Two Twenty Six Verdance Teaser

SoftYandereDesigner!Seokjin x Model!Reader

Or Kim Seokjin is a world class

celebrity designer by day, and a wannabe Hannibal Lecter incarnate by night. All. For. You.

Part of the Black Tie Affair Series

Publishing Date: ???

ACEDIA, The Eighth Sin: Red Bleeds Into White (Yandere BTS)

Sexplicit Playlist

• Ot7 BTS x Reader, Yandere! BTS x Acedia! Reader
• Yandere AU, Idolverse AU
• M/F, No M/M
• Rated M
• Previous chapter

——————————————————————————Summary: You don’t particularly care for anything, only indulging in pleasures of the flesh, until one day you meet them.

Chapter Summary: Soft Wrath.

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Chapter Warnings:

PornWithPlot, Yandere BTS, Incest, Reader is a bit of a slut be warned, cuckolding, implied death, explicit playlist

Disclaimer: Standards apply. Image creation uploaded by MochiLips on Pinterest. Image hair color edit and text edit mine.

A/N: For reference to what Y/N’s brother looks like: (credits to syrianpsycho’s TikTok)

——————————————————————————

Red petals scatter to the ground, some floating in mid air before eventually joining the cool grass at your bare feet. Your mother’s rose garden utterly destroyed in the wake of what one would call a childish tantrum.

Although you weren’t a child anymore by any means.

As soon as you set foot in the harsh confines of your so-called home back from boarding school, and had learned of your mother’s untimely…departure from the cold, cold lips of a man you don’t even deign to call your father anymore, something in you just vanished.

Blood trickles down the dainty skin of your fingers as you blink lazily at the thorns now adorning your hand.

The sounds of rustling reach your ears and you whip around to the handsome face of your stepbrother—enthralling eyes staring at you, wary and distraught, as if he were debating with himself whether to engulf you in a hug or restrain himself. His eyes stray to your wounds and he grimaces.

You smile up at him, fluttering lashes, as if nothing hurts because you’ve stopped feeling a long time ago back when fairytales were still true and kings and queens were part of a naivete imagination. “Hello, brother. I’m home.”

Lips crash against yours in a flurry of passion and sin, your cheeks wet from tears that weren’t your own.

Because someone has to grieve for the both of you.

You spend the entire dawn encased in a tangle of limbs and intoxicating sweat in your brother’s bed, shallow breaths and pleasure filled haze, sullying your family in the name of lust and an all encompassing sadness.

That was the start of your descent to hell.

—

NAMJOON

He was always a hot-headed bastard and he knew it.

It was one of the reasons why on camera, it translated into pure clumsiness lest he obliterate something in his path which won’t do for them.

After all, they had endured centuries, ensconced in different skins, different lives, different names just to find her. You.

What better way to do so than be hidden in plain sight.

And now that they have you, anyone who dares to take you from his pack will be shown no mercy.

A cordial smile is automatically plastered on his face as you plop down onto his lap, discarding the book he had been reading. After all, he may love books but he, the demon of wrath was so in love with you bordering on pure, adulterated, obsession that he can’t help but lick his lips just smelling your faint perfume.

He raises a strict brow at your butler, the latter bowing out of the room in the blink of an eye but you don’t seem to care so the anger bubbling from inside of his soulless cavern is quelled, giving way to adoration.

Though he and the other demons despised your butler (and your brother—because you were very honest with them of your proclivities) having had first taste of you before any of them could much less touch you with your permission, you had expressed your displeasure at them upon seeing Yoongi nearly hitting Nox for some reason, so they deigned the latter a mere fly on the wall and someone that wasn’t a hindrance.

You were drawn to them and they you, after all.

He kisses you softly as you preen under his attention. “To what do I owe my pretty baby’s visit?”

He could scent the blood on your skin and on days like these, they usually found you curled up in one of their beds asleep, hence it was a happy surprise to have you out and about the mansion.

The others had gone to the company for their individual schedules and it was only him left at home to watch over you.

You tilt your head seeming to think for a moment. “I want to get pregnant.”

His jaw twitches, pushing forth as he stares at you wide-eyed in wonder. “Y-you…what?”

Not one to feel anything other than your attraction to the seven men, you repeat the statement as if you were merely talking about the weather. “I want a baby, Joonie. Fuck me right now.”

Namjoon, for all his being acclaimed the level headed leader of Bangtan, gulps in nervous anticipation, sweat forming in the palms of his hands as he grips your hips to steady you and stop his fast growing erection. “Are you certain about this, pretty baby?”

Damn him and his patience. If he were a lesser being—like one of those fallen angels – you’d be writhing under him without mercy.

