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THE CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Seventeen – They Buried Us Wrong}

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words: 7.7K!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter includes mentions of Manipulation, negative intrusive thoughts, violence, and revenge. (Mild/non-triggering)

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MATERIALIST

3rd Person POV

The night had wrapped the Valentino estate in its heavy, velvet silence. Inside, the glow from the sleek modern fireplace flickered softly against the polished marble, casting shadows that danced with the weight of unspoken words. The boys gathered in the expansive living room — seven figures drawn together by more than just proximity.

Since Heaven left for the gala, the air had thickened with something raw and restless. Their usual calm, meticulously maintained, was now cracking at the edges like fine porcelain under pressure.

Namjoon sat cross-legged on the floor, a laptop open before him, screens of data and research flickering across the glossy screen. Jin reclined against the leather sofa, eyes sharp yet tired. Yoongi and Jungkook sat close, shoulders nearly touching, while Jimin, Taehyung, and Hobi lingered nearby, the tension between them palpable.

"Look," Namjoon began, voice steady, "we talked about this before, but I've been digging deeper—trying to understand what's really happening with us." He pushed his glasses up and scrolled through a complex diagram. "There are codes—levels assigned to hybrids based on their species, threat potential, and... behavioral patterns."

He paused, watching them all carefully.

"There's green for the prey types, you know, the softer side—domesticated stuff like dogs or rabbits. They're low threat, mostly passive, but they have defensive instincts."

Jin nodded. "Makes sense."

"Then yellow," Namjoon continued, "which covers herbivores that can be territorial but aren't outright predators. Like deer or gazelles—alert, cautious, but not lethal."

Taehyung frowned. "What about us? We're way past that."

"Right," Namjoon said. "That's where red comes in—true predators. Lions, tigers, wolves. It's wild, intense, survival-driven. But what I found... there's a level beyond red." He leaned in, voice dropping low.

The room leaned in with him.

"There's a code I'm calling—Black."

A low murmur ran through the group.

"This code isn't just about physical strength or instinct. It's intelligence, cunning, manipulation. It's primal in a different way—obsessive, possessive, territorial to a degree that borders on dangerous."

Jimin's eyes darkened. "That sounds like... us."

Yoongi glanced at Jungkook, who sat unusually still, fingers twitching lightly.

Namjoon's gaze shifted to Jungkook and Yoongi, his voice softer now.

"I've been watching how some of us... well, especially you two." He nodded toward Yoongi and Jungkook. "There's something happening. More than just instinct. It's like the hybrid side is waking up with a different kind of hunger."

Jungkook's hands trembled slightly.

Yoongi's eyes flicked over, scanning him quietly. He said nothing, but the concern was clear in the way his jaw tightened.

Jimin caught the subtle shake, his gaze sharp. Without a word, he rose and moved toward Jungkook.

"Hey, kid," he said quietly, placing a firm hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "Let's talk."

Without waiting for a response, Jimin gently guided Jungkook out of the room.

The rest of the group barely registered. The conversation about codes and instincts resumed, but beneath the words, a silent worry lingered.

The boy who was once the baby of the pack was changing—becoming something darker, something more... dangerous.

And they all knew the moment to address it was fast approaching.

The door clicked softly behind Jimin and Jungkook, the hallway swallowing them in a low hush.

Inside the living room, the silence settled back like a familiar weight—but not for long.

Namjoon leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, the flickering firelight glinting off his sharp eyes. "Now that they're gone, we need to dig in deeper."

Hoseok furrowed his brows. "You mean about the changes?"

Namjoon gave a short nod. "Exactly. Like I said... not all hybrids transition or awaken at the same time. What we're going through—it's not just residual trauma. It's... evolution."

His fingers tapped rapidly on the arm of the sofa. "I think what happened during the kidnapping unlocked something in us—some part of our biology that had been forcefully suppressed. And now that it's out, there's no going back. But it's not happening to all of us at once. It's staggered, messy. Organic."

Jin tilted his head. "But why Jungkook and Yoongi first?"

"That's what I've been thinking about," Namjoon murmured. "My theory is maybe it's because they've been together the longest. Their instincts... synced. When one of them started to awaken, the other's instincts followed. It's like a chain reaction, but it follows bonds. Emotional ones. Maybe even imprint-level ones."

Taehyung spoke up quietly from his spot on the floor, eyes narrowed in thought. "Namjoon hyung is right... I've been feeling it too. It's like this... pressure building in the back of my head. Sometimes it's nothing. Other times—" He paused, expression twisting. "I lose track of time. I'll be doing something normal, like walking with Heaven through the rose garden, and suddenly I'll zone out and all I can think about is... protecting her. Possessing her. Keeping her away from everyone else."

A beat passed.

"I almost growled at the gardener last week," he added, eyes wide with disbelief. "He looked at her too long, and I just... snapped."

"Shit," Jin breathed out. "You too?"

Taehyung blinked. "Wait, you—?"

"Yeah," Jin cut in, "We were at that boutique Heaven loves, remember? This woman bumped into her, barely touched her shoulder, and I swear to God, I nearly shifted right there in public."

Namjoon nodded, his voice steady despite the rising tension. "That's another thing. I've noticed physical signs—ears, tails, even fangs. They've been slipping through more often. Jungkook's tail has been flicking out randomly. Yoongi's ears twitched out yesterday when he got annoyed. Taehyung, your pupils shifted when you saw that reporter get too close to Heaven. And Jimin—"

"I know," Jimin's voice came from behind them suddenly. He'd returned, face unreadable. "Kook's... processing. I've left him to get a grip."

He moved back to the circle and sat again.

"I've seen my reflection when I get agitated," he continued. "My eyes slit. Fangs too. And sometimes—" he clenched his jaw. "I know it's normal for hybrids to have heightened senses compared to humans but lately I smell things ten times more. I knew Heaven was upset two days ago just by scent. And it wasn't even strong. I could taste it in the air."

Yoongi's voice broke the hum of tense understanding. "I've been waking up with my claws halfway out. And I haven't been sleeping well. I dream in flashes—blood, instincts, the need to protect...to claim."

Everyone looked at each other.

"I did some more digging," Namjoon started, his voice low and steady. "I found out that hybrids often imprint on their owners—not in a romantic way, but more territorial. It's a form of ownership, a warning to other hybrids to back off. Harmless to the human... usually. But then I went deeper."

He paused, eyes sweeping over the group. The weight of his next words sat heavy on his tongue.

"Two years ago, a rich heiress bought a hybrid labeled as Code Yellow. Predator species. But the sellers told her he was weak, passive—not like the others. She thought she had complete control over him. Treated him like a pet... but under the surface, she was cruel. Subtle. Manipulative. She hurt him, but disguised it as care."

He exhaled. The air felt thinner now.

"Despite everything, the hybrid started imprinting on her. Because for us... imprinting only happens when we acknowledge someone as our mate—or worse, our owner."

The room was silent. Even the air stopped moving.

"At first, the signs were small. But then he began acting out—possessive. Every time she came home smelling like other men or hybrids, he’d scent her aggressively. Leave bite marks to show she was his. Then one day... he snapped. He went into heat and locked her in a nest he’d built. You can imagine what happened next."

A sick silence followed.

"Her staff noticed. She went missing for days. Pale. Covered in marks. They tried to intervene, went to her family. But by the time they got there, she was already... gone. Not physically, but mentally. She refused to leave him."

Namjoon’s voice dropped further.

"When they finally separated them, they returned the hybrid to the sellers—only to discover the truth. He wasn’t Code Yellow. He had been heavily sedated to seem docile. He was Code Red. They put him down immediately."

He swallowed hard.

"And when she found out... she killed herself."

No one spoke. Not for two full minutes.

But Namjoon wasn’t done.

"I think the same thing is happening to us. Slowly. We're imprinting... on Heaven. Maybe we’re holding it back for now, but I don’t know how long we can."

Hoseok's voice cracked when he finally spoke.

"W-What if we're not even Code Black? What happens if we lose control? What's going to happen to Heaven?"

The fear in his voice wasn’t just for himself—it was for her.

The room fell quiet again, minds spinning, panic creeping in around the edges.

"For now," Jin said, trying to sound firm, "we focus on stopping it. Controlling it. We have to."

Namjoon nodded, but his next words hit harder than any before.

"It's happening to all of us. Different times. Different triggers. But the instincts... they're rising. And this? It’s not just about being hybrids anymore. It’s something older. Deeper. We’re on the edge of Code Black... or worse."

Hoseok dragged a trembling hand through his hair.

"That sounds... feral."

"It is," Namjoon replied. "But it's not mindless. It's instinct with intelligence. Power with precision. That’s what makes it so damn dangerous."

"But it also makes it us," Jin said quietly. "We’re not pets. We never were."

A low growl slipped from Yoongi’s chest.

"We’re alphas. Predators. If the world knew what we really were… they wouldn’t cage us. They’d kill us."

"But they didn’t," Jimin whispered. "Because Heaven didn’t let them."

And then... silence again.

That name—Heaven—hung heavy in the room. Not just as a person. But as a lifeline. A warning. A trigger.

Because if their instincts were truly awakening...

They all knew exactly who they were awakening for.

Jungkook's POV

The silence in this room is fucking loud.

It's like the walls are pressing in, even though nothing's changed. The bed's still where it's always been. The damn chair's still crooked in the corner. Jimin hyung's scent still lingers in the air—fabric softener and warmth. But I'm alone now. Again.

He left. Said he was going to check on the others. Said it like it was no big deal. Like it wasn't leaving me in this goddamn echo chamber of my own thoughts.

I don't blame him. Not really.

I just hate how quiet everything gets when I'm by myself.

My head feels too full and too empty at the same time. That reunion... Soojeon. The moment he walked in, it was like someone reached inside my chest and ripped something loose.

He was alive. Breathing. Real.

And I should've been happy. Should've been overwhelmed with joy like the others were.

But I wasn't.

All I could think about was how his return cracked open every wound I thought I'd stitched shut. And Heaven. Heaven just stood there, like some untouchable angel of mercy, gifting us this miracle like it was nothing.

Fuck.

Her eyes—when they locked with mine—I swear, it felt like she knew. Knew exactly what I was thinking. Like she could see the chaos bubbling inside me. I didn't say anything. I couldn't.

What the hell would I even say?

"Hey, thanks for bringing back someone we all thought was dead. Also, I think I'm losing my mind."

I keep replaying that moment in my head. How Soojeon smiled, how Taehyung's hands shook when he touched him, how Yoongi's voice cracked. And I stood there, still. Cold. Numb.

What's wrong with me?

I used to feel things. I know I did. But lately... lately it's like everything's muffled. Like I'm walking underwater, and everyone else is breathing just fine while I'm drowning in plain sight.

I sit on the floor instead of the bed. Back against the dresser, knees up, head resting between them. My arms wrap around my legs like they can hold me together. Like they can stop whatever the fuck this is that's growing in me.

It's dark. It's heavy. And I think it's been there a long time.

But it's getting harder to hide.

Especially around her. Heaven.

There's something about her that unearths things I've buried so deep, I forgot I even had them.

Hope. Rage. Lust. Guilt.

And something worse. Something terrifying.

Need.

I need her.

And that's the most dangerous thing of all. Because if I need her, then she has power over me. And people with power always break me.

I close my eyes and let out a shaky breath.

She's changed everything.

And I don't know if I'll survive it.

The silence wasn't peaceful. It was suffocating.

I sat there, staring at the same wall I've seen a hundred times—except tonight, it felt like it was watching me back. The air in the room was thick, and not just with tension. It was something else. Something alive. Something crawling just beneath my skin.

My chest was tight, my throat dry, and not a damn glass of water in this world could fix it.

The thirst wasn't for hydration—it was for something else. Something darker. Deeper. Hungrier.

I clenched my jaw, fingers twitching where they rested on my thighs. I could still hear the echoes of Soojeon's voice, like phantom bells in my head. It brought memories, yes. But it also triggered something else. Something buried. Something dangerous.

I've always known I was different—fuck, we all were—but this? This thing inside me now? It was something new. Like shadows had nested inside my lungs, and every breath I took just made them stronger.

And the worst part?

I didn't hate it.

No. I fucking loved it.

There was a thrill in the darkness. A whisper at the back of my skull, telling me to let go. To stop holding back. To become something more. Something primal. Something free.

But then there was her. Heaven.

That girl... That stubborn, brave, beautiful girl. She made the shadows pause. Not vanish—just pause. Like even they respected her. Or maybe they were waiting.

And lately? She'd been acting strange. Guarded. Distant. Smiling too easily. Laughing too perfectly. Hiding the tremble behind her eyes.

I'm not stupid. None of us are.

She's planning something.

Something big.

And the thought of her walking straight into danger without saying a word?

