Warning: hardcore impregnation kink, possession, dirty talk, vaginal sex, basically a major creampie bro.
A/N: I’m going through major baby fever, so please enjoy my imagination
You felt Jungkook’s hands press roughly into your hips as he pounded you from behind. The sound of your husband’s groans and whiny sounds filling the air as your face was pushed into the mattress.
“You like the way that feels baby?“ He asked as you gripped onto your marital sheets. You tried to nod, your words failing you but your back being bent unnaturally stopping you. “Oh god baby” He moaned as he felt your walls flutter around him. You squeezed around him again unconsciously causing him to buck harshly into you, the angle causing him to kiss the base of your cervix, a shiver running down your spine as you let out a wanton moan. The movement caused Jungkook to pause. You grew worried and tried looking back only to see the man you called yours with his eyes shut, head tilted as you watched him breathe through his nose heavily almost as if to keep himself sane. You called out to him with a weak call of his name catching his attention breaking him from the trance he was in, you watched his eyelids open slightly, his usual coffee coloured eyes now a lustful black eyeing your sweaty body.
“fuck” He let out as his eyes moved from you to where the both of you were joined, his cock twitching slightly at the filthy ideas running through his head. “Look forward again for me baby” He breathed out, his voice an octave deeper causing a submissive whine to catch at your throat before turning. His hands gripped your hips even rougher, this time his nails digging into your skin before pulling his hips back slowly and bucking back into you, knocking the air from your lungs. He repeated this before your body started fluttering around him again and all his thoughts began to slip from his mouth.
“Fuck baby wanna fill you up so badly, so f-fucking badly” He moaned as he pounded into you roughly. You moaned in response which only urged him on even more.
“Wanna cum so deep in you baby, wanna fill you with my seed pretty girl” He rambled as he threw his head back losing himself in you. “Jungkook please” You whined not knowing what you were even asking for.
“You want it too baby hmm? want me to fill you up and knock you up?” He pressed, his words sending a shock into your system at the thought of him getting you pregnant. It’s not like you both hadn’t talked about it, babies were a subject you just both silently agreed on that when it happens, it happens and apparently for Jungkook it needed to happen now. “God beautiful I’m gonna put a baby in you, would you like that hmm? like my cock hitting your womb baby” He asked, his voice straining at the end.
“Answer me baby, wanna hear you say it” He groaned as his hand sneaked between your thighs and started began rubbing harshly at your clit. You tried to figure out what was going on in your head but the mixture of Jungkook’s fingers pressed against your clit and his cock hitting your cervix was too much for you. You could feel your climax literally on the tip of your tongue but the thought was stopped the minute you felt a harsh slap on your clit sending your hips to jolt forward. “Baby-I told you-to answer me” He punctuated with harsh thrusts. You gasped, your eyes filling with tears as you tried lifting your head to give him what he wanted.
“J-jungkook please, fill me with your cum, want your b-baby in me, make me yours” You gasped out, his shit eating grin practically beaming even if you couldn’t see it.
“That’s right baby, you’re fucking mine” He growled, his fingers back on your clit his hips angling to press even deeper into you. “Can’t wait to show you off, all big and round with my baby” He whined, his orgasm catching up to him as yours hit you. Now you’ve never experienced a vaginal orgasm but with the way Jungkook’s cock hit the end of you, your body just went into overdrive. You felt like it was everywhere, causing your body to shake underneath Jungkook like a leaf in an aggressive wind. The feeling of your walls convulsing around him aggressively had Jungkook growling as hips forced his cock into you. “Gonna cum baby, g-gonna cum and fill you. take it, fucking take it- Fuck!” He let out as he pressed into you till you could practically feel him in your stomach, The heat of his orgasm filling you to breaking point. You let out small whines as Jungkook moved his hips slowly milking his orgasm “so deep, so fucking deep” He whispered as he watched his softening cock fuck his cum back into you.
“You good baby?” He asked breathless as he fell down next to you. You slumped your body down, wincing at the aftershock. “Ask me again in nine months” You breathed still catching your breath, your eyes closing but not missing the way he beamed at your words.
Extra
“Kook, what did you do to Y/N, she looks so pale lately” Hoseok asked as he plopped down next to the younger, the boys weekly catch up at your home.
“Yeah, I offered her the left over eggs from my plate and she literally gagged and ran off” Jin pitched in as snatched the remote away from Taehyung before scolding him.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Horror
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 8: The Hen House part 1
A/N. Y'all. Have you seen airport Yoongi 2022? Also, wrote this while on the road so forgive me if it’s sloppy.