You blink. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m horny. And I want a child with you—”

Namjoon chuckles in disbelief, “You—” But then he’s carrying you up the stairs and as your back hits the bed, he commands you to undress which you obey.

You get a whiff of the white Arabian Jasmine you loved so much and you turn your head to the side to see a whole vase full of them.

The blue-haired man trails after your gaze and he smirks. “You like them? I had them ordered just for you. They’re all over the house.”

An ‘o’ forms on your lips. So that’s why you felt better. There’s something about the scent of those flowers you liked so much.

When the seven of them had learned you disliked roses, they had every single rose removed by the maids, replacing it with your flower of choice.

And one of them was the pretty white flower now adorning Namjoon’s luxurious night stand.

Perhaps because it reminded you of death and an otherworldly comfort at the same time that you felt the need to have it close.

Your arms raise to the man hovering huskily above you, already naked and raring to go as your legs trap his own hips close to you.

His cock presses against your entrance and you whimper, already wet without even meaning to because he was just that big and strong and hard.

Once he’s completely sheathed in to the hilt, his tongue opens your mouth with a hiss because Namjoon, for all his lewd remarks and previous sexual experiences, was reduced to a wavering mess when deep inside your throbbing core.

All of them were, but he was especially sensitive to you, perhaps because he was the tightest fit of them all having the largest of his brothers.

And once you’re moaning under him, gasping for more, he pumps into you faster, harder.

“A-ah, Namjoon!”

His abs glisten with sweat, jawline more intense as he sinks into you further, and you howl out a ‘deeper, deeper, deeper, fuck!’ until he’s breaking through your womb and you think your stomach is bulging with the way he’s spit roasting you like a pig in heat.

“Y/N, my pretty baby,” he croons as you cum for him, walls clenching around his cock and he joins you beneath the waves of sin as ropes of white cum streak your walls lavishly, creaming your insides deliciously that you cum once more, this time stronger.

Wet kisses are placed down your throat, to the collar of your shoulders and neck as you groan, “More.”

A growl rips from Namjoon’s throat as he flips you onto your side, one leg up in the air. He’s still hard. Erect. And willing to please you no matter how long he has to or how many times he has to place his seed—his spawn –into your waiting, empty womb.

He was going to fucking get you pregnant just as you wished.

He kisses your bare shoulder as you’re panting and thrusts back in.

You wail, arching your back, spiralling into an unceremonious third orgasm. “N-Namjoon, mmmph—”

His tongue fights for yours, one of his large hands caresses your breasts as he goes, and in your stupidly horny haze, you fail to notice the long black horns that had reared themselves out of your lover’s head, too consumed by the throes of your endless thirst for cock.

Your lover grinds his teeth, willing himself to stave off on finishing again so he could prolong this as much as possible because by the demons, he wasn’t a holy man but your pussy was divine.

To your protest, he pulls out of you and flips you on your stomach, face pressed against the sheets. He grips your hips and gives a mild slap as you cry out, clenching around nothing.

Namjoon rubs his dick against the folds of your labia, coating it with your combined arousal before he’s entering you once more. “Gonna cum, pretty baby?” He grits out as he feels your walls nearly choke his cock to its demise.

“Yes, please!” Tears of lust streak down your cheeks as your hips involuntarily meet his movements and then he’s slapping the skin of your ass again and your eyes roll to the back of your head because it hurts and you can feel unlike most days when you don’t.

Namjoon snarls, lips descending to breathe on your neck, an arm righting you up through your waist, one hand steadied on the bed of support before he’s biting your neck and you convulse around him. “Fuck! Shitshitshit!” You moan lewdly.

You are boneless as Namjoon lets go of your waist to flip you onto your back, legs spread open before him and he’s licking at his lips, looking at you wildly.

You had your eyes closed the entire time, whimpering and blubbering. Like damaged goods.

He shifts and presses your legs flat, blocking your view of him and the unholy slaps of skin on skin.

“Fucking take my spawn, baby,” he sneers and then he’s sending ropes of thick release into the deepest parts of your now fertile womb because demons fucked differently, not that you were aware, his whole large frame trembling that if you were to open your eyes at any moment, you’d witness his long horns receding, his eyes turning back to its murky brown color, and his handsome face crumpled in a euphoric state.

“Fuck, baby.” He moans, collapsing on top of you, face pressed against your bountiful breasts, a tongue snaking out to lick a nipple and you laugh, mildly tickled.

He rolls to the side, pulling you close to him, “I love you.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead.

You hum tiredly. You had told them that you couldn’t feel and they still accepted you. But then again as your heart jumps at those three words, you maybe are in love with them too. “Yeah…”

You drift off to sleep safe in the arms of the man who was your forever.