It made the shadows inside me snarl.

I can't let her drown alone.

Not when I'm already halfway submerged.

I stood up. My muscles were tense, like my body hadn't caught up to the fact I was moving. I took one shaky breath before heading to the living room—where I knew the others were already spiraling in their own ways.

But I wasn't going in as just Jungkook anymore.

I was going in as whatever the fuck I was becoming.

3rd Person's POV

The soft sound of footsteps padded across the wooden floor, drawing everyone's attention like a ripple cutting through still water.

Jungkook entered the room, silent as ever—but something was off.

His eyes were darker than usual, hair slightly disheveled like he’d been pulling at it. Not in that chaotic, about-to-snap kind of way. No, this was quieter. More dangerous. Like still water that drowns you before you realize you're sinking.

Yoongi’s gaze sharpened, following every subtle movement. Taehyung shifted where he sat. Namjoon straightened, sensing the tension before words even filled the air.

"You okay?" Jin asked, though his voice was more rhetorical than concerned. He already knew the answer.

"No," Jungkook said flatly. No theatrics. Just stripped-down truth, bitter and raw.

Silence fell over the room like a heavy curtain, until Jimin cut through it.

"She's been acting weird."

Every pair of eyes flicked toward him. He nodded toward the main doors—where Heaven had slipped out hours ago.

"Not just off," he continued. "This has been building. She’s been on edge for weeks."

"She’s hiding something," Namjoon muttered, brow furrowed.

"She thinks she’s being clever," Yoongi added, voice low and unimpressed. "But she’s not. Not with us."

"She’s planning something," Jimin said, more certain now.

Taehyung scoffed under his breath. "You think?"

"She’s been training again," Jin added, his voice barely audible. "Late at night. Alone. Thought no one noticed."

"She’s been collecting shit too," Hobi said, leaning forward. "Data, maps, blueprints. I saw her screen once—she’s building something."

"She doesn’t trust us," Taehyung muttered, a bitter edge in his tone.

"No," Namjoon corrected softly. "She’s trying to protect us."

"And failing," Yoongi snapped. "Because we already know."

Jungkook didn’t speak. But his hands—clenched into fists at his sides—spoke for him. The veins in his forearms stood out, trembling with restraint.

Heaven. That girl carried storms in her bones and secrets behind her eyes.

They’d all felt it—weeks ago, maybe longer. The shift. The weight. Like something in her had cracked, but instead of breaking down, she’d just gotten quieter.

And now it was here, pressing on them like a countdown.

Something was building at the center of their world. A shadow curling at the edges. A plan unfolding behind locked doors and late-night sparring sessions.

And if they didn’t bring it to light soon…

It was going to explode.

And Heaven would be the one standing in the center of the blast.

The night glittered with cold luxury.

Crystals cascaded from golden chandeliers, the scent of vintage champagne lingered heavy in the air, and the floors were polished to an impossible gleam. Everything was poised to perfection—high society on full display like a tableau of power and pretense.

Heaven stood in the heart of it all.

A tall glass of Dom Pérignon dangled between her fingers like it belonged there.

Beside her, Jae stood quiet but alert—her personal assistant, yes, but also the second set of eyes she trusted most. Every look, every subtle gesture, was an unspoken conversation. Their movements had a rhythm to them, calculated but fluid.

They were hunting.

Across the ballroom, Park Jisoo laughed—loudly, garishly—with a cluster of overdressed women. Her champagne glass waved in the air like a wand casting ego instead of magic. Her dress sparkled too bright, trying too hard. And her friends? Predators in pastel silk. Heaven's gaze scanned each one of them like targets painted in red.

She recognized their faces.

Not from the news or runways—but from hidden footage, whispered rumors, and confidential files. These women had been present after the boys were stolen. They had used her hybrids. Touched what they had no right to. Laughed while pain was being served on a silver leash.

Heaven's fingers tightened around the glass, the crystal creaking faintly.

Two of Jisoo's so-called friends peeled off from the group and glided toward her, smiles painted on too thick to be sincere.

"Oh my god, Heaven, you look like you walked off a billboard," one of them purred, leaning in as if proximity could elevate her status.

"We've been dying to catch up," the other added, voice soaked in artificial sweetness. "You and those delicious hybrids of yours have been the talk of the town lately."

Heaven's face remained unreadable. Her lashes lifted slowly, gaze flat. "Talk of the town? Is that what you call illegal hybrid trafficking and psychological abuse now?"

The women blinked, smile faltering for the briefest second.

"Don't play stupid," Heaven said, her voice as soft as it was sharp. "I've already marked the places you all dine. I know who you hire. And I know a lot about what you do when you think no one is watching."

Their smug expressions cracked like porcelain.

"I didn't—" one of them stammered.

Heaven tilted her head slightly. "Are you done wasting my time?"

Silence.

"If you'll excuse me, I see my brother." She stepped past them, the brush of her dress a warning against their trembling knees.

Andre was stationed casually at the balcony doors, sipping his whiskey like he wasn't currently surveilling five guards and three camera blind spots. When Heaven stopped beside him, she didn't speak immediately. She just looked out at the city skyline while the strings of a classical quartet hummed behind them.

"They're folding," she murmured, eyes still on the stars. "You were right about splitting the bait."

Before Andre could respond, movement caught both their eyes.

Marcus.

He entered like a force of gravity, dark suit tailored to arrogance, smile carved with sin. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to make women question their self-respect. He didn't walk—he prowled. Every step was slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world and knew exactly how to use it.

And right on cue—Jisoo's head snapped in his direction.

She was already moving, her champagne forgotten on the table.

Heaven smirked.

"Showtime," Andre muttered, downing the last of his glass.

Marcus leaned against the bar, fingers drumming lazily on the polished wood. He didn't look at her when she approached, which made her all the more eager. She slid beside him, glossy lips parted in a practiced smile.

"Marcus Valentino," she purred.

He finally turned his head, the heat in his gaze just restrained enough to drive her wild.

"Park Jisoo," he replied coolly. "Didn't think I'd see you crawling out from under your father's leash."

She giggled, the sound a little too desperate. "Daddy worries too much. But I suppose that's what you get when you're worth billions."

Marcus smirked. "Is that what you think makes you dangerous? Daddy's wallet?"

"I'm dangerous for other reasons," she whispered, leaning in closer.

He let the silence sit for a beat, just long enough for her breath to hitch.

Then, "Let's get out of here."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

He met her gaze full-on now, voice like black velvet. "It's loud. Crowded. And I don't share attention well. Come somewhere quiet with me."

She hesitated.

He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You're safe with me. I'm a Valentino."

That was all it took.

Jisoo's pulse visibly jumped in her throat. She gave a tiny nod, the kind that women like her thought meant control—but in Marcus's hands? It meant surrender.

He offered his arm. She slipped her hand through it like she'd won something.

"Leave the guards," he added smoothly. "They'll just slow us down."

She hesitated again, glancing at the wall of black-suited men nearby.

Heaven watched from a distance, already mouthing the code to Jae who was synced to their team's comms. The guards were being redirected even now—small incidents staged across the venue pulling their attention one by one.

It was all happening.

Phase One: complete.

Marcus and Jisoo disappeared into the shadows of the gala's west corridor, hand in hand.

Heaven turned her eyes back to the ballroom, finishing the last sip of her champagne.

She didn't need luck.

She had a plan.

The gala's chaos slipped into the background like fading perfume. With Marcus leading Jisoo into temptation, Heaven stood poised at the edge of the dance floor, her presence still commanding—still calculating.

Her eyes cut through the crowd, sweeping past dresses and whispers and hidden weapons. And then they met her brother's.

Dante stood not far off, a flute of champagne in hand, grin lazy, posture relaxed—but the glint in his eyes said otherwise. It said ready.

Heaven walked up to him slowly, casually, like this was just another dance between elites. She clinked her glass softly against his.

"Phase one's wrapped," she said under her breath, voice low and laced with ice. "Marcus has her on the hook."

Dante gave a mock gasp. "You mean to tell me the goddess of glitter and daddy's credit card fell for the smirk again?" He shook his head. "Poor Jisoo. Should've studied some damn chess."

Heaven smirked. "We're moving to phase two. You know what that means."

Dante's entire expression shifted. The humor stayed—but it sharpened. "Time to knock on a certain ex-cop's front door, huh?"

"Kick it down," Heaven corrected. "And do it fast. I want Woobin gagged and bleeding before sunrise. You know where he is."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, finishing the last sip of his drink. "Abandoned district outside Gwanak. House looks like a piss-stained shoebox. Classy hideout for a once-upon-a-time chief commander."

She raised a brow. "I don't care what he smells like. Just bring me something to bleed."

He winked. "On it, boss."

And just like that, Dante turned, adjusted his cuffs, and disappeared into the velvet-soaked shadows of the night.

OUTSKIRTS OF GWANAK – 2:41 A.M.

The night air stung with the cold stench of old smog and rotting infrastructure. Streetlamps flickered like dying fireflies, and stray dogs barked at nothing in the distance. The neighborhood had long since fallen into decay—forgotten by the city, remembered only by criminals.

Perfect place for a coward to rot in silence.

Dante stood across the street from a run-down, crumbling home, dressed in black-on-black. His tailored Valentino jacket did little to soften his silhouette—he was a predator tonight.

Inside the house? Choi Woobin. Formerly Chief Commander. Now, a broken man running from a ghost he helped create.

Dante checked his watch, smirked to himself, and crossed the street.

He didn't kick the door in.

He picked the lock—silently, efficiently—and slipped inside like a whisper of death.

The place was pathetic. Stained walls, cheap furniture, pizza boxes stacked like a damn fortress of shame. It reeked of desperation and regret.

Dante didn't flinch. He'd walked through worse.

He found the living room and sat right down on the sofa like it belonged to him. Crossed one leg over the other. He even helped himself to the half-finished bottle of whisky left on the floor.

And then... he waited.

Fifteen minutes passed before the sound of boots on gravel echoed outside. A key clumsily scratched at the door, missed the lock twice, then finally slid it open.

In stumbled Woobin.

Hair disheveled. Shirt unbuttoned. Tie loose. A half-smoked cigarette hung from his lips, and the stink of cheap alcohol followed him like a curse.

He mumbled something to himself, kicked the door shut behind him—and then froze.

His drunken gaze landed on Dante sitting in his chair, holding his whiskey, smirking like the goddamn Devil came for dinner.

"Wha... What the fuck—" Woobin slurred, reaching for something—anything.

Dante raised a brow. "Ah, ah, ah. No sudden movements, Chief Commander," he cooed, voice like silk over steel. "Oops. My bad. Ex-Chief Commander."

Woobin blinked hard, stumbling back, hitting the side table.

"Who the hell are you—"

Dante scoffed dramatically. "Ouch. That hurts. Really. You don't remember me?" He stood, walked forward slowly. "Maybe this'll jog your rotting little memory."

He leaned in close.

"Dante Valentino."

Woobin paled like a dying man.

"M-Mr. Valentino, listen—"

"Damn," Dante interrupted, whistling low. "Now he remembers. Look at that. Alcohol and early-onset karma—hell of a mix."

Woobin's hands shook as he raised them defensively. "I didn't mean—listen, it was all about the money, alright? I just—I had debts. That bastard tried to pay me off. I didn't take the money—I swear—"

"Ohhh, don't swear," Dante cut in, tone darkening like a storm cloud. "Especially not to me. That's not even what I came here for, but thanks for confessing."

Woobin's breath hitched.

Dante tilted his head. "But since we're getting real, Woobin... how about that night at La Sangre?"

Woobin's face twisted. "The—casino?"

Dante smirked. "Yeah. The one you tried to rob. You remember? You and your idiot friend thought you could count cards in a Valentino-owned pit? You really didn't know who the fuck you were dealing with, huh?"

Woobin's eyes darted to the door.

Dante chuckled. "Don't. Try it, and you'll lose your kneecaps before you hit the doorknob."

"I—I'll pay back everything—"

"Oh, sweetheart," Dante said, mocking pity in his tone, "this ain't about money anymore. This is about penance."

Woobin's legs gave out. He collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavy. Sweating.

"I didn't want this," he whispered. "Kim Jeongsin—he made me—"

"Jeongsin?" Dante clicked his tongue. "Now we're getting to the meat."

He crouched in front of Woobin, voice dropping lower. "You helped traffic my brothers. You sold them like meat. You want to cry about Jeongsin pressuring you? Cry to someone who gives a fuck."

And then he stood, dusting imaginary lint off his pants.

"I really didn't want it to end like this," he sighed, sounding almost bored.

"But..."

He swung fast—quicker than Woobin could react—knuckles connecting with the side of his skull with a sharp crack.

Woobin slumped like a puppet with its strings cut.