FLASHBACK
Smoke filled your lungs, an endless circle of tobacco and the smell of fried eggs and grilling meat as you tried to push your sweaty hair to the side, the sun beating down on your bare fore arms, the prickling heat shoved at the forefront of your mind incessantly.
You just know you were going to get a tan in weird places with the way your shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up to your shoulders and the frayed edge tied to a side knot just above your hip bone.
If anything you looked like a poster girl for Rosie the Riveter minus the iconic red polka-dotted headband.
You had foregone wearing shorts, opting for jeans instead as you weren’t really all that comfortable showing a good amount of skin below your stomach and so it was sweltering hot as you attempted with a mild grunt to carry the multitude of colored boxes for a new resident of the Hen House - you think you’ve read one labelled Toysand you weren’t born yesterday to decipher what thathad meant.
With a blush, you enter the comfortable air conditioned lobby of the home, the receptionist smiling behind the desk before going back to jot down something on her clipboard, and you trudge up the winding staircases down to the east wing.
The Hen House, built upon an old abandoned convent back in the day boasted a sprawling ten-acre enclave lined with all kinds of trees and greenery, a massive lake just behind the structure where you mostly loved to spend your time lounging by the docks whenever you didn’t have anything to do, feeding whatever woodland creature graced you with it’s presence so you tended to pocket an assortment of nuts and bits and pieces of bread whenever you visit.
It was actually one of the adopted social services program for Kyung Hee, the university you were attending, extending help to women (and men) who previously worked in the under hood of Korea’s red light districts and were trying to turn over a new page in their battered, worn out books.
Initially you were hesitant, what with your swamped schedule but your professor had convinced you otherwise in exchange for raising your GPA so you had agreed without thinking too much of the consequences.
Passing through the hallways all while giving a wave or two to the relatively cheerful residents doing their own thing, you come to a stop in front of a wooden door.
Lightly nudging it open, you toddle through and gently place the boxes in a corner of the room out of harm’s way.
“Thanks, sweet cheeks.”
Startled, you almost smack the tall intruder in his handsome face. “Oh fuck, sorry!” You bow as he barely dodges from your hands before he chuckles, bringing your flailing to a stop.
Your eyes land on the love handles peeking through his white cropped shirt.
Like a fish out of water, you blatantly ogle the dude, only to curse under your breath- first house rule, never ever check out the residents (at least openly) for several reasons, one of them being a violation of their dignity and privacy after everything they went through to get to this point.
But you couldn’t help it! He easily towered over you and he was huge, like he ate protein shakes for breakfast every morning.
Clearing your throat, you hold out a hand in greeting. “I’m LN YN.”
The attractive stranger nods taking your hand in his for a brief shake. “Kim Matthew, but you may call me BM.”
You give him a genuine, welcoming smile. “Well then, BM, I hope you like your new home. The people here can be a handful, and crazy, and sometimes pushes all your buttons and smoke like they’re sixty-five but they’re all caring on the inside.” You state plainly only to flush when you realize you were babbling.
You give a hasty bow, “Also, I’ll be in your care from now on.”
He grins, white canines glinting, the tear drop earrings he sported shimmers in the mid afternoon light streaming through the curtains as he pats your head consolingly almost amused at your little display and you look up at him shyly. “Likewise, YN.”
You have a strong feeling you and him would get along just fine.
.
BM, as it turns out, became your bosom buddy even if you hadn’t known him for long.
He was very well likeable and was basically good at everything, from cooking to building that cat dream house one of the matrons had always wanted, and writing poems that could rival Namjoon’s, you were starting to think all beautiful people were blessed by the gods themselves.
And BM was really good at writing. Like insanely good.
So it isn’t a wonder when one day, as you were raking leaves in the garden, he comes running out thrusting sheafs of paper against your face, getting you cross eyed as you tentatively take them from his excited grasp.
“I got in, YN!” He screams with giddiness and you stare confused only for your creased brows to unfurl, a giant smile lighting up your haggard demeanor.
BM had been accepted to Kyung Hee as a Literature Major under a scholarship.
The best part was, he would be sponsored to go to an Ivy League school of his choice as long as he kept his grades up.
“Woah, this is awesome!” You tell him, proud at his accomplishments as he basically lifts you up and twirls you around like you weighed nothing.
Having been a former stripper for a BDSM club, your friend didn’t have many options in his career, most regarding him with an underlying sort of disgust, a used commodity but it seems the Literature department of your university thought he had great potential ahead of him if they were willing to go so far as to let him finish a Master’s Degree abroad.
Once back in your feet, your beefy friend hesitates. “But… I’ll be moving into the dorms before the semester starts.”
