself. You glanced at your watch, 8:15. Perfect, 45 minutes until Mr. Kim Seokjin walks through my front door. You thought to yourself, bemused.

Putting aside your delusion, you organized the studio for a private lesson, and most importantly, you could slip into the back and enjoy a light dinner. On your phone, you sighed dramatically as you found yourself flipping through photos from last night. When will I ever get to experience something like that in my lifetime? You whined inwardly, bemoaning your modest finances. Maybe in another life 100 years or so, another group will pop up and you will have saved enough to get the same seats. Maybe. Your daydreaming was interrupted, however, by the unmistakable sound of a locked door trying to be opened.

Your eyes snap to the time. 8:58 pm. Shit. How could I have let time get away from me like that? You snap up from the paper-cluttered desk and run, as fast as your legs will take you through the studio room and into the reception area. It was the person visible through the glass that stopped you dead in your tracks.

You blinked once, twice, and rubbed your eyes for good measure. Holy. Shit. HOLY SHIT. THAT WAS KIM SEOKJIN. KIM SEOKJIN IS STANDING OUTSIDE MY STUDIO RIGHT NOW. Amidst your internal, slack-jawed panic, Jin stood just outside, black t-shirt and baggy pants hung off him effortlessly. He held up a phone screen and pointed at it, saying something you couldn’t make out through the glass.

Let him in you idiot! Your inner voice scolds. I can’t give a dance lesson to Kim Seokjin! I should be asking him for advice! You fired back. Let him in, idiot. She says, firmer this time which is enough to break you out of your stun.

You walk up to the glass door, and with a trembling hand, undo the latch and swing open the door.

“Sorry, I had a lesson scheduled for tonight, if now isn’t a good time I could reschedule.” He offers politely. He thinks I forgot.

“No, no come in please!” You said as you opened the door wider for him to slip in. “I didn’t forget it's just uh,” He made eye contact with you “...robberies.” It was all you could finish.

“Right well, no worries!” He said, his disposition relentlessly sunny despite how badly you were screwing this up.

“Oh sorry before I take you back,” You start, and again the voice in your throat dies into a timid squeak as you finish your sentence “I just really to see some ID and if you would change your shoes I would really appreciate that you see its just house rules and-”

“Sure. No problem. Here’s my ID,” he said, handing it fully to you. Can I sit here and change my shoes?” He asked, gesturing to the bench next to the reception desk.

“That is exactly what it is there for. I will sign you into the system so it won’t change you the no-call no-show fee.” You plopped down at the desk, ID in hand. “Is there a reason why there is a sticker over the numbers?”

“Oh yeah, I have to show my ID sometimes and all it takes is one person with a good memory and bad intentions to steal my identity. I am sure you understand.” He said, slipping on a pair of clean, white sneakers.

“Oh wow yeah, I guess that’s true. A lot of weirdos out there, huh?” You asked, sliding the ID back towards him.

“Tell me about it.” He said, picking up the card. “What do you think, more handsome in real life, right?” He asked with a wink.

As if reflexively, your eyes rolled before you had the forethought to process how rude it might have appeared. Jin laughed heartily.

“No sorry! Force of habit!” You said, putting your hands together apologetically. “Of course, you’re more handsome in person!”

“No no!” He said, still laughing. “It was a funny reaction, genuine.” He added, sliding the card into his wallet. “Shall we?” He asked gesturing to the dance studio.

“We shall,” you said, leading the way.

The studio lights had been dimmed, the normally bright, overhead fluorescent lights seemed too sterile for a one-on-one interaction. The rest of the equipment had been put to the sides of the room, leaving it completely vacant with the exception of the worn tape on the floor demarking where students were to stand.

“So let's start with some stretches.” You said, sitting on the floor in the center of the room. Jin followed your command wordlessly. You turned yourself at an angle to him, feeling immediately more at ease. It was easier to deal with him on your periphery. There was a sensation, one that you had been able to ignore on account of your nerves that had been present, you now observed, since he had first arrived. It felt like blue zaps of electricity buzzing through you, and as you spread your legs, lean forward into a split, and feel the stretch, it clicks. This was the feeling you had at the concert. The electric current, the dizzy, hazy feeling that washed over you when you locked eyes with them, it was coming on stronger and stronger, and it was making you bolder.

“So,” You began. “Let's start with the basics. What brings you to a random dance studio when your company has plenty of dance teachers and choreographers?” You ask, stretching an arm across your chest.

Jin mirrored you. “Let’s call it happenstance. Besides, the greatest way to learn is to be taught by many teachers.”

“Okay, Confucius.” You teased. “What did you want to learn today?”

“I want to learn whatever it is you are learning.” He said matter-of-factly.

You snorted. “I doubt you want to learn what I am learning.”

“Try me.” He said, standing up.

You followed his lead, standing. “If you insist.” You said with a shrug. From the back wall of the studio, you dragged two chairs to the center of the space, about 5 feet apart. “I have been choreographing a routine using this.” You said gesturing to the chair.

He knitted his eyebrows together in concern for a moment, before the expression dissolved, as did his resolve.

“Alright,” He began, “Show me first, so I can get an idea of what it is you are referring to.”

You walked over to the music player, set a 10-second delay, and walked over into position. As the beat hit, you moved your body with long-practiced poise and grace. The routine was like lovers making love for the first time, slow, explorative, and careful to begin. As the song continues, though, the intensity rises before BANG! The finale.

You lost yourself in the music, whatever high that crept into your system made you carefree and light. You put your everything into every moment, and as you grinded and body rolled, you never forgot whose eyes were on you. You didn’t shy away.

As the song finished, you let loose the final, explosive move, a visual orgasm to finish the routine. You let the silence hang for a moment while you caught your breath, without the music, shame began to reach through the haze.

“Well…?” You asked, turning around. You weren’t sure what you expected him to look like, or even how you expected him to react, but as you turned, a dark, hungry, and heady expression sat on Jin’s face. Where before he had been kind, respectful, clinical, even, your heart rate rose and a scarlet blush traveled up your face as you couldn’t help but imagine what he was capable of. “Jin…?” You asked again, taking a step toward him.

As you do so, he blinks and shakes his head. When he looked at you again, his expression was once again as kind and friendly as it had been before. “Sorry.” He said “Got a little lost in thought there. That was amazing, where did you learn to dance like that?”

“I’ve been practicing my whole life,” You said. “I’d like to think I came out of my mother’s womb dancing.” You said with a chuckle.

A slightly uncomfortable silence hung in the air before you cleared your throat to speak again.

“Did you want to learn however much of that we can in…” you glanced at your watch “20 minutes?” You asked.

“Oh, sure!” He said. “It looks like fun.”

You walked over to the media player, setting the song’s tempo slower, and began the process of breaking down the dance, beat by beat. Sure enough, being the professional dancer he is, he is an extremely fast learner, never needing to go over the same part more than 3 or 4 times before he has it memorized. You watched him carefully, allowing yourself to be slightly more critical of him than you might be with a more inexperienced student.

“This part,” you demonstrated, rolling your body with practiced fluidity, “needs to be sexier, more fluid.”

“How is this?” He asked, his movements still stiff.

“Not quite.” You said. “Pardon my French, but pretend you’re… well…” you trailed off.

“Making love to someone.” He finished for you.

“Right.” You agreed.

“How about this?” He asked, a perceivable jerkiness still present.

“Hm.” You mused to yourself. “I think you aren’t using the right muscles. Give me your hand.”

He offered his hand to you, wordlessly.

You grabbed his hand, opened his palm up flat, and placed it on your stomach. The physical connection sent a strong zap through your body. Focusing on your breathing, you followed through, allowing him to feel the way your muscles were contracting as you did the movement. His expression was hard, unreadable.