Dante stared down at the unconscious mess on the floor, then rolled his neck.

"...Nighty night, asshole."

Dante hauled Woobin's unconscious weight into the back seat of the SUV, muttering curses under his breath.

He pulled out his phone, hit speed dial.

"Hello," Heaven answered, her voice cold and calm.

"I got your pig," Dante said. "Shit's heavy though. Couldn't you have asked for someone with less fat and more fear?"

Heaven chuckled lightly. "Quit being a baby. Get him to the safe house. We move on Jeongsin at dawn."

Dante grinned as he started the engine. "Yes, ma'am."

The call ended.

The war continued.

The scent of the gala still lingered faintly in the air—champagne, sweat, desperation. But the night had moved on.

Heaven and André strolled side-by-side beneath the low hum of the city lights, far from the eyes of high society. The streets were quiet, but their silence was heavy, filled with plans that would change everything.

André lit a cigarette, letting the smoke curl from his lips as he turned to her. "So...?"

Heaven nodded. "Phase two is complete. Dante has Woobin. I'm sending him straight to hell next."

He exhaled, watching her with that subtle admiration he only ever reserved for her. "You always deliver."

She raised a brow. "And you're up next."

He chuckled. "Lucky me."

They reached the corner of the block where their cars waited. The moment lingered, tension laced with unspoken bloodlust.

Heaven tilted her chin slightly and whispered, "I'll see you on the other side."

André's lips curved into that crooked, deadly smile—the one that made grown men flinch and women melt.

"See you soon, sorellina."

And with that, they parted like storm clouds drifting to opposite ends of a battlefield—two pieces of the same war.

Kim Jeongsin's Estate – 3:47 A.M.

His estate sat on the edge of a private mountain. Grand. Isolated. Arrogantly expensive. The type of place built by men who believed they were gods.

But tonight, the devil walked through its doors.

André slipped in like breath through cracks, dressed in a black velvet coat, gloves, and murder in his veins. He moved past marble columns and priceless art without sparing a glance.

The security? Already neutralized. Silent takedowns, pressure points, whispered goodnights. He didn't come to knock. He came to end.

He stopped outside a tall set of mahogany doors—the home office. Lights still on.

He pushed the door open with zero hesitation.

And there sat Kim Jeongsin. Behind a desk of dark-stained wood, framed by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a glass of whiskey in hand. He looked like a man who thought he still had power.

André stepped in slowly, gracefully, and took a seat on the leather couch directly across from him, legs crossed, calm as a lake before a hurricane.

Jeongsin didn't even flinch.

"Well, well," he said smoothly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Valentino?"

André didn't answer.

"Judging from the news, you must be André, the eldest Valentino brother," Jeongsin continued. "The quiet one. The strategist." He smiled, arrogant. "You know, I always thought Heaven had a stronger bite than her brothers. But maybe that's just the rumors talking."

André tilted his head, cool and quiet. "You talk too much."

Jeongsin laughed. "And yet, here you are. In my house. Alone. No guns. No guards. No backup. Tsk, tsk. I expected more from a Valentino."

André only raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly into the couch.

"How did you even find me?" Jeongsin went on. "Oh, wait—" He smirked condescendingly. "That's right. You're a Valentino. Bloodhounds in suits."

André smiled. "It's cute. Watching you pretend the ground isn't already crumbling under your feet."

Jeongsin's eyes narrowed. "I don't crumble."

"No," André said, voice calm, "you rot."

There was a pause.

Jeongsin chuckled—low, cold, and condescending.

"You really are insane. Showing up here alone."

He raised his glass mockingly. "Cheers, Valentino. You just made the dumbest mistake of your life."

He sipped.

And froze.

The glass trembled slightly in his grip as his eyes widened. His limbs locked. Fingers twitched but refused to obey. Panic crept across his face like poison sinking beneath the skin.

"W-What the fuck...?" he whispered, voice cracking.

André rose slowly, like a shadow peeling itself from the dark. Each step forward was deliberate. Unhurried. Inevitable. He perched on the desk, just inches from Jeongsin’s paralyzed frame, and smiled—not with warmth, but with precision.

His voice slid through the air like dark velvet laced with blades.

"Mistake?" he murmured. "No, Jeongsin. The mistake was yours."

Jeongsin's eyes darted, frantic.

"W-What did you do?!"

André tilted his head, amused. "You drank from a bottle you left unattended. Rookie mistake. Never drop your guard when your enemy’s sitting across from you."

He gave a slow, pitying smile. "Tells me everything I need to know about you. Careless. Arrogant. Weak."

"You—" Jeongsin tried to snarl, but his words slurred, his tongue suddenly heavy. "You fucking snake—"

"No," André said, cool and unbothered. "I'm a Valentino."

He leaned in, eyes burning. "And that's not what should terrify you."

From his coat pocket, he drew a sleek black blade—not to use, just to show. He turned it in the light like an artist appreciating his favorite instrument.

Jeongsin’s breath stuttered.

"Wh-What do you want from me?"

André’s voice dropped, deep and lethal.

"I want you to understand one thing before you leave this room unconscious and disgraced."

He leaned even closer, their faces now inches apart.

"Being a Valentino isn’t what makes me dangerous."

Pause.

"What makes me dangerous... is who I love."

Jeongsin’s eyes went wide.

"You laid hands on my sister’s hybrids. You put her through hell. Tried to take from her. From us."

Jeongsin hissed, spite crawling from his lips.

"That’s because your bitch of a sister killed my brother."

André tsked, tilting his head.

"She actually did humanity a favor."

His smile sharpened, eyes narrowing.

"And don’t you ever say my sister’s name with that vile mouth of yours. I’m very protective of that crazy little gremlin."

He exhaled, bored now. The thrill had passed.

"And for what you’ve done… there is no forgiveness."

Jeongsin gasped, fighting the drug.

"You—you think this ends with me—?"

André stood tall, smoothing out his coat like this was just business.

"No," he said, smile widening. "This starts with you."

Then, gently—too gently—he raised the hilt of his blade and swung.

The blunt impact cracked against Jeongsin’s skull.

Silence.

"Nighty night, from my lovely Sorellina" He whispered to jeongsin's unconscious body.

4:30 A.M. – Warehouse

André dragged Jeongsin’s limp body through the doors of a hidden compound, lit only by pale security lights and the colder glow of vengeance. He dropped the bastard onto the ground like garbage.

Heaven looked up from the table, where she was calmly sharpening her blade.

André dusted off his gloves with a silk cloth.

"Jeongsin says hi."

Her lips curled, wicked and pleased.

"Hope you told him I said nighty night."

André smirked. "Don’t worry. He heard it."

The house was still, the kind of stillness that hummed beneath the surface—like a storm was watching, waiting to rip through the silence.

Soft lamps lit parts of the hallways. Distant clicks of a clock echoed against the hardwood floors. The mansion looked asleep, but the boys inside weren't.

Yoongi sat in the study, legs propped on the coffee table, absently flipping through files—scattered intel, maps, red-marked names. His phone lay face-up beside him, silent until it wasn't.

Namjoon paced the floor of his room, shirt halfway unbuttoned, brows furrowed like they'd been since the last full moon. Hoseok was in the kitchen, hands stained with coffee and cigarette smoke, pretending caffeine would fix the hollow in his chest. Taehyung lounged on the rooftop balcony in the night air, watching the moon as if waiting for it to whisper secrets. Jimin hadn't sat down in hours.

And Jungkook? He was in his room, staring at the ceiling like it had answers. Still feeling the shadows in his chest from earlier. Still spiraling.

Until Yoongi's phone rang.

A single vibration. A name with no ID. Only one person used that line.

He answered, low and cautious. "Talk."

A clipped voice replied:

"Coordinates are set. They're already in motion."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. "Send me the location. I'll handle the rest."

Click.

Yoongi stood, grabbing his coat as he moved down the hallway with a sharpness in his steps. He found Namjoon in his room and tossed the phone on his desk, the GPS pulsing on the screen.

"She's already made her move. The location's live."

Namjoon looked up, eyes dark. "Is it confirmed?"

Yoongi nodded. "Jisoo, Woobin, and Jeongsin. All captured. She's taken them to a warehouse. Remote. Off grid."

Namjoon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "She really did it..."

"She's not alone," Yoongi added. "She's been working with her brothers. This wasn't some half-assed vendetta. This was a calculated, multi-phase plan."

"Goddamn it, Heaven..." Namjoon muttered, more in awe than anger.

Just then, the door creaked open.

Jungkook.

Dressed in black joggers and a hoodie, hair tousled, eyes red—but alert. He didn't speak at first. Just stood there, staring at both of them like he'd heard a ghost whisper.

"What did you just say?" he asked, voice rough. "You found her?"

Namjoon turned slowly. "Jungkook—"

"Don't lie to me," he snapped, stepping forward. "I heard you. You found her. And you knew. You knew why she's been acting weird lately. Didn't you?"

The tension in the room broke like a glass against concrete.

Yoongi sighed. "Come in. We were about to call the others anyway."

Within minutes, all seven of them were gathered in the main lounge—faces heavy with questions and fire.

Yoongi stood near the window, arms crossed. "We've been working with someone on the inside. An informant who's been tracking her movements for the last few weeks. Not just her. The Valentinos."

"She didn't just vanish," Namjoon added. "She disappeared into a calculated mission. Phase by phase."

"What the hell is she doing?" Taehyung asked, hands clenched.

Namjoon looked around the room. "She's taking them down. All of them. Park Jisoo. Choi Woobin. Kim Jeongsin."

"And she did it for us," Jimin said softly, voice cracking. "She's cleaning up the filth that hurt her... that hurt us."

"She went to the gala not just to show face," Hoseok murmured, putting the pieces together. "She went there to infiltrate Jisoo."

"And she succeeded," Yoongi confirmed. "Jisoo was captured tonight. Along with the other two. They've been taken to a warehouse, locked down and guarded. Torture might be involved. Not that I'm losing sleep over it."

Jungkook was silent. Chest heaving.

"She didn't tell us," he muttered. "She shut us out. All of us. She acted like she was fine. Like nothing was wrong—"

"She was protecting us," Namjoon cut in. "This wasn't just revenge. This was war. A war she's been quietly preparing for."

A heavy silence fell.

Then Yoongi stepped forward and dropped a folder onto the table—photos, maps, phone records.

"Here's the plan. We're going after her."

They all looked up.

"She's good, but she's not untouchable," Yoongi continued. "There's a reason she didn't tell us. But if she thinks we're going to sit back and wait for the fallout—she's out of her mind."

"She'll kill us for interfering," Hoseok warned, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

"Let her try," Jungkook said coldly.

"She's our family including Andre, Marcus and Dante," Jimin said. "They bleed, we bleed."

Namjoon grabbed the map. "We hit the road in thirty. Full surveillance gear. Stealth only. We don't engage unless necessary."

"Warehouse location's three hours out. Remote forest perimeter. They'll have lookouts, traps. It's the Valentinos—we're not walking into a tea party," Yoongi said, voice low.

"And if they see us?" Taehyung asked.

Jungkook stepped forward, voice hard. "Then we make them see that we're not there to stop her—we're there to fight with her."

A pause.

They all exchanged looks. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just resolve. Loyalty. Love. Fury.

"She started this war," Namjoon said. "We're gonna help her end it."

The air shifted.

Thick. Electric. Wild.

Something dark had cracked open in the atmosphere like a storm breaking the sky wide. The once silent estate was no longer sleeping—it was stirring. The moonlight slicing through the clouds cast silver fangs across the stone floors, and the air buzzed with the scent of bloodlust barely leashed. It wasn't fear. No. It was freedom. The kind that makes monsters grin.

They were done holding back.

Namjoon stood in front of the mirror, slowly fastening the silver buckles on his all-black tactical coat. The matte leather flexed across his broad chest, cut specifically for movement and dominance. His boots were reinforced, laced high and heavy like war drums waiting to sound. A black wolf insignia was carved into the ring on his finger representing the very thing he was forced to suppress, not anymore.

He looked at his reflection and narrowed his eyes.

"They wanted a monster? Good. They'll get a fucking goddamn beast."

His jaw clenched.

"Heaven... we'll end this for you. For all of us."

Jin ran his fingers through his platinum hair, now slightly longer and unruly—like the lion inside was clawing at the surface. His white muscle Tee hugged his chest and broad shoulders firmly his eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, minimalist yet impossible to ignore. He wore no weapons. He was the weapon.

He pulled on his gloves with surgical precision, gaze deadly calm.

"A lion doesn't need to roar to own the jungle."

He exhaled.

"Let them come. I'll remind them what royalty truly looks like."