You snort and smack him lightly on the chest, the only part reachable for your five foot, two inches. “Don’t worry about me, dummy. I go to the same university too. Dorm visitations are allowed on weekends. And it’s not like you can’t just text me to meet up or something. ”
He chuckles, but then his sharp eyes stray to somewhere behind you as he subconsciously grips your fingers in his. “Yeah, that’s not what I’m worried about.” He whispers seriously and you shoot a look at the middle aged man tottering a few steps away towards the sidewalk, as if he had just been caught peering through the fence.
You freeze. Who was that? This was the third time in a row you’ve caught him staring at you.
Somehow, and you don’t know why but that behavior reminded you of the Bogeyman when you were younger.
You shuddered.
BM does not let you get home alone that night as he steadfastly refuses to let you drive alone. “I’ll just take a cab on the way back.” He says, tone final and you don’t argue.
Knowing your friend for over a year now, his instincts for bad things were usually a little too spot on, (like that time you showed him a photo of an apartment you were looking into leasing which thankfully you didn’t as turns out it was a trap house) having been honed by dealing with seedy and unsavory clients for almost half of his street rat years.
Maybe you should report that incident to the police just in case.
You give him a farewell kiss on the cheek and watch him walk the driveway, past the security who open the gates for him, and back into the shadows, only for you to stop in your tracks as you feel someone watching your backside (surely it wasn’t the gatekeeper) and not wasting any time, you run into the house almost colliding into one of the boys dogs.
“Woof!”
You heave a sigh of relief as the brown poodle clings to your leg, tail wagging. “Holly, you scared me! ” You coo only for her owner to come stumbling out into the foyer sleepily.
“Oh, you’re back.” He then frowns checking the clock on the wall and is fairly surprised that it’s around two in the morning. He pauses awkwardly by the foot of the stairs. “…Had a hot date?” Yoongi drawls albeit uncomfortably, though you can’t tell with the way his lips break out into his usual smirk.
You don’t know why that gets to you, it’s just a question, but it does anyway and with how tired you were the entire goddamn day and the lingering fear still rooted in your bones, a bit of light leaves your irises. “Eh.” You shrug neither denying or confirming and brush past him, leaving Holly yapping in the background and her owner stumped because it was the first time you acted like you he was a roommate and nothing more.
Not a member of your makeshift family.
Not the man who hung the moon and the stars.
Not the man who broke your heart countless of times as he and his brothers came home looking thoroughly fucked and sated.
Nothing.
Frantic footsteps follow you, “…are you hungry?”
You stop and he stops, his dog in tow, sitting her butt on the marbled floor. “I’m sleepy. Good night, Yoongi. ” Your tone borders on a heavy sort of finality and you trudge up to your room without another word, not caring a shit what he thought about you at the moment.
Maybe tomorrow would be better.
.
The next morning finds you buried bone deep in volunteer work.
It was Sunday, and with no boyfriend or social life outside of your boys you had offered to clean the old lake shed at the Hen House.
It was a dusty old shack if anything, filled with miscellaneous stuff old residents had left and some rusty machinery which could fetch a notable price at some obscure junkyard by the roadside.
If only you weren’t alone (not discounting the receptionist and the cook who were always on duty) but the other staff had the day off and since most of the residents were capable of running the place anyway, they were left to their own devices.
You cough up a storm as the pile of books on the shelf topples, leaving you wheezing in a particle cloud of dust bunnies.
The shed may be grimy but it was pretty workable as it was small, big enough to fit at most four of you.
You huff, putting on a mask and hyping your spirits to do some shit cleaning because you were not going to leave this place without scrubbing every single inch, every nook and cranny until you were satisfied.
“Let’s do this, YN.”
It takes you approximately until seven into the evening to finish everything and you collapse in the now waxed and polished floor, muscles aching and moaning.
All things that could still be of use were boxed and taped up to be sent to the lost and found department just in case some of the residents wanted to ‘dumpster dive’.
The stuff that were practically trash was going to be shipped off to the junkyard tomorrow. Recycle and all that shit.
With a tired whine, you allow yourself to partially doze off to slumber, only minutes later, something cold taps your ankle until long fingers are grasping them and you jump up, shrieking in shock.
The old man you had seen with BM last night was here. Inside the shed. With you.
Shit!
Before you can even run out to call for help, a force yanks you back and you land on the hardwood with a thump.
You refuse to look anywhere but at him, thinking this was the way you were going to die and you’d rather not hold the face of your murderer in the afterlife lest you never find peace, only for him to practically bend abnormally close down to your level.
You gasp when you are left staring at milky white orbs and yellowed rotten teeth, “Save me.” The old man gasps and you scream.