“So… did you feel that?” You asked pulling his hand away.

“Yeah… I did,” he said, his voice far away and dry. “I definitely did.”

“So uh, you try now.” You said, feeling shy.

He did so without comment, and the visual of which causes something to tighten within you.

“Yeah, that looks a lot better.”

“Could you,” he began “Ah, never mind.” he cut himself off.

“Hm?” You ask “I probably don’t mind so ask away.”

“No, it sounds kinda pervy.” He said, looking down, ashamed.

“I don’t, uh…” You stammered, unsure how to process what he just said. Was this guy about to ask me to what, take my clothes off so he can see better?? What the hell?

“Oh god that made it sound really bad.” He blurted. “I just wanted you to feel to make sure I was also using the right muscle groups but that sounded kind of weird sorry!”

“Oh!” You laughed. “You should have said as much. That’s no problem.”

You walked closer to him, placing your flat hand on his abdomen. You noticed now, as your hand connected with his body, warm tingling spread through your hand. It felt good, you decided, but the unexpected sensation had you pulling back your arm in shock.

“Sorry. “I got zapped.” You lied.

Placing your hand back on his abdomen, through his t-shirt you could feel the hard, lean muscle. The warm, tingly sensation returned, and you watched and felt, mesmerized, as those hard muscles contracted and relaxed through the roll, resisting the urge to cross your legs to relieve some of the building pressure inside of you.

The proximity, the connection, it swirls through you and you find yourself transfixed, looking up at him. Your breathing is heavy, the current running through you, the haze swirling through your mind, and the tension and heat that was building in your core, it was almost too much to handle. You blinked up at him, his expression dark and unreadable. He looked down at you too, bringing a hand up, cupping your face gently. He searched your expression for a sign of protest, and when there was none, he dipped his head down, and soft, gentle lips met yours.

You immediately felt breathless, and everything inside you was screaming, chanting at you to keep going. Maybe it was the dizzy way he made you feel, but this all felt so undeniably right. The kiss deepened, your lips parting to one another as you excitedly and feverishly explored one another’s mouth. He didn’t seem to dare to take the next physically, but you needed him.

You ran your hands up his body and then around his neck, using the new position to press yourself flush to him. He moved his arms down, wrapping solidly around your waist. He backed you up slowly until your back was against the cool mirror of the studio. He pinned you there, placing his hands on each side of your head, against the glass. His arms flexed and relaxed with heavy practiced, restraint, as it took every fiber of his control not to rip your clothes off, take you, and mark you as his on this studio floor.

He pulled away, suddenly, taking 3 halting, jerky steps backward. “I’m really sorry about this.”

“Wha…?” You ask, dazed and confused.

“I have to go.” He said, his voice serious and strained. In a flash, he was gone, with the sound of the front door closing behind him the only evidence he was ever really there.

In the complete silence, the heated haze that filled your mind subsided slowly, and your mind worked in overtime to process the series of events that had just happened to you. An achey feeling blooms in your chest and a different type of heat spreads to your face, embarrassment. What the fuck you thought to yourself, he probably thinks I’m some kind of crazed slut. You allowed yourself to sink to the floor, pulling your knees into your chest tight. What the fuck is his problem anyway, he kissed me first, you reasoned. Maybe I am just a god-awful kisser, you added bitterly. Maybe I took things too far. Maybe I made him uncomfortable. Fuck uncomfortable, he started it! He pinned you against the wall, he absolutely loved it. Two parts of your mine argued back and forth. Whatever the case, sitting in your dim studio feeling bad for yourself didn’t bring you any closer or make you any happier, so you resolved to pick yourself up and bring yourself home.

You jammed your keys into the keyhole of your front door, unlocking it and entering your quiet apartment in a numb, dissociative daze. If you gave yourself 100,000 guesses this morning to guess as to how your day would end, you still wouldn’t have guessed you’d find yourself in the position you were in. Sleep tonight would be impossible, you decided. You made your way to your bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, grabbing one of the large, brown, glass bottles inside, shaking it tentatively. The last of the medicine you sighed inwardly, shaking the last two tightly-bundled, pill-sized leaf preparations from the bottle. When the nightmares would keep you awake, Dad would bring you two of these with a glass of warm, cinnamon-spiced apple cider. “These will help you sleep,” He said, handing you the pills. “And this,” he continued, “is full of spices to keep the monsters away.” Handing you the mug of hot, fragrant liquid.

“Like what?” You asked, voice still trembling from crying.

“Cinnamon.” He told you, climbing into bed next to you.

“Monsters don’t like cinnamon?” you asked, putting the bitter pills on your tongue, swallowing quickly.

“Can’t stand it,” Dad said, wrapping an arm around you, holding you close to his side. The contact is comforting. “One sniff of it and they go running for the hills!”

You giggled at that. “It must suck to be a monster, then.” You decided.

“Most definitely.” Dad agreed.

The memory was bittersweet. You swallow the bitter preparations, speed through your evening routine, and slip in between your sheets, already feeling the drowsy effects blossom through your body and mind. With the last of your cognition, you grabbed your phone, sending a mass email. You needed a break.

Dear students and families,

I have come down with something and as such, I will be suspending all classes for tomorrow. The following day, however, classes will return as scheduled. Thank you for your understanding.

Best,

Teacher Y/N

You hit send, and allow your eyes to close, sending you into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I can’t get through,” Namjoon said, eyes closed, eyebrows knit together with concentration.

“Should we go up to her place?” Taehyung asked, looking at the older man, concerned.

“No,” Jin said, voice stern. “We have done plenty.”

“We?” Jungkook snorted. “Hyung, last time I checked it was you who planted one on her, not us.”

Jin shot him a dirty look. “If we had sent you, you would have lost control 30 seconds into being there and we would be having a much different conversation right now.”

Yoongi walked over to Jin, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “You are completely sure?” Yoongi asked, his tone flat, measured.

“As I have said 100 times over, yes,” Jin said, pushing down the growing irritation in his voice. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault he had gone too far. The way you looked up at him, the feeling of your hand on his body after he had just touched you, watched you move, he couldn’t help himself. He only hoped now that you felt the same way.

“She could have taken something and that’s why you can’t reach her, right Namjoon-hung?” Jimin asked, running his fingers absentmindedly through the older’s hair.

“Mmm.” He grunted in affirmation. “She could also have a talisman or a barrier spell preventing me from getting in.”

“So she’s probably fine,” Jimin said, voice calm.

“Probably.” Namjoon agreed, sighing and allowing himself to slump fully onto Jimin, looking for comfort.

“Well,” Hoseok chimed in. “Feeling bad or anxious isn’t particularly productive. Jinnie-hyung took things farther than he intended, but it sounds to me like she was probably okay with it. What probably freaked her out was you up and leaving without so much as an explanation like an antisocial weirdo. That would cause anyone to overthink.”

“He’s got a point,” Yoongi said, his arms now draped over Jin’s shoulders, holding him in a back hug.

“I know,” Jin said with a sigh. “If I could go back and do it differently, I would. But don’t you think by blocking us out she probably wants to be left alone?”

“How would she know Joonie-hyung’s powers?” Jungkook said. An obvious question, perhaps, but a brief silence settles over the group. It is a good point.

“The way I see it, we tell her or we don’t, and we need to decide which pretty quickly,” Hoseok said.

“I would want to know if I were her,” Taehyung said.

“Me too,” The group agreed.

“So we offer a connection,” Yoongi began. “Contact her, apologize for being a weirdo, offer to meet up and explain some things.”

Jin flinched at the weirdo comment. “Let her decide,” He said, “It’s not a bad idea.”