Yoongi was a shadow in the corner, dressing in silence. His snow-white jaguar hybrid blood made his presence almost supernatural—calculated, cold, precise. He wore sleek obsidian combat gear with silver claws attached to his gloves, retractable and coated with neurotoxin.

He adjusted the blade at his back and rolled his neck with a pop.

"No more running. No more chains."

His pale eyes flicked toward the others.

"Time to hunt."

Hoseok adjusted the collar of his tactical vest, the fur-lined inside hugging his lean frame like the predator he was. His outfit was a deep charcoal-gray, camo-styled and designed for agile movement, paired with snow-white combat gloves and goggles strapped around his neck.

He tied his hair back into a tight bun, the last strands falling over his eyes.

"They used to call me sunshine... cute."

He smirked darkly.

"Let's see how they like my stormy side."

Jimin ran his tongue along the edge of his fangs as he flexed his fingers. His combat suit was lighter than the others—designed for stealth and strike. Tight, sleeveless, with hidden compartments for poisons only he could concoct. Albino scales shimmered faintly across his collarbone like tattoos beneath the skin.

He looked in the mirror and tilted his head, smirking at himself.

"Pretty little snake, huh?"

His pupils dilated, forked tongue flicking briefly.

"Let's give 'em something to choke on."

Taehyung sat with one leg up on the bench, lacing his high boots while the stripes of his white tiger form ghosted across his shoulders—barely visible, but present. His deep navy outfit bore blood-red accents, a visual contradiction that somehow made him look even more lethal.

He ran a hand over the dagger at his hip.

"They don't know what's coming. No one touches Heaven and gets to keep their hands."

His growl rumbled low in his throat.

"Let's make it bleed."

Jungkook leaned against the wall, staring at his gloves. His black panther instincts made his presence soundless, but inside, everything was screaming. His outfit was pitch black, molded perfectly to his muscular frame, almost indistinguishable from shadow. His eyes glowed faintly yellow.

He strapped on his arm braces, breathing slow.

"No more pretending to be tame."

He clenched his jaw, thinking of Heaven.

"Should anything go wrong and she gets hurt. They won't live to hurt anyone else."

Yoongi's voice broke the tension.

"Ready?" His tone was sharp as a blade sliding into flesh.

Jimin chuckled darkly and turned, flashing the gleam of his sharp fangs as he cocked his head. "Born ready. Let's fucking dance."

One by one, the others nodded.

Namjoon cracked his knuckles.

Jin's eyes narrowed like a lion on the prowl.

Hoseok rolled his shoulders, his grin feral.

Taehyung's pupils slit in the dark.

Jungkook said nothing, but the darkness wrapped tighter around him like a second skin.

Something inside each of them had snapped loose. No more suppression. No more fear of the animal. Tonight, they embraced it. The feral part. The untamed instincts. The killing calm before chaos.

They were no longer just hybrids.

They were retribution.

And as the door slid open, revealing the shadows waiting beyond—

The hunt began.

📣 AUTHOR'S NOTE

The Calm Before the Unholy Storm ☠️🔥

Hey my beautiful sinners 😈💋

WHEWWWW 😮‍💨 We are finally entering that era. The era of unleashed chaos, dark alpha energy, and feral thirst traps in tactical gear. No more slow burn. No more pulling punches. The boys are done behaving. They're embracing the monsters, the hybrids, the savage instincts they were bred to suppress. You wanted tension? You're about to drown in it!

This chapter was a ride — the buildup, the darkness creeping into their bones, and those final lines?? 😭🔥 Baby, even I needed to go breathe into a paper bag.

Just a warning from your fave chaotic author: things are gonna get messy. Blood will spill. Secrets will unravel. Heaven isn't the only one playing dangerous games anymore 😏

🖤 To all my loyal readers: thank you for sticking around through the slow burn. Your patience is about to be deliciously rewarded. Strap in. I hope you're ready for what's next...

Because the next chapter?

No one comes out the same.

Love you, stay feral,

Your favorite menace with a keyboard 💻💋

#HybridCarnageUnlocked #DarkEraBegins #TeamHeavenOrTeamChaos 👀🔥

TAGLIST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED!!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004 , @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud , @nikkiordonez12 , @taekritimin123, @mnguyeeen7, @danielle143 , @welcometomyworld13 , @avadakadabra93 , @kiaralynn3838, @sugathy , @anaspectoflife , @juju-227592 , @mygagustd93, @mageprincess7

#CalmAfterTheStorm #my writing #writeblr #bts fic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin bts #revenge #bts hybrid x reader #bts bangtan boys #bts fanfic #bts au #bts army #bts angst

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lynnettys-world · 1 month ago

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💭 Welcome to the Chaos Corner: Where My Brain Hosts Unhinged Group Chats With Fictional Menaces™

Hey babes 😘✨

So… I finally did it. I made a whole-ass corner of Tumblr just to document the straight-up chaos that goes on in my head when my characters refuse to shut up, behave, or let me sleep. 😩 From feral hybrids to mafia daddies, emotionally constipated soft bois to spicy doms, and that one innocent FMC who's just trying to study in peace? Yeah, they all live rent-free in my brain—and now, in yours too. You're welcome. 💅

This is where I post the crackhead group chats, behind-the-scenes energy dumps, unfiltered dialogue, emotional roasts, and the wildest inner convos I have with my OCs. No plot, just pure vibes. Think “author’s mental Discord server” meets “reality TV for fictional degenerates.” 📱🔥

✨ Come for:

Petty hybrid drama 🐾

Mafia sons being unholy in the group chat 💵🔪

Innocent FMCs going full savage by accident 🤭

Me arguing with the characters I created (and losing)

Bonus: spicy one-liners, unhinged simping, and emotional damage 💔🫠

📌 I'll also be linking:

Fic sneak peeks

WIP aesthetics

Favorite fic recs and spicy reads I'm obsessed with

Occasional thirst traps (because I’m still a slut for vibes 😌)

🔗 So if you're nosy, chaotic, or just horny for angst and hybrids—click the damn link, babe. Let’s spiral together. 💋💬

✨MY CHAOS✨

- CATS GC CRUSH OUT 😀

#my writing #writeblr #writerscommunity #living in my head rent free #chaotic thoughts #bts fic #bts #my ocs #my characters

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lynnettys-world · 1 month ago

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📣 AUTHOR’S NOTE aka "The Group Chat From Hell™" ☠️📱

(Now with 400% more emotional damage, feral thirst, and unauthorized knife possession)

Hey babes 😘 it’s your emotionally wrecked, chronically sleep-deprived, dumpling-powered author sliding into your dash like

🧎🏾‍♀️💥💥💥

YEAH, I KNOW. IT’S BEEN A MINUTE.

But guess what? A brand new chapter of Calm After The Storm is on its sexy, dramatic way 😩💋

It’s juicy. Someone might cry. Someone else might combust. And it’s about damn time.

I’ve been fighting real life like it’s a final boss battle (and losing). Between juggling uni, overthinking one line for 2 hours, and eating entire stress meals at 2 a.m., I’ve also been getting absolutely bullied by my own fictional characters. 💀

That’s right. While I was “resting,” these dramatic, violent, emotionally unstable brain goblins decided to hijack the imaginary group chat that exists in my subconscious. This is what happened.

💬 C.A.T.S. CHAOS GC (Vol. 2025)

— Lee added herself to the chat

(against her better judgment)

🐰 Jungkook:

LEE.

I WAS BLEEDING. I WAS BROODING. I WAS SHIRTLESS.

AND YOU CUT THE SCENE?!?!

🩸🖤 YOU ROBBED THE FANDOM. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY.

✨ Lee (aka Me, the Goblin Queen):

Who even gave you the authority to start this chat?

I gave you ALL trauma and plot twists, and you repay me with violence and ✨attitude✨??

🐱 Yoongi:

Give me my knife back. I know you hid it.

I was gonna stab someone IMPORTANT. For CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. 😐🔪

🐹 Jin:

Uhm...hello?!! Where are my mirrors?!! I need to check that Heaven is getting the beautiful face in the next chapter💅🏾 (Beautiful face is me)

✨ Lee:

Jinnie, not you too!!😭

🐺 Taehyung:

Lee, babe… hear me out…

Me. All black. Manipulating hearts. Soft voice, crazy eyes.

Tell me that’s not ✨art✨

Also, when am I getting my big D energy arc?

Everyone:

TAE SHUT THE HELL UP 💀💀💀

🐺 Taehyung:

Y’all are just jealous ‘cause you don’t have Big D—

✨ Lee:

(suspends Taehyung from chat for 5 mins)

Anyway. Moving on…

🐻 Namjoon:

Let’s breathe. Let’s read the outline. Let’s stay focused.

Oh wait.

THERE. IS. NO. OUTLINE. 😃📉

🦊 Jimin:

8 chapters. ZERO kisses.

I’m not saying it’s homophobic but I AM saying I’m being ignored.

Also, why does Jungkook get to be sexy, sad, AND shirtless? 😤

🐶 Hobi:

I swear to God if ONE more building explodes, I’m transferring to a slice-of-life AU.

I just wanted flowers and a picnic, Lee. A PICNIC. ☀️🌸

✨ Lee:

WHAT BUILDINGS, HOBI?? I NEVER WROTE ANY EXPLOSIONS 😭

🐶 Hobi:

Oops 😬 my bad. Wrong AU. Hehe.

✨ Lee:

I’M LOSING MY MIND IN 4K. 😭

🦁 Heaven:

You’re lucky I love you, kitten.

Drink some damn water and write before I crawl through your mirror and do it myself—with BODIES DROPPING. 💋

🧊 Marcus:

So no flamethrower warehouse scene?

…Soft. Weak. I expected more. 🙄

✨ Lee:

I HAVEN’T EVEN WRITTEN THAT FAR YET CAN YOU LET ME LIVE PLEASE 😭😭

🐰 Jungkook:

No.

Also: more feral but make it sexy scenes or I’m revolting.

And I’ll do it shirtless. 😏

🐱 Yoongi:

If you don’t delete this chat, I’m setting fire to the plot outline.

Yes. The non-existent one.

🦊 Jimin:

Lee, please call me your “emotional support menace” just once 🥺👉🏾👈🏾

🐶 Hobi:

I’ve started a prayer circle. For peace. For structure. For snacks.

✨ Lee:

IF ONE OF Y’ALL TOUCHES THE PLOT BEFORE I FINISH MY DAMN DUMPLINGS I SWEAR—

😎 Andre:

No one breathes near the plot. Let the author eat, jeez. 😒

😜 Dante:

Why am I always late for GCs😭

So yeah. That’s the inside of my brain right now.

It’s a circus. But like… an aesthetically pleasing, morally grey, slightly sexy circus with swords, trauma, and unresolved sexual tension.

If you’re still here, reading this, ILU.

Thanks for being patient with my chaos, my characters, and my emotional breakdowns in paragraph form 💅

Stay hydrated. Stay feral. New chapter is coming faster than Jungkook can glower at someone from a dark alley 😜

Forever your emotionally unstable writer gremlin,

💋 Lee

a.k.a. "The One Who’s Definitely Fighting for Her Life in This GC"

#my writing #writeblr #bts fic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin bts #bts x oc #dumps #living in my head rent free #The calm after the storm #cats #bts fanfic #writers on tumblr

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lynnettys-world · 2 months ago

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my seven 😭

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lynnettys-world · 4 months ago

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CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Sixteen - Heels, Heat And Havoc! Part I }

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words: 8.0K!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: strong language, slight suggestive content and of course fluff, hehe

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

Hey there my loves, before you begin this chapter I just want to tell you to please read the authors note at the end of the chapter. thankyou and enjoy! ;)

3rd Person's POV

The moment hung heavy in the air, the stranger's bright smile clashing against the suffocating silence that had seized the room.

"Finally, I've found you guys!" he beamed, voice ringing with a joy so pure it almost felt out of place. Too raw. Too real.

The boys stood frozen, as if their bodies refused to move until their minds caught up. There was something familiar about him. Something warm... something haunting. His scent lingered in the air like a ghost of a long-forgotten dream — cedarwood and cracked pine, the smell of cold metal and bleeding knuckles. It wrapped around them like a memory, tugging at the deepest, darkest corners of their minds.

It was Jungkook who spoke first, his voice almost a whisper. "No way..."

Taehyung's brows furrowed, eyes locked on the stranger's face, as if staring long enough would rip the answers from his skin. "Why does he smell like—"

Jimin staggered back a step, breath catching. "I've smelled that scent in my dreams."

Then Namjoon's eyes widened. "Wait... wait." The realization slammed into him like a freight train. His heart lurched. "Soojeon hyung?"

The man's smile faltered, eyes glistening. "Yeah... It's me."

And just like that, the dam broke.