END OF FLASHBACK
YOONGI POV
He hates you.
Well, he actually doesn’t.
He was annoyed, irritated, with the fact that you were hugging a man twice the size of the Sigma leader.
And he was a fucking dwarf compared to the guy’s bulging pectorals.
“YN?!”
He growls lowly, though the only people who heard were his brothers as you climb the big buffoon like he wanted you to climb his dick.
Something gnaws at his chest, straining, making his insides blaze with unbridled fury and bitterness as he witnesses how happy you looked, something he –they have never seen on you before.
And it hurts.
It fucking hurts.
“Guys, this is BM! He’s a good friend of mine!” You wave them over, glowing and positively beautiful that the twinge grows deeper, like a knife stabbed him in his lungs.
A friend? He’s never heard of this BM. Not until now. Dread fills his already fucked up emotional spectrum solely thanks to you.
Just how much of your life outside of them did they miss?
He glances at the others who mirror the same kind of trepidation as they all survey the gothic structure, the concrete seemingly intimidating even as they were used to grandeur.
There was something eerie about this place and if you had been working here for a long time right under their noses, he doesn’t even want to imagine what kind of horrors you faced.
And as you pull them all in to meet curious faces, he swallows, hiding his disdain as he realizes just how far away you were from them.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch
A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan’s entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.
People say happiness is a choice.
But what if…just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can’t seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?
Or maybe it’s just your anxiety killing you.
You’ve had panic attacks before, and you hated it–it’s like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.
But anxiety…anxiety is on a whole other level.
It never leaves.
You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren’t so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don’t delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?
“Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn’t happy with herself so much she can’t stand to look at the mirror some days?”
Highly unlikely.
Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about ‘when I was your age, I didn’t have that kind of shit to deal with’.
And yet you were tired.
Existing was just tiring sometimes.
“You’re thinking too much, mouse. ”
You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.
Or former bedroom?
Well you weren’t dead. Not yet anyway.
It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.
The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan’s residence.
Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).
It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.
That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.
She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.
You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.
According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up –it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.
Grim reaper’s eyes he had said.
And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.
It was a pretty morbid way to go.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about, mouse. ” Byul hovers to the side.
Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.
You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene doesn’t talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.
“Just…how we’re going to go about things tomorrow. ” You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.
The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn’t everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys’ in terms of being a god send.
She pokes your nose, another habit you’ve noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).
“Don’t worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them.”
Theat least for now isunspoken and that’s what makes you shudder.
“Oh, you’re fading, mouse. ” She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.
True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.
Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.
Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.
It was the limit of Eugene’s strange abilities–he can’t make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one’s soul.
Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.
At least for a good while.
All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.
Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.
When he wasn’t loving girls and leaving them that is.
“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul’s energy.
“Sleep, mouse.” She says, and your lids flutter shut.
You awake to arguing.
“Stop, don’t open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!”
Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.
“Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you’re tired, yeah?”
Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.
Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.
Oh.
“Guys? What are you doing here? Don’t you have to be at the company?” You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.
Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father’s huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.
It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.
From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can’t help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.
“That smells like shit,” you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.
But…could you even eat at this point?
Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can’t even if you want to.
Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.
Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, “Mouse, don’t eat anything. ”
You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.
“But…it smells fine?” He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene’s dead sister for explanation.
She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. “To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. ”
Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, “What does it smell like to you, Byul?”
She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. “Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. ”
You frown. “Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?”
She smiles at you mysteriously. “My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. ”
Does that mean–oh. Oh!
You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn’t be alone.
You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.
But now you are starting to think otherwise.
So Byul still haunted the place, huh.
It would’ve creeped you out, but seeing as you’re on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn’t get back, it was like you weren’t even afraid at all.
Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn’t work out with the boys.
You think you saw a twitch on the seven men’s faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.
She leans forward from her position against the wood, “I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that’s alright with you, YN?”
Byul switches topics fast and you can’t help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.
The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.
The shelter?
“What do you mean the shelter?” Hoseok frowns.
You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.
You gulp.
Here’s the thing.
Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.
“The, um…it’s,” you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. “It’s a facility for homeless people. ”
They sigh in relief. “Oh. That does not seem so bad?” Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can’t help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn’t enough.
The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, “Do you…work there?”
Of course they wouldn’t know.
They didn’t know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.
The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.
You shrug. “It’s a voluntary kind of thing. ”
You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).
“You didn’t tell them?”
They swivel to her and you wince.
“YN?” Jin’s no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.
Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.
“It’s a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out.”
You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.
If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.
This was troublesome.
FLASHBACK
“What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can’t she learn it herself?” Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.