—

“Our congratulations for the successful merger, Y/N-nim.”

A bouquet of red roses (you hated them) was thrust into your arms haphazardly by the old man that had nothing but a dirty, unholy regard for you. His young girlfriend keeps her face impassive and polite but you could see the same disdain you saw in your sister-in-law’s hateful gazes.

Having married your seven lovers, you handled the business side of things and one of their sponsors was this pudgy old man, an undisclosed child sex predator according to the reports that Nox had compiled for you.

Of course the public was none the wiser that South Korea’s seven beloved idols were now tied down. Only a handful of people knew—people you trusted and you’d like to keep it that way.

You may not really care much about the affairs of the world, but you weren’t just going to let someone as evil and disgusting as this man walk around freely.

It was time to weed out the bad ones.

Your painted lips curl up with hidden amusement (one of the only few times you were amused) as you thank him for the gracious gift. Side-eyeing your husbands who were busy conversing with a few different investors, you ‘accidentally’ trip on your heels, a hand landing on the older man’s chest as he shrugs off his affronted companion to help steady you, a faint blush on his cheeks and his heart thunderously beating beneath your palm.

You giggle demurely and pat the old man on the shoulder with thanks. “Forgive me.” You murmur.

“N-no problem, Y/N-nim.” He stutters, easing his tight collar with heart eyes, zoning into your open cleavage.

Suddenly, a chill envelops the air and a glance around the room tells you your plan had worked as seven pairs of eyes discreetly gleam under the chandelier lights.

Namjoon’s blue hair stands out in the ambience and his sharp glare is an even accompaniment to his black suit.

Your heart beats faster, anticipating his wrath as the classical music plays all around you.

Although you weren’t completely in the dark about your husbands’…other activities, you weren’t completely oblivious either.

You may be the epitome of apathy but you weren’t stupid nor blind to see that any man who dared to show more amorous tendencies towards you in front of your husbands goes to sleep with the fishes.

“Would you and the lady like to have some refreshments? Perhaps meet a patron?” You keep your smile neutral.

They nod and from the corner of your eye, your tall husband makes his way towards you.

Sometimes you had the devil within you.

—

Your brother sighs. “Baby sis, you are a fucking naughty girl.”

You come down from the high of your euphoric endeavors, slipping out your fingers coated in release. You keep your legs open for your brother to prey on as he licks his lips and splurts the screen with white.

Your nipples harden at the sight.

Your husbands were on tour and you were lonely, and they had given you permission so…

“Do they know you’re still being a naughty girl?” He asks genuinely, wiping the spunk off with his bare hands.

You grin at his handsome face, “They’re actually watching us right now. “

Your step brother freezes knowing how ruthless and possessive your husbands could be. “They like cuckolding?”

You shrug, gesturing to the cam corder set up behind you. Putting a finger to your chin, you tilt your head, seeming to be in deep thought. “Hmm, not really but if it’s with you they’re kind of fine with it?” you stare at your brother’s lovely eyes. “Just occasionally though, they say. “

He sighs, running his veiny hands through his mussed up hair that had been dyed a darker blonde. It suited him. If you weren’t his sister, and if he weren’t married to a brainless bimbo, you would have trussed him up and brought him here for amusement in the blink of an eye.

Your sister-in-law’s screech could be heard bouncing off the walls. Your brother smiles at you apologetically. “Oop, wench is awake.”

You shrug and wave him away. He hesitates, opening his perfect mouth—the mouth that had given you a sense of real pleasure before you found your soulbonds for life, love swimming in his eyes and you frown.

You’ve always had an awareness of how your brother felt for you. It wasn’t love, may be infatuation but it was more of a camaraderie between two lost souls trapped in a plastic home once full of fake, plastic fatherly love.

“Brother…” You warn and his shoulders straighten, perfect face in a blank mask before disappearing.

And as you turn, your husbands’ faces pop on another screen, all flushed and sweaty and mildly furious (Namjoon’s more so) and possessive that you lick your lips in anticipation of what they would do to you when they come home.

Home.

Something you thought you’d never have again.

“You’re getting punished as soon as we get back, baby doll.” Namjoon sneers, a vein in his neck prominently displayed and your legs clench in anticipation.

You smile. You played up to Namjoon’s kinks to feed the anger in his soul, and a furious Namjoon was the wildest in bed out of your lovers.

You wouldn’t have them any other way.

—

A white Arabian Jasmine is thrown atop a fresh pile of dirt as water droplets pelt the ground.

Namjoon spits, “She hated roses, didn’t you know?”

Seven smirks and then they leave in a haze of rain.

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