Jungkook let out a choked breath. "Hyung?" he repeated, louder this time, his voice trembling as he stepped forward. "Is it really you? You're real?"

Soojeon opened his arms slowly. "I missed you all so damn much."

They rushed him like a wave. Jungkook, Jimin, Namjoon, and Taehyung collided with him in a crushing hug, arms wrapped tight, heads buried in his shoulders. Hoseok, Yoongi, and Jin stood a few paces away, watching with stunned silence until Soojeon looked up, eyes landing on them.

"Hobi... Yoongi hyung, Jin hyung?"

"Holy shit," Hoseok muttered, a hand covering his mouth as tears gathered in his eyes. "You're alive."

"I thought you were dead," Yoongi said hoarsely, eyes dark and unreadable but wet with emotion. Jin didn't say anything he simply walked forward and pulled Soojeon into a hug that said everything words couldn't.

Soojeon was trembling too now, laughing through the tears. "I thought about you all every damn day," he whispered.

They stood there, clinging to one another like survivors of a war. Because they were.

Memories began to rise like floodwater.

Cold cages with rusted bars. Screams echoing down metal corridors. Nights spent curled around each other like broken limbs trying to fit back into place. When one cried, the others hummed lullabies. When one bled, they all bled.

They shared stories in hushed whispers, made jokes to distract from the pain, held each other when the guards took someone away. Soojeon used to crack awful jokes at night just to make Jungkook smile. Taehyung would braid Jimin's hair with shaking hands to keep him calm. Namjoon would whisper escape plans no one really believed in, just to give them hope.

They were just kids. Stripped of everything, dignity, identity, even names. But they had each other.

And then one day, Soojeon vanished.

The guards dragged him out after catching them huddled too close, laughing a little too freely. Said they were planning something. That it was dangerous for hybrids to bond like that. Rebellion bloomed in closeness so they tore it apart.

They'd all screamed for him. Taehyung kicked at the door until his toes bled. Jungkook cried himself into unconsciousness. Namjoon had to physically restrain Jimin, who clawed at the walls like a wild animal.

But he never came back.

Until now.

"How?" Namjoon asked, finally pulling away. "How did you survive? Where did you go?"

Soojeon exhaled, wiping his face. "It's a long story. I was taken from that hellhole... by someone completely unexpected. Appa, Heaven's uncle. Back then, all I knew was that he was kind. He got me out of there before I snapped. Said he'd been keeping tabs on known trafficking networks. I was one of his rescues."

Jin's brows shot up. "You've been living with Heaven's uncle this whole time?"

Soojeon nodded. "Yeah. I didn't even know she knew you guys. It was only after Jungkook got shot that I started piecing things together. Your scent — all of yours it lingered in the clinic. I thought I was losing it. So I asked him, and he confirmed it when he showed me your files with your names and pictures. Said Heaven brought you in herself. Said she saved you."

Yoongi rubbed at his jaw. "So that's why you're here now."

"I had to see for myself. I had to know it was really you. I've been waiting for the right moment to show up, but... there never felt like a right moment. Until now."

For a while, no one spoke.

Then Hoseok broke the silence with a shaky laugh. "You haven't aged a damn day."

"Speak for yourself, Hobi," Soojeon grinned, wiping another tear away. "I see you've all grown into some real trouble."

"Still wild," Jimin murmured, voice thick.

"Still family," Soojeon whispered.

The word hit like a punch to the gut. Family.

Not blood. Not by law. But by survival. By trauma. By love.

They hadn't just remembered Soojeon. They had mourned him.

And now, somehow, by a miracle they didn't deserve,

They were back together again.

Later that evening, the house felt alive in a way it hadn't in weeks.

Laughter echoed off the walls, tangled with the scent of sizzling meat and clinking dishes. The kitchen was a mess .

Jungkook and Taehyung had taken it upon themselves to cook, which really meant Jungkook was doing everything while Taehyung snuck bites and narrated dramatically from the countertop.

"So I told him, 'Hyung, if you try to eat that raw, I will personally throw you off the balcony.'" Jungkook gestured with a spatula, lips twitching. "And he still did it."

Soojeon burst out laughing, head tilted back as he leaned into the sofa. "That sounds exactly like Taehyung."

Jimin grinned from the floor, where he'd sprawled across a pile of pillows, cheeks flushed and heart finally light for the first time in forever. "You really haven't changed, hyung. Not one bit."

Namjoon sat nearby, sipping his whiskey and watching them with quiet fondness, though every now and then his gaze would flick to the main door, thinking of Heaven. His shoulders would stiffen, just slightly, before he forced himself to relax again.

No one brought it up. Not even when Hoseok caught Yoongi staring into the fireplace a second too long, jaw tight.

They were holding onto this moment like it was glass — too fragile to risk dropping.

Jin returned from the kitchen, arms full of drinks. "Alright, someone stop the gremlin line from burning dinner, or we'll all be eating charcoal."

Soojeon stood, clapping his hands together. "Let me help before Jungkook stabs someone."

"That's fair," Jimin said, poking at his own cheek with a smirk. "He almost gutted Tae over the raw meat."

"He ate it raw!," Jungkook shouted from the kitchen, voice muffled by sizzling oil. "That's a sin."

It was laughter that drowned out the tension, familiar, vibrant, human. For a while, it was easy to forget the darkness. They passed plates and traded stories, reliving old memories and filling in the blanks of time lost. Soojeon had them cackling with impersonations of past guards, exaggerated to the point of ridiculousness. Jin laughed so hard he almost choked on his drink.

Everything was good. Better than good. It was healing.

Until the front door clicked open.

Soft footsteps echoed down the hall, heels tapping against marble, a purse strap slipping from a shoulder with a silken whisper. And then she appeared,

Heaven.

Hair pulled into a sleek twist, lips painted in her signature muted rose, and a long black coat draped over her tailored suit like a queen returning to her palace.

"Heaven," Hoseok greeted warmly, smile lighting up his face. "You're just in time. Jungkook's burning dinner."

"I am not," Jungkook called out, though his voice softened instantly. "Hey, you're back."

She walked in fully, shrugging off her coat and hanging it neatly on the rack, her movements precise and graceful. Her eyes scanned the room, pausing for the briefest moment on each of her boys relieved that the tension hadn't boiled over while she was gone.

Then her gaze landed on Soojeon.

"I take it you liked the surprise," she said, smile faint but proud.

The room fell quiet again not heavy this time, just a collective hum of realization.

Jimin blinked. "Wait... you did this?"

Heaven gave a soft nod. "I wanted it to be a proper moment. One you'd remember for the right reasons."

Namjoon sat up straighter. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

"There was... a lot going on," she replied smoothly, voice even, almost gentle. "Tensions were high. And Soojeon... he wanted to wait until the time felt right. You all needed this — the peace. The joy."

She left out the kidnapping. The underground dealings. The blood and bruises it had cost to protect them and bring them here. They didn't need that tonight.

Soojeon glanced at her gratefully.

"We're glad you did," Jin said, raising his glass slightly. "It means more than you know."

Heaven smiled, but there was something fleeting behind it, a shadow that passed too fast to name. Her eyes lingered on Jungkook a beat too long, and he, sharp and watchful even in joy, noticed.

She knew. She still remembered what happened that morning. So did he. And so did the other guys.

But none of them said a word.

"I'll let you all enjoy," she said softly, turning toward the hall. "I need to change."

"You sure?" Jimin called out. "We saved you a plate!"

"I'll eat later, sweetie," she replied without looking back.

As her footsteps faded down the hall, the mood hovered in an in-between — still light, still happy, but tinged with that invisible thread of something unspoken. Something dark. Something waiting.

Jungkook didn't laugh again. He smiled, yes, but it didn't reach his eyes. His hands were still steady as he passed Soojeon a drink, but Namjoon noticed how they clenched just a little tighter than before.

He was changing. Shifting. The sweetness still lived inside him, but something else was blooming now, older, darker, more dangerous.

And Heaven had seen it too.

But for now, no one would speak of it.

Because Soojeon was home.

And that was enough.

A few days had gone by since the boys and Soojeon reunited with them exchanging contacts and promising to hang out often.

Today felt different.

Heaven was humming.

That alone should've been the first red flag, if anyone in the house still believed in red flags.

The tune was soft, barely audible, but it threaded through the quiet morning like silk dragged over a blade. It was familiar and foreign all at once, the kind of melody that made you pause and wonder where you'd heard it before. A lullaby, maybe. Or something darker dressed in sweetness.

She drifted through the house like a dream that hadn't quite decided if it was a nightmare. Barefoot. Graceful. Wrapped in an oversized tee that hung loosely off one shoulder and a silky satin short, her skin dewy from sleep and morning light. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands falling into her eyes, and yet she looked awake. Too awake.

She moved with purpose in the kitchen, humming as she brewed coffee like she was preparing a potion. Each step was meticulous. The kettle hissed. The mug she picked said "You tried." She smiled at it like it had whispered something funny.

Jungkook entered just as the coffee finished steeping. His footsteps were silent, purposeful. He was shirtless, in low-hanging sweatpants, towel slung over his shoulder. Damp hair. Clean skin.

He didn't say anything at first just watched her from the doorway. He took in the angle of her spine, the way she swayed slightly to her own tune, how her smile didn't quite touch the corners of her eyes. She was performing. And she thought no one noticed.

He stepped forward. Calm. Collected.

"You're up early," he said, voice low and smooth, like dark velvet.

She turned, almost startled, almost but the smile kicked back in, just a fraction too quick. "Couldn't sleep," she replied, lifting the mug to her lips. "Too much on my mind, I guess."

Her eyes flicked to him, curious, casual but Jungkook held her gaze like he was reading subtitles only he could see.

"Yeah?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Anything I'd understand?"

That made her pause. Just a blink too long. Then she grinned and sipped her coffee. "Doubt it."

Jungkook chuckled — low, easy, like he hadn't just clocked the micro-expression she tried to hide. Like he hadn't already mentally listed all the reasons someone like her wouldn't sleep before doing something dangerous.

But he didn't press.

Instead, he stepped closer, walking behind her to grab a second mug from the cupboard. He moved slower than usual, deliberately casual. Letting her feel his presence. Letting her notice how much quieter he'd become lately. How much calmer. The old Jungkook — soft doe-eyed, easily flustered — wasn't entirely gone. He just didn't show up uninvited anymore.

"So what's with the humming?" he asked, pouring himself a cup, voice light. "Did we time travel back to the 1950s?"

Heaven let out a soft laugh. "It's just a song. I like it."

"It's creepy."

She raised a brow. "You're creepy."

Jungkook turned slightly, enough to meet her eyes over the rim of his mug. "I know."

He said it with a smirk. But there was something in his tone, something layered. She felt it. That subtle shift. Like he was showing her a corner of something sharp beneath the velvet.

Heaven's smile faltered just a little.

It wasn't fear, exactly. It was... awareness.

He noticed.

And she noticed that he noticed.

But neither of them said anything.

Instead, she tapped her nails against her mug, still watching him. "You've changed."

Jungkook didn't look surprised. "Maybe."

She tilted her head. "Where has my sweet kookie gone. The one who would call me Noona even though he's older than me just so I could treat him like a baby."

He gave her a boyish grin, sudden and almost convincing. "I still am and still here. Noona. You're just looking at me funny."

For a second, she laughed — a real one, not the kind that was forced or sugarcoated. But it ended too fast.

The room fell into a strange kind of silence.

Not uncomfortable. Just... dense.

Like something unspoken had been placed on the table between them, and neither of them was ready to lift the cloth.

The hallway behind them creaked faintly. A door opened somewhere in the house. The rest of the boys were waking up. But Heaven and Jungkook stood in that kitchen like the rest of the world hadn't quite caught up yet.

"Breakfast?" she offered suddenly, a little too chipper again.

Jungkook took a long sip of his coffee. Smiled at her, soft and dangerous.

"Sure," he said. "Surprise me."

And just like that, he stepped back into the mask she supposedly thought was 'gone'. The soft voice. The gentle act.

But Heaven?

She didn't stop watching him. Not even when she turned to the stove.

Because beneath all that honey and heat, she'd started tasting something else.

Smoke.

Jimin's POV

I knew something was wrong the second I walked into the kitchen.

Déjà vu slammed into me like cold water — sudden and sharp. I'd felt this before. The last time Heaven had shifted like this, it was chaos barely contained behind trembling fingers and tired eyes. She'd been unraveling then exhausted, drowning, disturbed. But now?

Now she was smiling.

That was the part that made my skin crawl.

She stood by the stove, humming softly, some old, eerie little tune that scratched at the back of my memory but never fully landed. Her back was to me, swaying slightly as she stirred eggs in a pan, like we were in some picture-perfect morning commercial. But there was something wrong with the picture.

Too polished. Too still.