“…okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn’t that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?” He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.
Byul could only smirk. “If you’re worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don’t seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. ”
Eugene pauses. “So basically you’re telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that’s somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?”
“Yes. ”
“…Fine. You all heard that?” He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.
At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.
Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.
“If only you hadn’t been fucking around, this would be a lot easier.” Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn’t have agreed more.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Angst, Sickness, Cussing, Implied drug use , Implied manwhoring around
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 5: The Neighbor (and friends) Across the Hall
A/N. Hello there. Am I dropping chapters too quick? Anyway, I let this chapter basically write itself and it ended up surprisingly good. But I may not be updating again for this week as I wrote this chapter with a head ache and I may be out of commission for awhile. We’ll see. Hope you enjoy! Comment for taglist. :)
ALSO. A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL WHO HAVE READ AND ARE READING THIS SERIES. 감사합니다!
FLASHBACK
Like claws raking horribly against a chalkboard, you hold back a grimace, lips down turned from the overcast shadows looming before you, a sign of doom or at most the barbie league club from the drama department who could only afford the cheapest drink they could get at their local Starbucks.
Icy blue irises roam over the standard uniform you and every employee in this branch were forced to don –fitted green shirt and baggy corduroy pants– and as if the devil himself reincarnates, she tips the cup of her Teavana with a flick of the wrist, the contents spilling all over the place and your ears burn as she gives you a lame ‘oops, how clumsy of me’.
The other patrons are glaring at the girls to leave like the bunch of idiotic menaces they were and when they finally do (but not without giving you the finger), your shoulders sag, a heavy sigh escaping your lips just as your manager inches his way towards you, shaking her head as she helps by handing you the mop.
“This is coming out of your paycheck unfortunately,” she mutters under her breath before going back to her station.
Your eyes sting with unshed tears (you were already feeling a bit rundown due to the non stop rain and you had several papers due tonight) and now this.
Can’t you just catch a break?
Some of the more long term patrons offer you consoling glances as you pass them by to go clean up and you shoot them a tired but grateful smile nonetheless.
Once you’re done with things, you go back to the counter to tend to the next batch of customers, hoping they weren’t as mean to you as those blonde bimbos had been.
-
They say time flies by quickly when you’re happy doing what you love but to say you loved working was an overstatement.
It’s not like you were poor. You came from a good and loving family (despite your parents being gone all the time) with money, and one word to them would leave you with a few thick bills in your disposal.
But you didn’t want to remain dependent, stemming from a mindset that you were an only child and you would eventually (and sadly) have to learn to navigate your entire rest of your life once your parents are gone.
Hence you wanted as much practice as you could get.
However, with merely an undergraduate, not many high paying jobs will take on a college student buried in loans, so you took to the streamline and applied at the nearest Starbucks.
You loved the smell of coffee anyway and though you weren’t a barista, you were quite efficient at pushing buttons so you’ve been told.
In the least, you liked your job but not enough to be willing to stay after hours, so when Kai comes in for the next shift, you happily hand your apron over to him. “Here, good luck!” You singsong and get the fuck out of there, not giving your friend a chance to respond mainly because he looked even grumpier than you had been going in to work.
It was still raining even if it was already half past ten in the evening (yes, your boss operated twenty four seven), and you hazard a glance at your phone to see whether any of your best friends had even bothered to check in.
Well no, apparently not. Though your other boss, Eugene, (yes, you had two jobs because student loans are fucking killer) did tell you not to come in tomorrow as the energy in the shop was not going to be pleasant and you send him a response, already knowing that he’s chastising you in his own weird way to get the day off because he knew you got sick easily when it got cold.
With a shiver, you run to your car, umbrella in hand and turn on the heat at full blast once inside.
Anyone who asks you how you could afford an expensive ride with a cashier’s daily wage, you just shrug and let them assume you were a sugar baby. It was more fun that way.
You sneeze before you could even step on the pedal, and you grow nervous, hand feeling your forehead. Well at least you weren’t running a fever. But you did feel a bit dizzy…
Ignoring the slight discomfort, you blend through the highway traffic, hoping you don’t faint.
-
You don’t faint. In fact you nearly faint and hastily park your vehicle to an emergency stop clearing where fewer cars drove through.
Harsh water pelts the roof of the Bentley and you wish you brought your noise cancelling earphones to at least drown out the low, metallic rumble from the now full on thunderstorm.
Afraid of getting hit with one of those stray lightnings, you had kept away from any trees and instead held yourself front and center in an open field where a murderer in a mask would most likely drag you to Christ knows where.
Not feeling up to continuing risking your health, you ask one of the guys to come get you but you are merely left on read.