“Then let's do it,” Taehyung said anxiously. “I hope she says yes.”

“We all do,” Jimin said, grimly. “But now, we wait.”

#bts #bangtan #suga x reader #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader smut #namjoon x reader #ot7 x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #ot7 x reader smut #ot7xreader #bts smut #intertwined #intertwined part 2

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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I'm working on intertwined parts two and three but I am high off my ass on Xanax and this is what we are working with:

"That is tue, but we didnt like, know any of the members when we fucarted fucin them so dw about it"

I hope you all enjoy the trash fire that comes of these parts!

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2

“You want to WHAT?” You asked him, eyes wide,

“Lower your voice! Someone next to you is gonna hear you yelling like that and call the bouncer.” He hissed.

“Well I’m thinking that might be the right idea considering what the hell you just proposed to me.” you hissed back.

“It’s not that crazy!” He insisted. “I step out of line, you blast me with radiant damage as hard as you can and if you don’t outright kill me, you’ll take the wind out of my sails plenty long enough to get far away from me.”

You regarded him for a moment. “You JUST got through saying you had SIX mates. I know having two or three is rare, but you expect me to believe that you might have a SEVENTH mate and it might be me? We were vibing just now but I don’t know if we were vibing that hard.”

“I also told you it's the same with each of my mates, something tells me I need to be somewhere, and by a crazy coincidence, we meet.” He adds. “I will know right away!”

“Ugh!” You sighed, exasperated, resting your head in your hands. “You know 3 hours ago I walked into this club single, happy, looking to get drunk and have an easy fuck to forget a shitty day, and I’m walking out having saved a woman from a demon rapist, pissed off or turned on that demon rapist, and now I have a marriage proposal from the aether.”

“I can help with some of those issues, I think? You lost me there for a second I’m not going to lie to you.”

You didn’t reply.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. We had a great conversation over a strange and scary happenstance, and if you would rather go our separate ways as strangers having never learned the truth, then I respect that choice. Or the cheap fuck, if that option is still on the table.”

You smacked him for the later remark. You sat, contemplative, and as if sensing you needed space, Jungkook excused himself for a cigarette, leaving you alone with your watered-down whiskey and your thoughts.

I mean what are the chances right? He takes a little nibble, he spits it out, I take him back to mine, and we test out that vampiric stamina. It’s basically impossible that 1 person has 7 soul mates! You reasoned. On the other hand the one in a million, no billion, no TRILLION chances that you are this guy’s 7th sister wife what does that mean? Do I join his commune? They probably have a commune. Am I bonded to his other wives? Are they also vampires? I don’t think I have enough blood to go around. You rub your temples, frustration rising higher and higher in your body. I could also not choose. You reminded yourself. I could go home, forget this man, forget this night, and have everything go back to normal.

Interrupting your thought process, David approached you. “You look mighty stressed.”

“Yes!” You just about yelled at him. “Sorry, yes.” You said in a calmer tone.

“Bar’s chill for the minute, what's up?”

You obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, but what if you were vague? Vague was okay. “I was confronted with a life-altering choice, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how do you usually make choices?” He asked, leaning back on the bar and crossing his arms.

“I don’t. I find that fate has a way of making decisions for me.”

“Well…” He shrugged, digging in his apron pocket. He slid forward a shiny, silver coin on the table. “You can have fate choose for you again.”

You looked at him, then the coin. It’s my best bet. You thought to yourself, sliding the coin off the bar and into your hand, feeling the weight of it. May this lead me to the path of my destiny you willed into the coin before giving it a toss.

The coin landed, and you understood what it was you had to do.

~~~~

You met Jungkook on the street, just as he put a cigarette out on the cold pavement.

“Hello,” he regarded you warmly.

“I’ve decided.” You tell him. “Strings of fate and all that horse shite. I will blast the shit out of you if you take more than I tell you.”

“You have my honor and my word.” He replied, punctuated with a dramatic bow.

“Remember, blasting! And not the fun kind!” You warned him again, finger pointed sternly.

“I would be disappointed in you if you gave me anything less.”

“Anywhere really. I mean somewhere a little private. Like I said I just need a sip and I will know.”

“Is my house okay? I mean you said you’d fuck me so I’d figure it was alright.” You asked, feeling shy suddenly.

“Oh yeah, that’s fine!” Jungkook said. “I mean I was joking about the fuck thing I mean I just said it because you said it!”

You looked at him with a strange expression.

“Not that I wouldn’t! You are extremely attractive! If you wanted to I would definitely be down don’t get me wrong I just-” He cut himself off. “I am making this so much worse for myself, aren’t I?”

“Very much so.” You said as you opened your umbrella and stepped out from under the awning. “Shut up and let’s go before I change my mind. The Uber will be here in a minute.”

~~~~~

You lived in a one-bedroom place in a modest part of town, inside an apartment block that never seemed to be quiet, with the exception of this moment. Jungkook sat politely at your small kitchen table, you stood and leaned against a kitchen counter, the silence hanging between the two of you only interrupted by the sound of the rain hammering at the window, and the kettle steadily coming to a boil. You regarded him again for a moment, before turning to your cabinets and pulling out two mismatched mugs.

“The tea will be done in a minute.” You said, ripping open the tea bags, setting one in each cup. A few more minutes of silence passed before Jungkook stood suddenly.

“I’ve never done this before,” He blurted.

You take a moment to process what it is he could mean by that. He’s mated so he’s certainly not a virgin, seems to be over a hundred so it’s not his first time drinking blood you thought, before your mind wanders further. I did not just invite this man into my home to kill me. Tell me I did not invite this man into my home to murder me. God DAMN it, I fell for his stupid necklace and that incubus is probably waiting for his signal nearby.

“I suggest you explain yourself quickly and clearly, because it is sounding to me like what you’ve never done is have your ass blasted as hard as I am about to.” You said, turning around slowly, eyes locked on him. No funny business dude.

“I wasn’t completely truthful with you before. A lie by omission I guess which doesn’t trip up the necklace but I am going to stop rambling because you seem really justifiably mad.” He said putting his hands up. You took a step closer, energy beginning to crackle at your palms.

“Every single time I met my mates, I was called to meet them by happenstance. That is true. But every single time they knew, or guessed we might be mates before I did. So I have never personally tested the whole “someone else’s blood or energy should be poison to me” theory.”

“So you have no idea if this is even going to work!?” You yelled at him, palms crackling further. “So I’ve just invited you into my home so you can what, make a snack out of me?”

“I know it works!” Jungkook countered, taking a step back as if almost cowering.

“How?!” You demanded, lowering your magic a bit. You weren’t going to kill him, not yet anyway.

“30 years ago!” Jungkook blurted nervously. “One of my hyungs, we got into a huge fight and he ran away for a few months. He subsists on energy, and when he tried to take from people that he wasn’t mated to, it poisoned him. Badley. He was starving and as close to death when we finally found him.”

You look at his necklace and wait. No glow. So he was telling the truth. You lowered your guard completely.

“Jesus Christ dude you can’t phrase it that way! I thought you were going to say “I’ve never done this before, never murdered!” and then jumped me with that incubus freak.”

“No, you are right about that and I am really sorry.” He took a step back toward you, sitting back at the table.

“If you know it works,” You began, pouring the now boiling water into each prepared mug. “You didn’t have to tell me you’d never tried it personally.” You said, placing each up on the table and joining him at the opposite seat. “It has no bearing on the outcome for you, so why did you feel the need to tell me?”

“Ah well,” he began, stirring a scoop of sugar into his tea idly. “I’m a stranger, asking you to make a big leap of faith that sure, benefits you, but also benefits me. I couldn’t sit right with knowing you didn’t have every piece of information I could offer you.”