Jungkook was sitting at the counter with a half-smile on his face, sipping coffee like he hadn't just watched the whole house tilt sideways. His eyes, though, they were sharp. Following her every move.

He knew. I could tell.

"Morning," I said carefully, walking in. My voice came out rougher than I expected. Like my body already knew it should be tense.

Heaven turned around with a bright smile, teeth and everything. "Morning, Jiminie," she chirped, like sunshine and fucking strawberries.

And for a split second, I wanted to believe it.

I wanted to believe she was just having a good day. That the shadows under her eyes were gone because she slept well, and the humming meant she was finally at peace.

But I've been around too long to fall for surface-level sweetness.

There was a chill underneath her warmth. A precision in the way she moved. Every smile, every blink, was deliberate.

I sat down across from Jungkook, eyes never leaving her. "You're in a good mood," I said slowly, careful not to sound accusing.

Heaven giggled. Giggled.

I swear I felt my stomach drop.

"Is that a crime?" she teased, plating the eggs and moving like she was gliding. "I just woke up feeling... motivated."

Motivated. That was the word she picked?

Jungkook snorted behind his mug. I caught the way the corner of his mouth twitched, he was entertained. Bastard.

"I think the world might be ending," I muttered under my breath, and Jungkook kicked me lightly under the counter.

The other boys started trickling in one by one — sleepy, messy-haired, rubbing their eyes and dragging their feet. Hobi Hyung yawned into his hoodie. Taehyung looked like he'd walked straight out of a dream. Namjoon Hyung gave everyone a suspicious glance, probably already catching onto the weird atmosphere.

But Heaven greeted them all with that same megawatt smile.

She poured orange juice. Set down plates like she was the perfect housewife. Hummed that tune the entire time.

And no one said a word.

No one wanted to break it.

Because no one wanted to be the one to admit how off this all felt.

Except me. I couldn't not see it. Not when I knew her so well.

There was something underneath that mask — something coiled and ready. Her smile reminded me of those tightrope dancers in horror films, always smiling just before they snapped.

She passed me my plate and brushed her fingers over mine. Cold. Perfectly manicured. I looked up at her and she winked.

Like we were in on a secret together.

Only I had no fucking clue what it was.

I forced a smile. "Thanks."

She tilted her head. "Of course."

Then she walked away, humming again, and the air felt five degrees colder.

I leaned over toward Jungkook, keeping my voice low. "What the fuck is going on with her?"

He didn't look at me. Just took another sip of coffee and said, so casually it made my skin crawl, "Maybe you're just seeing her clearly for the first time."

I stared at him.

And he smiled.

Not the way he used to. Not sweet or kind.

It was something else now. Calm. Measured. Like he was ten moves ahead of me in a game I didn't know we were playing.

That's when it hit me.

They weren't the same anymore.

Not her.

Not him.

And suddenly, I wasn't sure which one of them worried me more.

3rd Person's POV

Later that day, Heaven stood in front of the mirror, fastening the final clasp of her earring with the ease of someone who had done this her entire life—under pressure, under scrutiny, under the weight of every watching eye that expected her to be flawless.

She didn't blink.

Didn't fidget.

Didn't breathe louder than necessary.

The girl staring back at her was elegance forged in steel. The black silk gown poured over her frame like smoke, fluid and weightless, clinging to every curve with deliberate grace. A corset, just as dark, cinched her waist and lifted her bust like it had been tailored to sculpt, not just fit—tight enough to hold power, not just posture. Her deep red stilettos were sleek and dangerous, the kind that clicked like a warning and could shatter egos just as easily as bones. Not a hair dared fall out of place. Every inch of her was curated perfection, a quiet threat wrapped in beauty.

She looked like control.

Like danger wrapped in elegance.

Like a Valentino.

Not the kind of woman you forgot. The kind you whispered about when she passed. The kind you warned people about over champagne in too-bright rooms.

She exhaled slowly—once—just to feel the burn in her lungs. Her fingers twitched, but she didn't let them move. The stillness was important. It was armor. It was a message.

Because she had to be composed.

Had to be ten steps ahead.

Had to be unreadable.

If she cracked now, if they saw what she was hiding... it was over.

Her hybrids weren't stupid. God, they were never stupid. Sharp. Instinctive. Predators. Even when they were soft with her, even when they played house and smiled during breakfast, the truth still simmered beneath their skin.

They were starting to notice.

Jungkook's eyes had been on her longer than usual. Not just watching—studying. Like he was trying to memorize her before she changed again. That boy had the instincts of something half-wild, and right now? He knew something wasn't right.

Jimin kept walking into rooms like he was walking into a trap.

Hoseok paused in the middle of laughing just to look at her, like his ears caught a note the rest of the room missed.

Even Taehyung—quiet, cold, unreadable Taehyung—was listening harder. Clocking every breath she took like it might mean something.

They didn't have proof. But they had suspicion.

And suspicion was a slow, creeping thing.

It meant she didn't have long.

She swept on the final stroke of lipstick—deep, defiant red, rich as blood and twice as bold. It stood out like a siren's flare against the shadowy elegance of her all-black gown, a sharp contrast that demanded attention. This wasn’t a shade that teased or tempted. It didn’t flirt. It warned. A color that marked territory. A declaration. War paint in the shape of a perfect mouth.

Because this wasn't about drama or petty jealousy. This wasn't about image or status.

This was about rot.

About the kind of decay that happened when people thought they were untouchable. About lies spun like silk and leashes dressed up like love. About the arrogance of thinking someone like Heaven wouldn't notice.

She noticed.

And she was going to burn it all down.

Even if it meant coming back with blood on her hands and ash in her lungs.

Her fingers brushed over the chain around her neck—Namjoon's gift. Delicate. Thoughtful. Human.

She wasn't walking into some party to sip champagne and smile politely.

She was stepping into the heart of the beast's den.

The elites would be there, all of them. Glittering, hungry, fake. Trying to flex wealth they'd inherited and power they didn't earn. But she didn't need to prove anything. The Valentino name was enough. She was enough.

Daughter of the most feared bloodline in the modern world.

The only daughter.

The crown jewel.

Three older brothers who would burn the planet to the ground for her.

An uncle who ruled the Italian mafia with a cigar in one hand and the world in the other.

And now? Seven predator hybrids under her roof. Alphas. Powerful. Dangerous. Purchased with a smile and a bank account that scared even the top bidders.

She knew what they whispered.

She bought them all?

Why?

What does she want with predators?

They envied her.

Feared her.

Watched her like she was a story still being written.

She smirked, just slightly. Let them wonder.

Let them obsess.

She walked toward the door, heels clicking like a warning shot on marble floors.

If anyone asked, she was attending a charity gala.

If anyone followed, they wouldn't find her.

And if anyone tried to stop her?

She'd smile.

And lie straight through her teeth.

Because the truth wasn't something they were ready to hear.

And she needed them whole.

Even if it meant tearing herself apart.

Heaven's POV

I closed the door behind me with a soft click, the sound somehow too loud in the quiet hallway. My heels echoed as I moved forward, each step rehearsed, purposeful, distant, like I was already gone.

I didn't expect to see anyone.

I especially didn't expect him.

Taehyung stood at the end of the corridor, half-shadowed by the dim glow of the sconces, shirt loose, collarbone peeking through. His hair was tousled like he'd just rolled out of bed or had been pacing. Watching. Thinking.

His eyes lifted when he saw me.

And fuck.

He looked.

Not the soft child-like kind of look, not even the annoyed, brooding glance he usually gave when I disrupted his thoughts. This was... heavier. Slower. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, something that made me feel like prey that had volunteered.

We didn't speak.

He took one step toward me.

Then another.

And I froze. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel it—that ripple of something thick in the air between us, the kind of heat that wasn't born from a fight, but from something worse. Something more complicated.

My pulse spiked, traitorously. I hated that he could make me feel unsteady with nothing but a stare. But I also didn't move.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Close enough that if I leaned in even an inch, his lips would be the first thing I touched.

His gaze drifted from my eyes with agonizing deliberation, tracing the slope of my throat like a touch that hadn’t landed—yet. Then it dipped lower, settling on my chest with a heat that lingered just a moment too long, as if he were memorizing the rise and fall of every breath. Slow. Bold. Unapologetic. And then, finally, his eyes climbed back up to meet mine—darker now.

When our eyes met again, there was a question there. Unspoken. Taut.

My body answered it before my brain did—my breath caught, my fingers twitched at my sides, and that sharp, unrelenting ache that had been building for weeks suddenly threatened to spill into my bones.

I wanted him.

God, when the hell did that change?

It wasn't just Taehyung. No. It was them. All of them. The way they watched me lately, the way something in them had begun to stretch, awaken. The way my own thoughts had gone from warm to wicked without my permission. Something had shifted, and we were all pretending it hadn't.

But this?

This wasn't pretend.

He leaned in slightly, close enough that I could smell him, cologne and something darker, masculine, animalistic. I tilted my head up, met his eyes like a challenge, and for a split second, I forgot why I'd come out here in the first place.

His hand lifted—slow, deliberate—and hovered near my hip. He didn't touch. Didn't have to. My body swayed instinctively like it wanted it. Like it knew exactly what that touch would mean.

I couldn't breathe.

He was so close now that I could see the faint scar near his jaw, the one I'd never asked about.

"You're dressed up," he murmured, voice low, rough like velvet over gravel.

I swallowed.

"Charity gala," I said, fighting to make my voice steady. "Just for a few hours."

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read between the words.

I took a slow step back. Not because I wanted distance. But because if I didn't, I might forget every line I'd drawn for myself. I might blur them all for him. For this.

"I'll be back soon," I said, softer this time. "If the others ask... tell them the same."

He didn't say anything.

Didn't need to.

His eyes said enough—burning, unreadable, dangerous.

I turned—but I barely made it a step before he moved. Fast. Quiet.

Like he knew what I wasn't saying.

Like maybe... he felt it too.

His hand caught my wrist.

Not rough, not controlling just there. The heat of it pulsed through my skin like lightning in reverse, up my arm, straight to my chest. I stopped breathing for a second. Maybe longer.

He didn't answer right away.

I turned my head slowly, heart thundering.

"Taehyung...?"

Instead, he stepped in, his body a slow glide into my space until my back was nearly brushing the wall. His fingers stayed wrapped around my wrist, thumb brushing against the inside like he could feel my pulse racing. Or maybe he liked the feel of it.

His eyes dropped to my lips.

Then to the hollow of my throat.

Then back to my eyes.

"You smell like trouble," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

"You are trouble," I shot back, though it came out more breathless than I intended.

A flicker of something crossed his face—amusement, hunger, restraint. All tangled up in that way he had of looking at you like he could undo you without a single word.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the heat in his stare, or the silence stretching too tight between us but suddenly, I yanked him closer and crashed my lips onto his like gravity itself gave up and let lust take the wheel.

Then his hand slid. Down. Slowly. From my wrist to my fingers, tangling with mine for the briefest second before letting go.

But it was enough.

Too much.

Not enough.

Our mouths met in a frenzy, greedy and unrelenting, like we’d been starved for too long and finally found the feast. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw, desperate, right. His lips molded to mine like they were made for this exact moment, like they knew the shape of me already. His hands locked around my waist, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp—and from his throat came a low, wrecked sound of satisfaction that damn near undid me.

But just as I gripped his shirt, ready to pull him even closer, he tore his mouth from mine.

Breathless, both of us frozen, eyes locked, chests rising in sync, like something was about to happen again.

I stared at him, cheeks flushed, lungs struggling to catch up, every cell in my body buzzing. My brain screamed at me to say something. Anything.

I didn’t.

Neither did he.

"I should go," I finally whispered, the words shaky and stupid on my tongue.

He tilted his head slightly, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. But it wasn’t kind. It wasn’t soft. It was dangerous—the smile of someone who knew. Knew exactly what he was doing. Knew I was already undone.

“Then go,” he murmured. “Unless you want to stay.”

My stomach twisted, heat blooming low and fast.

I dragged my tongue across my lips, slow. His eyes tracked the motion like a hunter. And fuck, I almost caved again.

He wasn’t joking. Not really.

And yet, he wasn’t pushing. Just... waiting. Offering. Letting the fire burn if I wanted to let it.

I wanted to.

God, I wanted him to pin me to the wall and kiss the smug off his mouth until neither of us could remember how this started.

But instead, I took a breath that burned on the way down, forced steel into my spine, and stepped past him.

My shoulder brushed against his chest as I moved, and I felt it—just for a second—his body tensed. Like it took everything in him not to stop me.

But he didn’t.

No words. No glances. No reach to pull me back.

Still... I could feel it. His gaze clinging to me with every step I took down that hallway.

Like he wasn’t watching me leave.