Fuck.
It was an hour to midnight and you don’t think it was safe for women to be out by themselves in the middle of nowhere. Groaning, you gently lay your head on the cool window, when your phone rings.
Renewed hope wells within you only to be shot down with a flaming arrow when Taemin’s voice bounces from the other line. “Heya, neighbor!” He chirps a little too enthusiastically for your liking.
Your head was already pounding and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.
You hum lightly, tracing invisible circles in the air and he instantly notices. “YNie? Are you okay? You don’t sound so hot. ”
“Well, I am cold…” You murmur, closing your lids for a brief moment for respite from the drudgery of it all.
You can hear a few people in the background and Taemin shuts them up, baritone serious as if just then remembering that you were a sickly goose. “Oh shit, are you somewhere dry and warm? Baby, where are you?”
“Is that Kai? Did he manage to skip work and go to that stupid Beta Tau Sigma party after all?”
“No, now I said shut your mouths, didn’t I?” Your sweet neighbor calls out with a lowly growl, something you haven’t heard for a long time, and all laughter ceases.
Woah. That’s hot.
And wait, you didn’t hear about any type of parties happening with Bangtan tonight? If you would they would have told you and you would have been a good girl and not gotten in their way (that is lock yourself in your room but leave through the fire escape and sleep over at your own apartment, possibly hang out with Taeminie and binge watch a few Netflix episodes of Kotaro lives alone).
Beta Tau Sigma threw subtle parties where alcohol was plenty and sometimes women and drugs were involved. You had to learn weed butter recipe for the guys at some point just so Jin wouldn’t strangle the maknaes for basically slaughtering every carton of milk they could find in the kitchen to curb their failed attempts at churning a presentable lump of pimped dairy.
You loved your best friends to death (and are in love with them sadly) but the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity tended to go all out at house gatherings and you’d rather not accidentally intrude in case one of them decides fucking someone in your home was fine.
Especially if it were one of your boys. Well not your boys. Anyway.
Gathering what little strength you have left as the drowsiness was taking over, you clumsily send your coordinates to your friend on the other end of the line.
A bellow reaches your ears and you shy away from the angry voice. “You are fucking where?! Stay there, YN. Like hell you’re going back home in that condition. ”
Huh? Did you tell him you were sick or something?
“Okay,” you mumble, unaware that you were succumbing to sleep.
-
“Shit, she’s burning up!”
“Hurry, pass me that cold pack!”
“Anyone started on the hot broth yet?”
“Yeah, over here. ”
“When the fuck is Kai coming back with the cold medicine?”
Blearily, your eyes open a millimeter, only to close once more as they feel heavy under the bright lights.
Who were these people again?
“Taemin-hyung, here.”
A brief mumble of thanks and then a wet cloth is pressed to your forehead. Instantly, you feel so much better already from the feel of the coolness.
“Ravi, can you…”
“Yeah, here.”
Someone helps you up gently, arms roped around your shoulders as you are put in a sitting position. Something hard slides between your lips followed by water and you subconsciously gulp whatever it was down.
You cough a bit only for hands to scrabble at your back in up down motions and then you’re lying on the softest bed you have ever felt.
“Taemin, I can take it from here. You go help Sungwoon with the chicken soup. ”
In the distance, rushed footsteps are heard as a door opens and closes with a click. The footsteps get nearer and a voice you recognize as your friend Kai’s comes barrelling through with a whisper. “Where is she? Oh shit, YN. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice earlier!”
A hand touches your burning cheek and you nuzzle into it.
“Did you tell them?”
“What?”
“ Bangtan. ”
“Fuck no. I mean I ran into Jimin awhile back, they were picking up some food as I was leaving and when I asked if YN got home okay, they weren’t even aware she had left already. ”
A sigh and then you are shifted to the left as a weight on your right settles, hands coming to stroke your hair.
“No shit? If I ever come across Bangtan, I am pummeling their pretty boy faces. How could they leave her like this? All for a fucking house party? I’m so glad I refused Park Jimin’s invitation to join all those years ago. ”
The hand in your hair pauses. “…It’s uh, I think they have weed in there so they might be high for a bit. That may explain why they’re pretty much out of it. ”
“Honest to God if they ditched her for a fuck, I will murder them. ”
Murmurs of agreement float through the room and your brain shuts down, not even thinking about the entire conversation you’ve overheard.
Not until the next morning where you are left alone with your thoughts (your friends had their own lives and own work so you couldn’t fault them for leaving you unattended–at least they made a mean breakfast and set up your bath and even gave you a change of spare clothes and some medicine to go with it) and decide to run to Yin Yang Quatro, teary eyed and heart broken because not one of Bangtan had even left a text.