“I… appreciate that.” You remarked, dumping 3 ice cubes into your tea. “I don’t like to wait for it to cool,” you admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“No, I don’t get the impression you do like to wait for much,” Jungkook replied, offering his cup to cheers with yours. You clink mugs and drink your tea in comfortable silence.

~~~~~

“So how is this done usually?” You asked him, standing face to face in your combined living room and bedroom area.

“Truthfully?” He asked you.

“Truthfully.” You confirmed.

“My kind typically have been the stalk you, grab you and lure you into a dark alleyway and drain you of all your blood or charm you with magic and charisma and lure you to a place where we do the same thing, sort of people.”

“I am confirming that that is not what we are trying to accomplish?” You half-jokingly asked.

“That is not what we are trying to accomplish.” He confirmed. “I want you to be comfortable. However, wherever would be the most comfortable for you is where I want to do it.”

“Um, okay.” You looked around. “I guess for me that would be my bed, that isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” He confirmed, allowing you to lead the way.

“But-” You stopped halfway before getting onto your bed. “It’s just my duvet is white, maybe I should put down a towel? In case things get messy.”

He scoffed at that. “I am not such a pedestrian, I reckon I have been drinking blood since you were born.”

“Are you sure about that?” You looked him up and down. Vampires didn’t age, sure, but surely he couldn’t be THAT much older than you, right?

“If I get so much as a drop on your duvet, I will replace it with any duvet of your choice.” He said, placing his hand on his heart.

“It doesn’t mean that much when you place your hand over an undead heart.” You said knocking his hand off his own chest. “But you’re not glowing, so I will take your word for it.” You said, sitting down. “Come, sit.” You invited him with a pat on the bed. He obliged.

“Hey,” You began, after letting a few beats of silence pass. “Do you think we could just lay side by side for a few minutes?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He said, following your lead and sliding himself up the bed, laying comfortably on one side, you on the other.

A long silence hung in the air. “I fuck strangers and this is somehow the most intimate I’ve been with one ever.” You remarked sarcastically. Jungkook chuckled lightly in response,

“Me too.”

More silence hung, heavy in the room. You laid back, eyes boring holes into the ceiling. He too laid, unmoving, this is all on your terms he was communicating. You shut your eyes.

“What does it feel like?” You whisper.

“The bite, or the connection?”

“Both”

“The bite hurts for a second, but it goes away pretty fast. Vampire venom has powerful numbing properties. Some people even feel peace or euphoria, it's supposed to keep you from running from us once we have you.” He paused before continuing. “The connection is, overwhelming, in a word. Everything in your body turns up to 11, you become very magically charged, emotionally charged, physically charged and, uh, sexually…” He cleared his throat. “Charged.” He finished.

You sat in silence, digesting that information. You roll over on your side, facing him, he mirrors you.

You spent a few more minutes, studying his face in earnest. At this proximity, there was a boyishness quality you didn’t notice from far away. It was cute, even, bunny-like, and as you stared at him, you searched your mind, your heart, your soul, desperately looking for recognition, the easy way out, one last chance to avoid the leap of faith.

“What if I am mated to you?” You whisper

“We will figure it out.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Before we begin, I told you before you might lose some of your sense once we begin. Where is a line too far? Where should I stop you? Where should I stop me?”

“The troubled, sarcastic, sad part of me knows I can’t trust anyone.” You said, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “But something deep inside of me is telling me that you are truly good people. And for once, I am not going to push this one away.” You whispered, voice wavering. “Just, don’t hurt me, okay?”

He didn’t reply, but he held your gaze.

“Jungkook?” You ask softly.

“Hm?”

“Would you kiss me please?”

He then scooted closer to you and mirroring the motion you did before, he raised a hand, cupped your face gently, and placed a single, lingering kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, but a centimeter, I’m ready, but only when you are, he communicated to you. You closed the gap this time, I’m ready.

The kiss started off slow, chaste, even as two bodies, two energies tentatively explored the other in the more intimate environment. Jungkook was a good kisser, you decided, firm, but not too pushy. He allowed you to set the pace, the intensity, but what you gave he took readily. You parted your lips to him, and he took them greedily, using his free hand to hook around your back and drag you across the bed and completely flush with his body. You found your arm folded into his chest, the building intensity causing you to grip the fabric. You kissed greedily now, hungrily, like lovers long since reunited. It felt good, it felt right, you also decided. Kissing him was like the gentle respect and deep intimacy shared between two people who had loved each other for a long, long time. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, and you wanted more.

Your arms were at a disadvantage, pinned against his muscular chest, but you used the position to pull yourself closer and closer still. You needed more of him. You wanted more of him.

“Jungkook…” you whispered against his lips, a plea.

“I know, God I want you too.” He whispered back his arm like an iron bar across your lower back holding you in place. “But we have to do this first, sex makes everything so messy and confusing.” He broke away from your lips, kissing up your jaw bone stopping at your ear. “I’m gonna do it now, okay?” He whispered.

“Okay.” You confirmed. You found yourself then, in a swift move on your back with him straddled across your waist. From this angle, his baggy pants tented visibly over his crotch, the sight of which alone wound your core up so tight, you wondered if you’d cum immediately when he slips it in. He didn’t give you long to appreciate the view, as he leaned over you, face to face, and continued to kiss you. Your tongues didn’t battle but danced in harmony, and as you felt your hips rise to grind against the hardness so close to where you needed it, he broke away from your lips again, panting, he again peppered kisses up your jawline, but then down your neck this time gently sucking and licking on his way down, leaving you breathless. He settled on the spot but gave the skin special attention, the sensation of which had you sighing and running your fingers through his hair.

When he was finally satisfied, he wasted no further time and sank his teeth in, the sensation of which made you yelp in pain. He didn’t lie about the pain. After a brief pause, you felt the sensation of him drinking you in. He swallowed once, came up for a breath, and in that moment, from head to toe, it was like you had both been struck by lightning.

Overwhelming wasn’t the right word for it. Euphoric. Pure energy crackled and popped at your skin, literal sparks flying off at the points your skin connected. It was painful, you thought, but everything felt so amazing it faded into the background. Joy, pure joy radiated through your body. In fact, you can’t recall a time when you had ever felt this light-hearted and happy.

In the same moment, as euphoria washed over you, Jungkook’s demeanor changed and with a visceral, animalistic grunt, he dove back in sucking at your neck. The sensation was divine.

“More, more” You found yourself begging again and again. He was like an immovable object in his current positioning, but you allowed yourself the luxury with your now-free hands to slip under his baggy shirt, relishing in the corded muscle of his back and biceps.

The more he drank, the closer it seemed you got to the edge of something great. As something darker and harder to control overcame Jungkook, he didn’t notice when your enthusiastic pleas for more turned into incoherent babbling, and only when he had his fill, and the dark that consumed him receded, did he finally realize that you had fallen silent for quite some time.

He pulled away from your neck and examined your body in horror. Limp, and unmistakably ashen. You looked like a corpse.

“Y/N,” He said, panic in his voice, shaking your shoulder. “Y/N!” he said louder now, yelling and shaking you as violently as he dared.

Fuck.

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

I told you guys one after the other! Like I said in the last post, I'm working on intertwined, that update might go up today or tomorrow, depending on what I'm feeling, I only promised this post! I also mentioned before that I will update the tags once I reveal which bts member is what/ what Y/N is but try to guess below! You might be right~

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yeoja-dream · 3 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