He was watching the first page turn.

And fuck if I wasn’t already dying to know what came next.

I made it to the threshold—the invisible line between the living room and the foyer where the air shifted. Lighter. Colder. Safer.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Or so I fucking thought.

Because then I saw him.

Yoongi.

Seated on the couch like he’d been carved out of a dream I had no business dreaming. One leg crossed over the other, black shirt clinging to him like a second skin, grey sweatpants hanging low, and a silver chain catching the light as it rested against the sharp line of his collarbone.

He looked up slowly.

And his eyes—God, those eyes—dragged over me like a sin he was still deciding whether or not to commit.

He didn’t say a word.

He didn’t have to.

Just watched.

And somehow, that alone made me feel flushed and overheated, like I’d walked into smoke and forgotten how to breathe.

“What is it with all of you today…” I muttered, mostly to myself but his brow arched, the tiniest flicker of awareness like he’d heard every damn syllable.

Then Jungkook a few days ago slamming his hand on the counter beside me, his body all tension and heat as he demanded answers I couldn’t give. That low, guttural sound in his throat. Those predator eyes daring me to run. Alpha energy bleeding from every inch of him, shaking something loose in me I wasn’t ready to admit existed.

First, Jimin—last week—sliding up behind me in the kitchen like it was nothing. Arms around my waist, mouth brushing too close to my ear as he whispered, “You smell so good, noona. It’s intoxicating.”

He’d laughed it off.

I hadn’t slept right since.

And now?

Then Taehyung.

Fucking Taehyung—just minutes ago.

That look. That touch. That offer. That Kiss.

My thighs were still pressed together in a hopeless attempt to chase off the memory.

I tried to pass him. I really did.

Yoongi.

Silent. Intense. Unreadable.

Blocking the exit like fate itself decided I wasn’t allowed to leave untouched today.

But his hand lifted—fingers curling around my arm, featherlight. No pressure. Just enough to stop me.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, voice low and syrup-smooth. Like velvet. With a blade beneath.

My lips parted. “Gala,” I said, but it sounded more like a gasp. “Charity. Won’t be long.”

His gaze dipped to my throat.

Like he was trying to measure the beat of my pulse. Like he already fucking knew what had happened upstairs.

“You smell sweeter than usual, kitten,” he murmured, voice low and dark and wrecked velvet. “And every inch of you looks… thoroughly ravished.”

My heart skipped.

Thudded.

Fuck.

“Is that a compliment?” I asked, aiming for light but landing somewhere closer to breathless.

I’d forgotten—how hybrids could smell things. Feel things.

Things no one else could.

Things I hadn’t meant to leave behind.

“Did you run into Tae on your way down here?” he asked, so casual, like he didn’t already know the answer.

He tilted his head slightly, smirk ghosting his lips. “Maybe.”

Then his hand slipped away—but not before his fingers dragged over my skin in a slow burn, a whispered fucking promise.

“You let him get a taste...” he said, stepping a little closer, his voice dropping into something rough and low and hungry. “Aren’t you gonna give me a taste too, kitten?”

I swallowed. Hard.

Of course he noticed.

Nothing ever gets past Yoongi.

I needed to leave. Now. Or I wouldn’t.

I nearly combusted on the goddamn spot.

My knees buckled slightly, heat spiking so fast I swore I felt it rise off my skin.

My stomach did a full fucking somersault.

Yoongi’s eyes darkened, visibly darker now, the gold in them swallowed by something more primal.

“Kitten,” he said, and this time it was more warning than endearment, “your pheromones are polluting the house.”

He exhaled hard through his nose. Jaw clenched.

“I’d love to help you get off. God, I want to.” His gaze dragged down my body like a sin he was seconds from committing. “But right now? Not the best idea. So you should leave—before I stop being as merciful as Taehyung.”

He grabbed the front door and held it open for me, his hand gripping the wood so tight I could see every vein in his forearm pop.

Every muscle locked like he was physically restraining himself.

But even as the front door shut behind me, I felt it.

My shoes clicked against the marble, echoing like gunshots in the silence.

My heart pounded.

Heat still pooled deep and low—an ache I couldn’t shake off.

Felt them.

Circling me.

All of them.

Their eyes.

Their tension.

Their questions without words.

And me?

Like predators who hadn’t yet decided who would make the first move.

Who would sink in first.

I was the fucking moon—just waiting to be dragged out of orbit.

3rd Person's POV

The Rolls-Royce Phantom, an emblem of wealth and supremacy, coasted through the grand entrance of the Moonlit Diamond Gala, the most anticipated event in Seoul's social calendar. The sleek black exterior gleamed under the lights as the vehicle came to a seamless stop, its tires barely kissing the paved ground, and with it, the atmosphere seemed to pause, holding its breath.

The chaos outside the venue—a sea of paparazzi and curious onlookers—was nothing compared to the storm that would soon erupt within. The flashing lights turned into a frenzy as the door opened, and Heaven stepped out.

She didn't arrive—she unfolded.

Her heels clicked on the pavement with precision, the stiletto tips whispering in rhythm with the heartbeat of the city. The instant she emerged from the car, a wave of attention hit her like a wave crashing onto a shore. Her presence, somehow both understated and completely overwhelming, forced the crowd into a state of awe.

Her gown—a black silk creation by Valentino—flowed with a grace that could have belonged to royalty. A slit cut high along her thigh, showing just enough skin to make every gaze linger longer than necessary, yet all the while, she was untouchable. The fabric shimmered under the event's bright lights, drawing even more attention to her every move.

The cameras snapped relentlessly, eager to capture the moment—the arrival of Heaven Valentino, the heiress to a legacy that loomed over Korea and beyond like a dark star. Foreign elites, chaebols, heirs, heiresses, and CEOs of the most influential companies in the world stood frozen as they caught sight of her. There was no mistaking it—this event had transformed the moment she walked in.

Heaven's bodyguards moved with seamless coordination, forming an unbreachable shield around her, their bodies as cold and efficient as her own demeanor. The sudden surge of paparazzi and fans, hungry for a glimpse, could barely make it through the circle of protection. Flashbulbs exploded, the air buzzing with the harsh sounds of snapping cameras, but Heaven's gaze didn't waver.

She kept her eyes ahead, her posture straight, exuding an air of indifference that made it clear: she was the one who decided who got close. And it wasn't going to be anyone who wasn't worthy.

Her heels clicked up the staircase, each step an unspoken command to the world to follow her lead.

That's when it happened.

A voice rang out from the chaos. Loud. Brash. Bold.

"Well, well, look who thinks she's untouchable." A man with an arrogant sneer stepped forward—Lorenzo Bravanti, the third son of an oil magnate from Italy, all flashy designer suits and a grin that reeked of entitlement. His father's money had earned him an invitation, but it was clear his manners were as underdeveloped as his sense of respect.

"I said," he continued, stepping closer to Heaven, "You gonna keep pretending like you're better than everyone else, or is this some kind of act? You think you're above everyone just 'cause you're a Valentino? What, are you too good for this crowd?"

A flicker of annoyance sparked in Heaven's eyes, but her voice remained an unshaken calm.

"Ignore you?" She paused, tilting her head. Her voice was quiet, calculated, yet it carried an authority that made the air around her seem to freeze. "Sweetheart, I don't ignore pests. I exterminate them."

Lorenzo laughed, as though he thought she was joking. But as the words left her mouth, something in the crowd shifted.

A shadow moved.

And it wasn't long before that shadow expanded into something far more powerful.

The room stilled. The first of Heaven's brothers entered, his aura unmistakable.

Andre Valentino.

A strategist at heart, his gaze calculated, cold. With a mere lift of his hand to adjust his cufflinks, the energy in the room seemed to turn. The very air around him hummed with power. The way he carried himself—the effortless confidence, the quiet precision in his movements—made it clear to everyone in the room that he wasn't just another wealthy businessman. He was a force, a man who could dismantle entire industries with a single move. When he spoke, people listened. When he commanded, people obeyed.

Next came Marcus Valentino.

He was silent. But in that silence, he was dangerous. His expression was unreadable—almost serene, until the weight of his gaze settled on Lorenzo. That look alone, without a single word, made it clear that Marcus was not a man you wanted to cross. The tension in the room escalated. Marcus was the silent predator, the type who toyed with his prey before ever striking. And in the hushed whispers of the crowd, the legend of Marcus Valentino was known all too well.

But it was Dante Valentino who caused the biggest stir.

He walked in with all the energy of a star athlete on a field, his grin wide, eyes sparkling with mischief and something darker. His entire presence seemed to contrast sharply with the quiet intensity of his brothers. Yet there was something in the way he spoke, in the tone of his voice, that made people uneasy despite his laid-back demeanor. Dante had always been the extrovert of the trio—the one who smiled in the face of danger, the one who defused a room's tension with a well-timed quip or sarcastic remark. But beneath that jockish exterior was a man capable of such brutality that even the most hardened criminals learned quickly to fear him.

The crowd was electric now. The tension in the room was palpable. People shifted uneasily as the trio of Valentino men each different, yet united by blood and power moved seamlessly toward Heaven.

It was only when they finally reached her that the room collectively held its breath.

Heaven didn't break her stride.

She simply glanced at them, her lips curling into a brief, satisfied smile. But it was Andre's hand on her shoulder, Marcus's unblinking gaze, and Dante's taunting chuckle that had the effect she desired: everyone in the room could feel the weight of their presence. Could feel the slow-burning tension between them. The four of them together? It was like the world itself bent at their will.

Heaven's calm, icy stare was all it took.

"Lorenzo," she said coolly, her voice still as smooth as glass, "Your comments aren't worth my time, but I'll make sure to send you a gift basket... just as a reminder of who you'll never be."

Lorenzo sputtered, visibly shaken now, but it was Dante's voice that came next, laced with mockery.

"You're lucky we don't let our toys play with other kids, sweetheart," Dante chimed in, his tone almost playful. "Next time you want to run your mouth, remember who's in the room."

The crowd's whispers escalated, and now, everyone understood.

Lorenzo was not just facing a woman of immense wealth. He was facing a family—a dynasty. And it was a dynasty he wasn't meant to touch.

A chilling silence followed, only broken by Marcus's low chuckle. "I think you should leave, before you make this worse."

Heaven didn't even bother to look at him. Her attention was on the room now. As her brothers flanked her, their presence almost suffocating in its weight, the entire gala seemed to know one thing:

They had just witnessed the power of the Valentino bloodline.

As Lorenzo stumbled away, pale and deflated, the energy in the room shifted again—but this time, it bent in a very different direction. No longer tense. Just... silent. In awe.

The Valentino siblings didn't just walk away from the confrontation, they glided, wrapped in an invisible cocoon of dominance that no one dared penetrate. Their synchronized steps, the way they naturally fell into rhythm without speaking it was like watching the most dangerous chess pieces move in formation, completely in sync, completely untouchable.

They were in their own world now. Untouchable. Untamed. Unbothered.

People watched them from the edges of their champagne flutes, holding their breath. CEOs froze mid-sip. Idol managers held back their starlets from approaching. Even foreign dignitaries—the kind used to commanding attention—couldn't help but shrink just a little in their presence.

And right at the center of that storm, Dante, of course broke the silence first.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his custom Versace suit, that devilish grin of his plastered on his face like he was moments away from cracking up. "Damn, did anyone else smell piss when Lorenzo walked off, or was that just the stench of fragile ego?"

Heaven let out an exasperated breath and facepalmed. "Sometimes, I swear it feels like you're the youngest instead of me."

Marcus didn't skip a beat. "Bro. Read the room," he muttered, side-eyeing Dante with the dryest look possible. "Jeez."

"What?!" Dante threw his hands up innocently. "We just crushed a man's soul in front of seventy billionaires, two K-pop royalty families, and at least one ex-prime minister. I'm just trying to lighten the mood."

Andre chuckled, low and subtle, and Heaven finally let a real laugh escape her lips, rolling her eyes. "And this is why we don't let you handle diplomacy."

Marcus smirked. "This is why he shouldn't be allowed to do anything with words. At all."

"Excuse me," Dante gasped, placing a hand on his chest dramatically. "My words are powerful. I'm a poet of pain."

Heaven gave him a look.

"Fine," he relented with a cocky shrug. "A loud, chaotic, sexy poet of pain."

The siblings laughed again, a sound warm and rare that cut through the stiffness of the room like sunlight through storm clouds.

But beneath the warmth, they were watchful. The bond between them unshakable. As the crowd tried—and failed—to go back to normal chatter, the Valentinos simply... existed in their own sphere.

Andre leaned in, his sharp features softening as his gaze settled on her.

“How are the boys?”

She smiled, light and easy. “They’re doing great. Surprisingly drama-free lately.”

The question hit harder than it should’ve.