Guess your friendship with the seven men wasn’t that important after all.
END OF FLASHBACK.
Now Taemin wasn’t a vindictive person.
He wasn’t also one to be easily angered.
In fact, he was the most patient out of all of his friends.
And yet when it came to YN, his neighbor, his friend, he would do anything for her.
In fact they (Sungwoon, Ravi, and Kai) would be willing to walk through fire for her.
It was a pact they took once they decided to help the unconscious girl behind their apartment’s trashcan whom they would later come to know as YN, the most beautiful human being on earth, inside and out.
So when rumors of her getting smashed and cut with the art club’s glass prop started circulating, he had to find out.
And now the four of them were standing before her hospital bed, emotions simmering wildly under the promise of hurting whoever did this to her.
Kai especially was quiet and the guy hardly had nothing to say. Not with his affiliation to Beta Tau Sigma as some sort of honorary member.
“Did they come visit her yet?” Sungwoon asks through gritted teeth as he stares off into space, refusing to acknowledge the reality in front of him so soon.
Ravi frowns as he surveys the damage on YN. Bandaged head, patched up cheeks, and bandages all over her arms and hands. Shit. How was she going to continue working if she woke up? “Yeah. The doctors said they did. ”
Taemin, for all the anger bubbling up inside of him was quick to stamp it out like a lighted cigarette. Cancer sticks they say. “Good. One less fly off the wall. ”
“Or seven. ”
Eyes flash deadly. If there was one thing they were going to do, they were going to search for YN’s soul and bring her back.
They knew YN. They knew everything about her. And they accepted it all. Even if she were to be haunted by some old woman’s ghost or whatever.
Even if they had to make a deal with the devil himself.
They loved her that much.
They were going to have to make a quick trip to Yin Yang Quatro.
Eugene Lee Yang might be the answer to their problems.
You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.
Chapter warnings
Implied Sex, Implied unrequited feelings, Minor cussing, Implied accident
Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)
Chapter 3: The Boys from the Tree House
FLASHBACKS
The Always HARD-y Boys
Namjoon
Hyungs, did you see where YN ran off to?
Yoongi
Not really, no. Why?
Jin
Of course you wouldn’t. You’re busy tapping some girl again, aren’t you?
Yoongi
Try walking in on YN naked before you judge me. My dick isn’t going to beat its own meat ya know
Namjoon
Okay, first off. Ew, hyung. Second, we’ve got an exam coming up unlike some people.
Jin
Yah, weren’t you just shoving your own dick down someone else’s throat a few weeks ago, Joon-ah?
Namjoon
This and that are two completely opposite matters. Also, ever seen YN touching herself in the tub before?
Yoongi
WHAT
Jin
Did you at least take a fucking picture?
Namjoon
Yah, hyung. Inside my brain.
Yoongi
Jin
Yah.
Hobi
Ayyy, what did I miss?
Noona’s McD’s McNaes
McTaeTae
Noonaaaaa
YNoona
What kid
Chim’s Burger
What she said
Gukie Spaghetti
Yeah
McTaeTae
I feel attacked.
Anyway, since you’re all here, I need you to come meet me at the rec hall chop chop!
YNoona
Uh-oh, I smell photographer Vante
Chim’s Burger
You’re not going to make us do another weird cosplay shit again, are you?
Gukie Spaghetti
I’m out losers
McTaeTae
Why are you people so mean to me?
And no. We’re doing normal stuff today.
I need it to boost my final GPA.
YNoona
…If you say so, then I guess I could come over right now.
Chim’s Burger
…Fine.
Gukie Spaghetti
I swear to God if you’re lying, hyung
Beta Tau Sigma
Taehyung
Image sent
YNie’s breasts in this corset are just fantastic, aren’t they? Feel so blessed
Read by Namjoon and 5 others
Neighbors from across the hall
Taeminie
Hey, YN! Uh, I have some friends over and they don’t fit in my apartment.
Just…is it possible for some of them to stay in yours?
I promise they’re really neat and organized and are not robbers so…
YNie
Oh yah! Sure no probz. Key is still under the rug.
Taeminie
Oh yay! Thanks a bunch. I’ll just wire you back for whatever they use and stuff.
Also have the bill receipts out for you by mail.
Image sent
I mean they’ve piled up pretty much.
YNie
Woah, shit I completely forgot lmao
You know, with finals and all.
Anywho…
No! Don’t do that! My uh, family tends to go through my mail before I even get them and they have no idea I even own an apartment let alone somewhere not so nice… no offense to us.
I mean that’s all I can afford so…
Yeah.