156 notes · View notes

yeoja-dream · 3 months

Note

Could you write an ot7 x reader fic where the reader feels they arent good enough because they're not particularly skinny but not fat and feels they're not that talented compared to the boys? Pretty angsty but some fluff? ❤

God. You sigh inwardly looking at your body for the millionth time in the standing mirror of your bedroom, jeans unbuttoned wide, mocking. The perspiration on your brow from exertion tells the rest of the story.

You had gained weight. Again. As if it wasn't hard enough to be the girlfriend of the seven most talented men on the earth, all muscle and grace. The picture of masculine beauty, and you, textbook mediocrity.

You kick the pants off in anger, hot tears stinging your eyes as you flop back onto your bed. You are going to be late for work. You scolded yourself. Fuck work. You snapped back like the world would come to a screeching halt if one cashier at Francine's was 15 minutes late.

What happened to the diet? Your inner critic asks, voice dripping in bitter sarcasm. They work so hard and you can't even look good for them? People would laugh if they saw you together.

Your phone buzzes, bringing you temporarily out of your shame spiral. You wipe away your now-flowing tears to see the message light up your screen.

Jiminnie ❤️: Good morning everyone ꜀( ˊ̠˂˃ˋ̠ )꜆

You smile somewhat bittersweetly to yourself. Jimin, always the first one up, always the first to tell everyone good morning. You recall, briefly, the day when Tae beat him to the punch and how he pouted the whole day.

Y/N: Morning chim~ Have an amazing day today! ❤️

Jiminnie ❤️: You too!!

Have an amazing day. Well, you could certainly try. You pick yourself off your bed and select a frumpy sweater and a baggy pair of jeans. It was cold, anyway, you told yourself disguising your plummeting self-esteem in faux practicality. You studied your face in the mirror, plain, if not a little pretty, but certainly not superstar-worthy. You swipe on some waterproof mascara and don your sneakers before the self-criticism has a chance to sink in.

Work was awful. You were so swept off your feet with customers, that you had barely had time to glance at your phone in between getting screamed at for not carrying certain sizes or being out of stock. You had slipped to the stock room more than once to put your waterproof mascara to the test. Last double I ever work. You say to yourself, shutting the lights, arming the security, and slipping out the back.

The autumnal night air had a wintery bite to it, you regret not bringing a jacket. It is only now that you have the chance to read your phone, slightly wincing at the piled notifications from the day. Most recently, you read:

Yoongi 😻: Finished working with Namjoon a little while ago. You must be done soon too. It’s cold, so I am going to come and pick you up. Did you eat?

Y/N: How presumptuous, Mr. Min~

Your tone is sardonic, but really, you're glad for the ride as a chill begins seeping into your bones. Before long, you see his black sports car pull up and you waste no time jumping in the front. You had done this routine before.

“Hi,” Yongi says, looking you up and down before leaning in for a kiss.

“Hi,” you say back, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“What? Is that all I get?” He quips in faux hurt. “Oh did you want to make out right now, leave Namjoon to drive?” You tease back before turning to face the man in the back seat. “Hi,” You greet him as well, offering him your hand.

“Don’t let me stop you” Namjoon says with a chuckle, “I just didn’t know you were looking to die today.” He then picks up your hand, placing a gentle kiss on the knuckle. “Hi, baby.” He said with his signature, dimpled smile. The sight of which clenches your heart, the words from your shame spiral this morning coming back full force. You don’t deserve this.

“Where am I dropping you off?” Yoongi asked. “Did you eat? We could get dinner.”

“My place, please. I had a big lunch and I think I’m just going to reheat some leftovers for dinner. You guys go ahead.” You lie, but you were in no mood to be eating food in front of them.

Yoongi looked at you, piercingly as he always does. Just when you think he’s going to call you on your lie,

“Alright.” He says, before putting the car in gear. Your apartment is only 10 minutes away, but Yoongi goes the long way letting you rant about stupid customers and annoying managers. By the time he pulls up, you feel better and you realize, he knew you needed that. A lump forms in your throat at the notion. You offer the pair a kiss, before sliding out of the car as quick as you can go, lest you start crying again. Yoongi waits until you’re inside, safe before pulling off. He always does. You don’t deserve him. You don’t deserve them.

Dinner is another mental warzone as you peruse your kitchen, biting commentary from two halves of your inner voice. After what happened this morning you don’t deserve to eat. The boys wouldn’t want me to starve. You’d be so much prettier if you were skinny. Starving isn’t a good way of weight loss anyway. The mental back and forth is exhausting, so you settle on a sandwich and settle on the couch.

TaeTae: You wanna ft? I miss youuuuuu why didn’t you come over today???

The message lights up your phone. You respond by calling him. He picks up right away.

“Y/N!” He exclaims. Even disheveled, he looks amazing. After catching up on the group chat, you learned that the maknae line had the day off and had a “staycation” as they put it while the hyungs were busy away.

“Hi Tae” You giggle back at his enthusiasm. It was infectious, it always was.

“Why didn’t you come over today?? We missed you!” He pouts.

“I am tired, Tae. And I have work early tomorrow and the following day. All doubles.”

“Jeez. I swear you work harder than us!”

You could laugh at the insinuation. They were multinational artists, constantly writing music, performing, dancing, recording music, recording content, and you folded clothes and got screamed at by people 10x richer than you for 12 hours a day. You would hardly call that working harder. You keep the thought to yourself.

“EY YO.” You hear Jungkook's unmistakable voice shout in the background. “IS THAT Y/N?”

“Yes, but I’m talking to her!” Tae says ripping the phone away from his dongsaeng as he flopps down on the couch next to him.

“Hey, I wanna talk too!” He says, yanking the older boy’s arm back so the two of them come into view.

“Hi, kookie.” You say, giving him a small wave.

“Y/N! I’ve been locked in the house all day with these schmucks, can you believe that?” Jungkook says, exasperated.

“Hey!” Tae shouts, offended. “You weren’t complaining about being locked in when me and Jimin brought you pancakes in bed. Or when we did face masks and painted our nails!”

“Yeah, we did our nails, look!” Jungkook says, ignoring the rest of Taehyung’s remarks. On Jungkook's hand, he has nicely painted black nails, on Taehyung a well-manicured clear coat.

“You did an amazing job!” You say giving them a small round of applause.

“We miss you.” The youngest says after a few beats of silence. The sincerity pulls at your heart.

“It's only been a week.” You say sticking your tongue out. “I miss you all too.” That at least was the whole truth.

“Well you’re busy and we’re busy…” Taehyung trailed off. You understood what he was getting at. No matter what you felt for them, there was always going to be miles of difference between you and them. Different leagues, solar systems.

“But don’t be busy this weekend! Saturday~” Jungkook reminds you AGAIN. The boys had been teasing you for weeks about this surprise. You couldn’t forget if you wanted to.

“I have to go to bed.” You half whine, stretching.

“GOOD NIGHT WE LOVE YOU SLEEP WELL” They yell at you in half unison before hanging up.

“I love you too.” You say to no one, before getting up and going to bed.

And so the days passed like that, days rushed off your feet, nights full of loud face times, and spare thoughts dedicated to your inadequacy. Pushing every single worry, every bitter thought down, lest you worry them with your stupid problems. They had plenty on their plate. You were so boring, untalented, plain. They shown brighter than the sun, thousands of beautiful, perfect successful girls would kill to be you. Should be you. You lucked into this position. Just because you were in the right place at the right time. Just because Jin was so friendly. You tricked him. He just introduced you to everyone else because he pitied you. They just pity you. You can’t even be happy around them. You can’t even be fun for them. What do you provide them? It was suffocating. They deserve better. They deserve better. They deserve better.

Friday night you walk home, music blasting through your earbuds, tears running down your face. It was the wind, you say to no one, bitterly wiping them on your sleeve. You finally understood what you had to do. Saturday, when you met up, you’d thank them for everything, and let them find someone worthy. For their own sake. You wouldn’t let them waste any more time on you.

Sleep was fitful and tear-stained that night, the night soon passed, and Saturday morning came.

The group chat through the day was uncharacteristically silent, save for Jimin’s obligatory good morning text. Fuck, you were going to miss that.

In terms of the plans tonight, you had been given instructions to show up at a certain place by 5 pm. Even when inquiring about what you should wear was vague, anything you felt like. You felt like crawling into a ball of self-pity and hiding under the sheets, but still, you pulled yourself together enough to ready yourself for anything. Pulling the place up on Google Maps revealed it to be a warehouse of sorts. Weird. You thought, clipping your earrings in and pulling your shoes on as the Uber blared its horn obnoxiously outside.

You went for something practical, but cute. Tennis skirt with thigh-high socks, a button-down blouse to match, and a puffer jacket. Makeup was light, and minimal. Cry proof, you were going to break up with 7 men you had come to love after all. It was for their own good. You reminded yourself.

The ride itself was as blissfully silent as an Uber ride can be, and not long. Outside of general city limits, there was marginally less attention and fewer chances of a slip-up. Being seen with you was the last thing they could afford.

The Uber pulled away leaving you in front of a large, white warehouse. This was some kind of industrial complex, you noted. Double checking the warehouse number with the number JK had sent to you 2 weeks prior. This was the place.

A feeling of unsettlement crossed your mind now, in the time you had known these men they had never once given you pause to worry, let alone make you feel unsafe. And yet, here you were, alone in a line of massive, empty warehouses. A bit of fear began to prickle under your skin and your scalp. They wouldn’t hurt you, right? Hell, maybe this is the merciful way out. A dark side of you thought.

Without wasting any more time, you stepped forward opening the door and stepping into total blackness.

The temperature was fine, temperate even. The scent of woodland, peat moss, and petrichor was thick in the air. Seconds in the dark felt like hours, panic sets in and you take a step backward, feeling for the door. Before you can grasp the handle, the lights come on all at once, and several voices shout HAPPY ANNIVERSARY at you.

You visibly jump, startled, but then audibly gasp at the scene before you. The warehouse had been decorated, floor to ceiling to resemble an enchanted forest. Large trees stood relatively tall in the vaulted ceiling of the space, their gnarled limbs covered in deep green vegetation, moss hanging from them like beards. Lights and glass baubles hung too, their glittering looking like forest spirits in suspended animation. Impossibly, from somewhere high and unseeable, light streamed down through the tree tops, golden and warm as the real sun. The floor seemed to be made of real, deep green moss that squished slightly under your feet. You noticed that there seemed to be several large stones forming stepping stone paths through the moss and into the fake woods. Feint music and animal chatter could be heard too, bringing the space to life. In front of you sits a large, stone arch, twisted with vines and seemingly weathered with time, though which was a clearing, where sat 7 of the most beautiful men you had seen in your life at a long, beautifully decorated, rich dark wood table.

The boys had dressed themselves in complete congruence with the environment. They each wore long hair of varying lengths some shoulder length, some to the waist, but all done up in a manner of braids, flowers, and gems. Each wore a manner of robes and belts of several different colors, draped and tied perfectly to emphasize their physique. It hits you at once what this all is, and nothing could stop the torrent of tears that spring forth as a result.

“Oh! Wait, those seem like upset tears!” Jin is the first up and rushing over to you. “We were hoping for happy tears not upset tears!”

“God damn it you guys I told you so many times we should say something and that we were going to scare the shit out of her on accident!” Namjoon said in a huff, standing up and making his way over to you. The rest follow behind, all echoing cheer-ups and apologies alike.

You sob openly now into your hands, and even with all 7 of the men you have grown to love surrounding you, you lock your abs and you don’t allow one to pull you into a comforting embrace. Jin is the first to speak again.

“Y/N, what has gotten into you? We just wanted to do something nice and memorable for our 1st anniversary together.” Jin said with a level of love, concern, and sincerity that something in you finally snapped.

“Why. Are. You. Being. So. Fucking. Nice. To. Me.” You ask, demand in between heaving sobs.

“Because we love you!” Jungkook answers first, and everyone answers in the affirmative.

“I. Am. Fucking. Worthless.” You sob again.

“Don’t say that!” Jimin says this time, trying to grab you, hold you. You resist him again.

“First I am so up my own ass I can’t be bothered to remember that it's our anniversary, and you guys go and do something so nice, so beautiful for me. I can’t give you anything. All I do is take. You are all so perfect and beautiful and talented and I am just a plain worthless girl, working a dead-end job, with a shitty flabby body and plain face who tricked you guys into caring for me. I drag you down. We live in different worlds and I am tired of watching you all pretending I’m worth anything more than a cheap fuck.” The words fall out in a blubbering mess, a stream of words, feelings, and sentiments bursting forth after being pent up for a year. You can’t bring yourself to look at anyone in particular, so you study the floor.

“Enough.” The voice rings out so sternly it stops your torrent almost in its place. You look up as Hoseok, who had been standing behind everyone else, pushes his way to the front, standing directly in front of you. His face, normally the definition of sunshine and joy, only held fury.

“First of all.” He began, clipped and stern. “That dead-end job keeps you so busy you hardly have time to eat and shower, so you’d be forgiven for forgetting.”

“But- You begin before Hoseok cuts you off.

“I am not finished. Second, I’m grateful for that dead-end job because it lead us to you. If you hadn’t been working at that boutique, Jin-hyung would never have met you, and I wouldn’t have ever met you in return. Lastly,” He begins, stepping forward another step, holding your face in between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to make eye contact with him. “You can talk shit about anyone you’d like, but you are not ever to speak that way about anyone I love. Not to me, not to any of them. And further, you are not ever, and I do mean ever, to tell me who I am and am not permitted to love.”

At this angle, you search his face, and you find anger, so much anger, but more so you find hurt and love and honesty. Tears well again in your eyes, but this time when Hoseok pulls you into his arms, you don’t resist him. One by one, everyone piles into what is, ostensibly, the cheesiest group hug ever, but you can’t find it in you to care. You cry again for what seems like ages, breathing in the mixing scent of them and allowing yourself, finally, to let them love you.

After your crying stills, you break apart and survey the group, more carefully this time. They had even themed their outfits around it.

“My dream.” you sniffle and gesture to them, then the set behind them. “Our first group date, I told you about a dream I had as a little girl. The enchanted forest and its 7 protectors. You even dressed up as them.” You say in a half laugh. “The dragon,” you said gesturing to Namjoon, “Gumiho,” You say pointing to Jimin, “Hydra,” You say pointing to Yoongi, “Fae King, Werewolf, Griffin, and Phoenix,” You say, pointing to Jin, Jungkook, Hoseok, and Jimin respectively.

“The very same,” Yoongi says with a bow.

“Wow…” You say, breathless. A silence falls on the group before you speak up once again. “I am… sorry.” You start.

“Don’t be!” Various maknae line members clamor to interrupt you.

“Let her finish,” Namjoon says sternly.

“I have been feeling this way for a long time. I think it's been building up from the beginning, actually. I have always felt like you guys were all a billion times more attractive than me, and I started to feel like on top of that, I was talentless and useless in comparison. I never wanted to burden you with my insecure ramblings so I kept them buried and I guess they ate me alive a little. A lot. Truthfully I came here ready to break up with you.”

“What?!” The group of voices collectively reacts.

“No I mean I didn’t want to but I felt super useless and ugly so I thought you were just wasting your time with me I mean I love you all so much and I feel so grateful and lucky to have you but it was for your own good that you found someone else-” You begin spouting off.

Jin takes your hand, interrupting your stream of consciousness “I thought we’d exchange the sweet stuff at dinner but there is no greater time than now. I consider meeting you to be one of the luckiest days of my life. And I know I can speak for everyone and say this past year, you have brought so much joy and intrigue and fun into our lives and we wouldn’t give you up for anything or anyone.”