I’ll just come over to pick them up tomorrow so can you keep them for now?
Taeminie
Oh! Oh, right! Right of course.
And not offended.
Our place is a fucking pig sty.
Not to worry, I’ll definitely keep our dirty little secret a secret
YNie
Thanks, Taeminie! You’re the bestest neighbor a girl could hope for.
I’ll def bring you some of your favorite cereals as thanks for putting up with my drunken ass last week.
Taeminie
Yeah about that. Whoever those men are, they don’t deserve your love, babe.
Haven’t met them yet but I know they’re grade A assholes even if they’re your best friends.
I mean who the fuck ditches movie night with a beautiful girl like you for a horny one night stand?
Definitely won’t be me.
YNie
Aw thanks, Tae. That’s so sweet.
At least they’re not having sex inside the house.
That shit will hurt me even more.
Taeminie
…Are you maybe free tonight? Come down here earlier. Maybe we need to have another talk, love.
Self worth and all that jazz.
Because clearly you need to be reminded that you are a wonderful, gorgeous, human being.
YNie
Yes, please
Beta Tau Sigma
Yoongi
Hey, did YN come home yet?
Hoseok
Same question
Jin
Why? Finally ditched your women for her have you?
Namjoon
Strange. I had my last class after hers so she should be here before me.
Jeongguk
Her car isn’t in the garage?
Jimin
Wdym?!
Taehyung
Hey funny story. I think I just saw another Bentley right by Highway 54 ten minutes ago. Looked like YN’s car?
And here I thought we gave her the and I quote “only one of its kind” edition?
Yoongi
What.
And yes, hyungie. It’s movie night tonight, why wouldn’t we not stop thinking with our god damn cocks for once?
Say that again Taehyung-ah?
Namjoon
Did you at least get the license plate?
Taehyung
Yeah, it’s YN-0613…13…Hey wait
Hoseok
Isn’t that YN’s license plate????
Read by Jimin and 5 others
…where’d all of you go–guys?!!!
Yoongi curses as he scours the University’s CCTV (he had befriended the guards with the amount of hours he spends inside the music studio and now he was privy to every recorded footage, yes even that one drunken mistake where Namjoon railed a chick in the library after hours), sharp eyesight staring at every car passing through the blurry screen.
His hair is so disheveled, lips bitten so roughly one would think he spent his time eating pussy when all he could think of was fucking finding you.
It was goddamned three in the fucking morning and you have yet to respond to all of their texts and miscalls.
Were you even alive godammit?!
You’re usually not one to leave them hanging for anything so this behavior was a little bit worrying.
So help him if you were fornicating with some guy who wasn’t pre-approved by him and the others—
He grits his teeth, blood boiling just at the thought of you fucking someone else for reasons he didn’t want to dwell on.
Yet.
The rest of his brothers are nervously watching every little movement trying to just seeif they could spot anything that would give an indication as to where you went exactly.
Only to be sorely disappointed when they spend a fruitless search leading them back home to wait for you.
But you don’t show up until the very next day, grumpy and seated on a lonely bench inside the cafeteria while women instantly flock towards them before they could even get to you at that point.
And then you up and leave just as the youngest three manage to break the crowd that had formed and run after you…
Only, it was too late as they don’t find you anywhere.
Next thing they know, your accident spreads around the school like wildfire, damaging the only peace that Bangtan Sonyeondan has protected at all costs.
Synopsis: You’ve just been laid off, and all you want to do is eat some dinner, curl into bed, and forget. Unfortunately, the neighborhood block party is tonight, and the festivities turn downright chaotic when the entire city loses power. Don’t fret, though. Jungkook will help take your mind off things for a while.
Genres | Content Warnings | Themes: Strangers to lovers, FLUFF with a capital FLUFF, Yugyeom makes an appearance, humor, comfort, smut (starts out with sweet, vanilla sex and masturbation, turns into biting, hickeys, fingering, oral sex [female receiving, male receiving], edging, protected vaginal sex, playful spanking, overstimulation, spitting), drinking / drinking games, drug use (weed edibles).
Preview:
Eyes wet with steaming, streaming tears, you let the bodies push you back.
Back to the elevator.
Back down to the lobby.
And back to the curb outside.
Wherehe looks up and finds your twisted, nauseated expression.
“Hey,” he says softly.
You didn’t see him when you stepped back onto the sidewalk. Even now, you only see him in parts.
Bent fingers clutch his hoodie’s drawstring, pulling left, then right. The denim of the jacket over it shifts slightly as he does. Full lips rest against each other lightly, an interrupted, absent-minded whistle reforming into more words.