“Besides.” Yoongi grabs your other hand, giving it a light kiss. “You are a terrible liar. I could see you were suffering from something inside. I know what that's like.”

“AND” Jungkook adds loudly “NOT THAT IT IS ABOUT THIS” he begins loudly, “AND WE VALUE Y/N THE MOST FOR HER KINDNESS, HER CONSIDERATION, HER WORK ETHIC, HER SPUNK-”

“Get to the point.” The group says collectively.

“Y/N to me, to us, you are a work of art. You can’t see yourself the way we do. Your face belongs in a Monet, your body is as if it was sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. Even the little things you do, the way you tie up your hair when you are trying to concentrate when you throw your head back and laugh when something is really funny, when you pace around the apartment when you're on the phone, you are beautiful”

“Aw, kookie…” You clasp your hand around your mouth, before wrapping your arms around him.

“God please no more tears,” Taehyung says, desperately.

You laugh, letting go of Jungkook. “Tae, I don’t think I have any left in my body.”

“Listen, everyone, I can’t promise you this discussion is going to make the voice telling me I’m inadequate to go away. But what I can promise is that I will talk about them. I won’t let them build up so bad.”

“That’s all we would ask of you,” Namjoon says in return. “Besides I’m kind of worried who the hell we’ve been dating this last year if you think we are perfect!”

“Without getting personal,” Jimin pipes in “We are all at least a group of barely functional, workaholic perfectionists who don’t eat enough, don’t sleep enough, and who care far too much what the public thinks of us. And that's just what applies to all of us, forget our individual faults.”

“True…” You concede. “Is it still too late to enjoy whatever this is?” You ask, gesturing toward the table.

“No not at all!” They all scramble away, leading you to the table. You immediately notice that apparently, a meltdown was not in the card for the evening, as lit candelabras were now dripping hot wax onto the table runner. Various foods dotted the table, sat in warming dishes to ensure they didn’t get cold while they waited. It was a variable fragrant smorgasbord, and you were starving.

“I feel a little underdressed…” You admit, looking at them and then at your outfit. “You guys could have at least told me the dress code.” You said, teasing.

“OH SHIT RIGHT.” Jungkook jumps forward, bowing deeply and putting on a commanding tone. “Fae king, get the lady her vestments at once!”

Jin rolls his eyes at the younger’s commanding tone, but reaches under the table and pulls out a large, white box. From which he pulls out a deep green dress with several accessories and piles them into your hands. “If the lady would be so kind to change over there.” He said, gesturing to a tasteful rice paper screen that stood about 30 feet to the side of the table.

“She would.” You say, giving a little curtsey, walking off to change. The dress was form-fitting but in all the best ways. What you didn’t notice before, was that the dress was heavy, dotted with crystals made to look like you were covered in the morning summer dew. Over your shoulders sat a long cape made of leaves, arranged in the gradient from green, to yellow, to orange, to red, to brown. Atop your head, a crown of wildflowers and fruit tree blossoms, and a scepter for you to carry, clear crystalline in its structure, topped by a frosted glass orb from inside which, a dull blue light shown.

“It’s clearly season-themed…” You begin as you step from behind the screen. “But why?” You ask, taking in their expressions.

Your heart rate quickens and you feel the heat rise to your face as the group goes silent, somewhat slack-jawed. Some wear expressions of hunger, and desire, others of pure awe and love, but no doubt you hold all their attention.

“What?!” You ask demandingly, embarrassed.

“You look…” Jimin starts

“Perfect.” Yoongi finishes.

“Thank you” You offer, voice unsure. You somewhat walk over to them feeling awkward, but flattered.

“Queen of the forest.” Taehyung offers.

“Huh?”

“Queen of the forest.” He repeats. “That’s what your dream was missing. We protect the forest, but we still needed a queen.”

The depth of the metaphor forms a lump in your throat. You clear it before speaking. “Well, it’s beautiful. This is all so beautiful. Thank you, I cannot express my gratitude enough.”

“Thank you. For being here. For being you. You are everything we need you to be.” Jimin said with a sweet smile. “Shall we eat?”

And with that, the evening dinner festivities take off. The lot of you spend the evening drinking too much wine and sharing your favorite stories from the year together. At the end of the night, you go back to their place where you can all snuggle in Namjoon’s massive bed, and as the wine takes you to sleep, it occurs to you that maybe, you are right where you are supposed to be.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the request it only took me 4 years, 9 months, and 18 days to complete

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yeoja-dream · 3 months

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This post got me insta terminated but I'M BACK BITCHES

If this gets 1 (one) like I will go back to writing and finish my fics AND finish all of my ask one-shot requests

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yeoja-dream · 4 months

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If this gets 1 (one) like I will go back to writing and finish my fics AND finish all of my ask one-shot requests

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yeoja-dream · 3 years

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Intertwined

Part 1

Pairing: BTS OT7 X Reader Genre: Fantasy, Magic, Eventual Smut, Plot, slight slow burn Characters: Vampire!BTS, Elf!Reader Content Warning: Anxiety Word Count: 2k

You felt your heart skip a beat in your chest as you readied yourself for the BTS concert, playlist on shuffle. After what felt like DECADES of saving, you had finally saved enough money for front-seat tickets to see your favorite bangtan boys, and now the moment was upon you; you could hardly breathe. While you no doubt admired the people who had the guts to wear something edgy and hot, you decided to aim for something more comfortable, as you knew you would be standing and jumping for hours, and you didn’t want to miss a moment lamenting about how much your feet hurt.

You went for a pleated plaid skirt, a white, long-sleeved button-down, and a comfy knit sweater on top, with a pair of clean white tennis shoes to match. You studied yourself in the mirror for a moment; perhaps you weren’t a kpop concert baddie, but damn, did you look cute in your own right. You then fixated your attention on your hair when a small zip of anxiety shot through you—your ears. While most of the other parts of you were nothing if not normal, your ears which joined in a peak, were a surefire way to give away your true heritage. A trait that, if picked up on, always lead to raised eyebrows and invasive questions. You sighed as you picked up a beret, admittedly a cute accessory to the outfit, and tucked the tops of your ears into the hat, pinning them to your head and concealing them effectively. In your many years of existence on this planet, this had become an exhausting ritual to perform on the daily, but one that you knew, undoubtedly, kept you safe. Besides, everyone else would be too focused on the performance to pay attention to you, right?

However, you were going to be damned if this hiccup was going to get in front of seeing BTS perform. Fixating on your makeup, you applied a natural, glowy look that complemented your outfit very well. With a final adjustment of your beret and an annoyed text message from your uber that you had left to wait just a little too long, you all but ran down the steps from your apartment and made your way off to the concert hall.

To say that the stadium was packed was, to say the very least. Living in a city, you were no stranger to feeling like a single fish in a vast sea, but as you were nearly shoulder to shoulder with thousands of people trying to make their way into the stadium as you were, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach roll with anxiety once again. You were feeling claustrophobic and like it was hard to breathe, but the thought of a stunning performance from your favorite group encouraged you to persevere. By the time you had found your seat (incredible, touch the stage seats, you didn’t know what you had done in your past life to be able to refresh Ticketmaster that fast, but you were beyond grateful), all of the anxiety had turned into electric excitement. The anticipation of thousands of excited armies singing along to the pre-concert music wiped away and trepidation or self-consciousness you had before.

Before long, the concert started, and a heart-pounding performance of Dionysus begun. It was enrapturing, the combination of their live vocals alongside with their live visuals and performance, you found yourself almost frozen in awe. As the concert continued, you couldn’t help but notice this electric current running through you from your head to your toes, making your hair stand on end. It wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was unlike anything you had felt before. As the members drew closer to your position near the stage, the current felt stronger, almost painful as they drew so close that you could touch them. On top of the new onslaught of symptoms, you could have sworn you had caught all of the members at some point during the performance stealing glances at you. Your suspicion was confirmed when you noticed Taehyung looking at you. As you locked eyes for all but a second, you got dizzy, having to clutch the barrier between you and the stage for support as you steadied yourself.

“Jesus Christ, I need to touch grass.” You chided yourself. “When did I become such a delulu fan?”

You put the interaction out of your mind for the rest of the concert; after all, surely they gave all the fans that kind of attention, and you were sat right up front after all. The electricity was just from the energy of the concert, nothing more, right?

You walked out of the concert in a blissful daze. The concert had been more than you had dreamed of and more. Everything was incredible, from the performance to the vocals to their sheer real-life visuals. The closing speeches had made you grateful more than ever that you had worn waterproof mascara. In the sea of people making their exit from the stadium, you felt like you were floating, high off the energy. Looking at the sheer volume of people trying to leave, you decided your best bet was to walk home, as the 30-minute walk was probably about as long as it would take for an uber to leave the parking lot.

On your walk home, you basked in the glow of the concert, listening to the tunes on repeat and raving about the concert online. Between retweeting concert pics and spamming your friends, you hadn’t noticed that electric feeling recede as you left the concert, nor had you noticed when it came back. Only when you put your phone away to dig for your apartment keys did you feel it again in full force. You looked around you, hair standing on edge, looking for anyone, unsettled by the quiet streets. You rubbed your arms before letting yourself into your apartment building, taking the stairs straight to your apartment. As you closed and locked the door behind you, the feeling subsided, and you could breathe a small sigh of relief. Setting your keys down and setting the bizarre experience to the side, you began getting ready for bed and settling in. Before you knew it, you had drifted off, the memories of the day sending you to blissful sleep.

“We are SUCH creepers!” Jimin hissed as he skulked alongside Namjoon, the pair following the new stranger home.

“I know!” Namjoon hissed back. “I just need to make sure she’s the right one!”

Before Jimin opened his mouth to protest, Namjoon clapped his hand over the younger’s mouth and pulled him down behind a bit of shrubbery. They both watched as the girl looked seemingly directly at them both before visibly shivering and entering her building with some haste.

A few beats of silence passed before they both breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was close.” Jimin breathed. “We didn’t need to follow her home to know she’s the one Joon; we all felt it.”

“I know, Chim.” Namjoon sighed. “I just can’t believe it, honestly. I imagined ours being a number of species, but certainly not Elf. Jin-hyung has run into one in his life, and I know I haven’t run into any.”

“I can’t say I have ever seen one ever,” Jimin replied. “It was kind of cute how she hid her ears as if her energy wasn’t the brightest thing in that whole stadium.” He said with a giggle.

“The humans don’t know any better.” Namjoon chided.

“I know,” Jimin said, rolling his eyes. “Let's go; the others are anxiously waiting for our return.”

Wordless, the pair rose from their hiding spot, making their way down the street, disappearing into the right.

When Jimin and Namjoon returned to the hotel room that night, they were all but ran over with questions and curiosities. Pushing the five anxious bodies away from them, they advanced into the room, closing the door behind them.

“Well, we followed her all the way home, which might I say is quite a distance I-” Namjoon started before getting cut off.

“She’s the real deal.” Jimin finished as a silence settled over the group.

“She’s an elf, or she’s….” Jungkook spoke up, trailing off.

“Both,” Jimin confirmed.

“I can’t wait to meet her!” Taehyung said, excitedly standing from his seated position on the bed.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself.” Yoongi scolded, looking up at the younger. “First, she’s obviously a fan.”

“Why is that an issue?” Junkook said with a slightly offended tone.

“Simply put, consent is an issue,” Yoongi said flatly. “We must tread very lightly. She can be swept into agreeing to things she otherwise might not want to do because we are who we are.” Everyone nodded their heads in agreement and understanding as he continued, “Second, if all seven of us show up, we might overwhelm her or scare her off. It's very easy to get excited, but we need to remember the status we’ve built for ourselves and the effect it can have on people around us.”

“Very well put,” Namjoon spoke up. “It sounds a little dirty, but we need to game plan. She doesn’t need to accept us, but she deserves to know everything. Like Yoongi said; however, it’s not like we can just show up to her place and lay everything out and expect that to go fine.”

“What are you proposing?” Jin asked, raising an eyebrow and pulling Taehyung into his lap.

“Let’s hold a meet and greet!” Jimin said excitedly, the rest of the maknae line backing him up.

“Too many variable factors.” Namjoon said, “We can’t leave it up to the chance she’d apply, have the time, have the funds….” He trailed off.

“Looks like she’s a dancer, has her own studio and everything,” Hoseok spoke up, finally, looking up from his phone. “She does lessons and everything; we could always send someone to get lessons. No matter what, she’s going to be star-struck; however, being able to talk to her in a private space she’s comfortable in but can also exit easily, I think is going to be best.”

“That’s not the worst idea….” Taehyung said, trailing off, leaning into Jin’s chest. “Joon? Thoughts?”

“We would have to pick the person to go carefully, but I’m not against the idea.” Namjoon started, “I hope that there is no offense taken, but there are some of you who I wouldn’t trust to have enough tact and restraint to ensure this goes the way it needs to.”

Jungkook scoffed playfully, and Taehyung crossed his arms in a joking pout.

“If she’s a fan, I can bet she’ll be suspicious of the dance line immediately.” Jimin pointed out. “As much as I want to meet her myself, I can’t imagine she would believe that I’m looking for lessons from a local dance teacher.”

“Let’s send Jin-hyung,” Yoongi said, looking at the older member.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jin said, offended.

“You are the oldest, and by extension, the most knowledgeable, and you certainly have the highest degree of restraint. Besides, you know your power will be immeasurably helpful in a situation like this.” Yoongi said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“If there are no objections, I’ll make the appointment as soon as possible,” Hoseok said, typing in his phone once again.

When there were no sounds of objection, Hoseok dutifully made the appointment online for the following day. Tomorrow. One adult lesson. 6 pm.

“It’s done,” Hoseok said, locking his phone and standing up. “I’m off to bed. Don’t try anything with her tonight, Joon.” He said sternly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He said, knowing internally that he very much did. But now was far from the time to be interfering with her dreams.

“An elf shows up to our concert and turns out to be our One; what are the chances?” Jungkook remarks as everyone except for Taehyung and Jin file out of the room, finding their rest for the evening. Today had certainly been exciting, but tomorrow held even more potential.

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Hello! I know its been forever, thank you for reading. Welcome back if your a reader patiently waiting, and welcome if your a new reader! If you were a previous reader of intertwined, I got very much burnt out writing it because I wasn’t satisfied with how it was going, so I decided to do a rewrite! I have the old fic catalogued on my AO3 if you would like to come back to it, I just can’t update it anymore. Rest assured this new fic is going to go in the same direction as intertwined did plot-wise, and will have the same degree of sauce. I have a lot of chapters queued for (new) intertwined, and I am working on a few other other stories, not just BTS! So if your a multistan get excited!

#bts #bts fanfic #ot7xreader #ot7 x reader #intertwined #intertwined part 1 #ot7 x reader smut #ot7 x reader smut #poly ot7 #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #jhope x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #smut

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