Heat flared at the base of her neck, memories flooding back—taut muscles, biting tension, lips too close.

She nearly flinched. Almost.

But she caught herself just in time, smoothing out her expression like it hadn’t wavered at all.

Which, obviously, meant she was lying.

Marcus cocked a brow. “Which means you’re leaving out the drama.”

Heaven giggled, a little too high-pitched. “Maybe. Just training and learning. You know... the usual.”

Dante perked up from where he’d been absently sipping his drink. “Are the younger three still calling you noona even though they’re technically older?”

“Yup,” she said with a grin. “Though Jimin and Taehyung still slip sometimes and call me noona, Jungkook’s started using my name instead lately, which is... weird.” She pouted. “I kinda miss it.”

Andre chuckled, deep and knowing. “Look who wants to grow up fast.”

Heaven rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, and I forgot to mention, I reunited them with Soojeon.”

That stopped Marcus cold. He turned toward her, all teasing gone from his face. “Wait. Soojeon? As in... the one Uncle took in?”

“The wolf hybrid?” Dante added, brows lifting.

Heaven nodded, a little smirk tugging at her lips. “The very same. It was... emotional. But good.”

Andre leaned back, exhaling slowly, his expression unreadable. “That’s huge, H. I’m glad.”

“You’ve always had a talent for mending what’s broken,” Marcus murmured, voice softer now. “Even when you’re the one hurting.”

Just siblings.

For a beat, it was just them.

No tension. No audience. No mission.

Laughing quietly, sharing glances and secrets like they always do when they are together.

But peace didn’t last long.

It never did.

Because they hadn’t come here just to catch up.

They hadn’t dressed to impress just for the hell of it.

Heaven turned slightly, her eyes scanning the glittering crowd. "Now... speaking of broken things."

There was still a mission.

And it was waiting for them just beyond the velvet ropes and champagne smiles.

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "Park Jisoo."

"Oh, don't pretend like you forgot," Heaven teased, lips quirking. "She's always had the weirdest obsession with you. Back in the day, she used to follow you around like a cursed ghost bride."

Marcus's nose wrinkled. "She's a crazy, unhinged bitch. I still wake up sometimes with phantom texts from her in my nightmares."

"Yeah, but," Dante added, wiggling his brows, "you're also a sick motherfucker. Sooo..."

Heaven snorted. "Honestly, if anyone's going to infiltrate that twisted little kingdom of hers, it's going to be the guy she wants to chain in her basement."

Marcus rolled his eyes but smirked. "If we're playing that card, I'll need protection."

"You'll have me," Dante said with a mock-serious tone. "But only if you swear not to let her drug you and turn you into her breeding pet."

Andre sighed, muttering, "God help us."

Just then, Heaven's phone buzzed. She slid it from her clutch with a casual grace and glanced at the screen.

The humor drained from Heaven's face like someone had flicked a switch.

Jay (Assistant):

Park Jisoo has arrived. Top floor. Wearing silver. Security confirms she's headed to the terrace.

She looked up, eyes sharp as a blade's edge, and gave a small nod to her brothers.

They noticed it immediately.

And just like that, the shift was palpable.

Dante's easy grin vanished. His eyes turned cold. Marcus stood straighter, shoulders tightening. Andre adjusted his jacket like a general preparing for war.

Their playful, warm sibling glow was gone. What remained were assassins in designer clothing—sharp, elegant, ruthless.

Heaven's voice was calm, but it had a new layer beneath it: steel.

"She's here," she murmured. "Time to begin."

And the Valentinos, one by one, followed her lead into the lion's den—no longer just the family that people stared at, but the storm that no one saw coming.

Author’s Note

Okay babes 😌 this chapter? A whole damn Oscar-worthy epic. Heaven didn’t just attend that gala—she owned it, silenced it, devoured it, and left it in ruins without saying a single damn word 😤✨. The paparazzi were malfunctioning, the rich were whispering, and the haters? Seething. And of course, because the plot demands drama—some rando had to act brave. Like sweetie… do you know who she is?? She responded with the grace of a queen and the vibe of a feral goddess. As she should.

THEN THE BROTHERS WALKED IN 😭🔥

Andre. Marcus. Dante.

The Valentino Trifecta™.

Armed with cheekbones, trauma, and perfectly tailored suits. They came in like the final boss level of a K-drama. Ride or die for Heaven? Absolutely. Will they still fight like grade schoolers over who called shotgun first? Also yes. Protect them at all costs. But like… also be a little scared 👀

Now lets address the elephant in the room…

OH AND YES, THE KISS HAPPENED.

Bitch I levitated. Heaven and the boys? That tension was THICC. The way he looked at her?? My toes curled. My soul left my body. I had to go walk around the room like someone just slapped me with a romance novel.

me: the slow burn is eating me alive

also me: drop the smut and run

still me: BUT I NEED CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT FIRST 😩

my outline: make them suffer for 10 more chapters

Also—CAN WE TALK ABOUT SOOJEON??? Heaven finally reunited with him and I swear I saw stars. Actual found family goosebumps. My heart is tap-dancing in the corner.

Jungkook: “You’re literally teasing everyone. Let us breathe.”

me: “GET OUT OF MY BRAIN.”

Jungkook: “You put me here. I’m the chaos in your Google Docs.”

Yoongi: “Author-nim. We want hands on walls. Eyes locked. Lips trembling. Deliver.”

me: “Yoongi I swear I was JUST getting there 😭”

Yoongi: “You’ve been getting there for 30k words.”

Namjoon: “Statistically, the tension is working, but emotionally, I’m spiraling.”

me: “Namjoon please 😩”

Hobi: dancing in glitter “Okay but imagine a flashback kiss that wasn’t real but it felt real. I’m just here to stir the pot 💃✨”

me: “I CAN’T BREATHE Y’ALL STOP—”

Jimin: pops in with a smirk and zero chill “Okay but like... when’s MY scene? I’ve been waiting to ruin lives with one wink and a well-timed smirk.”

me: “Jimin don’t you DARE—”

Jimin: “Too late. I already made eye contact with her in the next chapter. It’s over for everyone.”

Taehyung: “Author-nim, next chapter, can I have a huge D—”

Everyone: “TAEHYUNG SHUT THE HELL UP.”

Taehyung: “This is censorship and I will not stand for it 🙄”

Jimin: “Let him say it. I’m just here to break hearts and whisper things no one’s ready for.”

me: crying and typing “This is a hostage situation.”

And now that Park Jisoo has entered the chessboard like the villainous snack she is?

Game. Fucking. On. 😈

oh and before i forget, its exam season so my updates will be on hold for a while, I had to give you guys an extra long update to make up for my late updates and me going for a while, uWu. I will miss you all :(

See you in the next chapter, my beloved chaos gremlins 💋

Your over-caffeinated, tension-addicted, softcore menace of an Author-nim ☀️

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004 , @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud, @nikkiordonez12, @taekritimin123, @mnguyeeen7, @danielle143, @welcometomyworld13, @avadakadabra93, @kiaralynn3838, @sugathy, @anaspectoflife, @juju-227592, @mygagustd93

#my writing #writeblr #bts fic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin #mention of abuse #dark content #fluff #suggestive

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lynnettys-world · 5 months ago

Text

CALM AFTER THE STORM |BTS OT7 X READER| HYBRID AU (M)

{Chapter Fifteen - Something's Happening }

Pairing: OT7 BTS!HYBRID X FEM!HUMAN READER

Kim Namjoon: Black Mackenzie Valley Alpha wolf

Kim Soekjin: White Alpha Lion

Min Yoongi: White Alpha Jaguar

Jung Hosoek: Alpha Snow Leopard

Park Jimin : Alpha Albino Cobra

Kim Taehyung: Alpha White/ Bleached Tiger

Jeon Jungkook: Alpha Black Panther

Reader: Heaven Valentino Human

Status: Ongoing

RATED (M) FOR MATURE

words: 4.4K!

WARNING: EVENTUAL SMUT, BLOOD GORE, DETAILED GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION, ABUSE (ALL FORMS), PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, CHARACTER DEATH(MINOR), SADOMASOCHISM ACTS, MENTIONS OF BDSM, ETC...

CHAPTER WARNING: This chapter includes mentions of rape, abuse, depression and bloodlust please read with caution. (TRIGGERING CONTENT)

Previous Next

MATERIALIST

Heaven's POV

For the past two weeks, I’ve been consumed by one thing—revenge. Every waking moment has been spent planning, strategizing, making sure every single person involved in my boys' kidnapping pays in ways they never thought possible. I can still see them that night, battered, broken, their eyes clouded with pain. The state I had found them in had left me horrified—no, traumatized.

That memory has been eating me alive. It latches onto me in the quiet moments, dragging me down until sleep becomes impossible. The exhaustion is suffocating, but no matter how heavy it gets, I refuse to let it show. I can feel myself slipping, inching closer to a darkness I might not be able to crawl out of, but I fight it—especially when I’m around them.

I never told the boys what I was going through, and for two reasons. One—because they’ve already suffered enough. The last thing I want is for them to worry about me. And two—because I made sure they couldn’t sense it. I’ve been using anti-depression and anxiety scent blockers, masking my emotions so they won’t pick up on what’s really going on inside me. It worked for a while.

But I should’ve known better.

They may not say anything, but I can see it—the way their eyes linger on me a little longer, the way their expressions soften when they think I’m not looking. They’ve noticed how restless I’ve become, how exhaustion clings to me like a second skin. Whenever they ask, I give them the same excuse. Just tired from work.

They never push. They never call me out. But their silence speaks louder than words.

And somehow, that makes it hurt even more.

Because no matter how hard I try to hide, I know deep down—they see me.

Tonight felt heavier than usual, the silence pressing in from all sides. I could hear the faint hum of the streetlights outside, the occasional rustle of the wind against the windows, but the house was still, the boys deep in their respective worlds of sleep and dreams. But not me. I lay awake, my mind far from restful, tangled in thoughts I couldn't shake.

I had grown used to nights like this, the kind where sleep wouldn't come because the weight of decisions was too much to ignore. My fingers traced the cool edge of the coffee table, each movement sending a chill through my fingertips. The conversation with Jay played on repeat in my head, each word from him sinking deeper into my chest. Park Jisoo. I didn't need to know her personally to understand the danger she posed.

She was everything I hated, arrogant, entitled, and completely unaware of the rules of this world. But I would make sure she learned them fast.

A soft knock at the door cut through my thoughts, a subtle sound, but it felt as loud as thunder in the quiet room. I didn't need to check the clock to know who it was. Namjoon. The only one who would ever venture outside the shared space this late. I had sensed his presence by my door for a while now, and when the knock came, it was gentle but purposeful.

"Come in," I called, my voice calm but carrying an edge, a quiet darkness that only he would hear.

The door creaked open, and there he stood. Namjoon. Tall, broad shouldered, his presence commanding even in the dim hallway light. His face was unreadable, but I knew him well enough to see the flicker of concern in his eyes.

"You're still awake," he said, his voice low, rough with sleep.

I nodded, not bothering to pretend otherwise. "I've got things on my mind."

"Figured," he replied, stepping into the room and closing the door softly behind him. "I know you, Heaven. And I know something's brewing."

I met his gaze, my lips pressing into a tight line. I hadn't planned on talking to anyone about it-not yet. But Namjoon had a way of making everything impossible to keep buried, especially when it came to the people we loved.

"Don't worry about it, Namjoon," I said, keeping my voice steady, even though a quiet fury burned beneath the surface. "I'll handle it."

He furrowed his brows, stepping closer. "You can't just go after this alone. You know what's at stake. This isn't just about you anymore, it's about all of us."

His words hit harder than I expected. The weight of his concern sank in. I hadn't planned on involving the boys, dragging them into this storm I was about to unleash. But the truth was, it wasn't just about me anymore. My decision would affect everyone around me, whether I liked it or not.

"I'm not doing this for me," I whispered, my voice low, steady. "I'm doing it for all of us. For you. For them. I'm not letting anyone touch what's ours."

Namjoon studied me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. And then, as if he saw something I wasn't saying out loud, he nodded. Understanding flashed in his eyes. "We're with you. You don't have to carry this alone."

His loyalty was both a comfort and a burden. I wanted to protect them, keep them all safe from everything that was coming. But I knew it wasn't that simple. Some battles weren't meant to be shared.

"I know," I said softly, my eyes locked on his, willing him to understand. "But some battles... need to be fought alone."

Namjoon nodded solemnly, his gaze softening. "Just don't forget that we're right here with you. When you need us, we'll be there."

I watched him leave, the door clicking shut behind him. My thoughts swirled once more, the weight of what was coming pressing down on me. A darkness was rising inside me, but I would see this through. The game had started, and I would do whatever it took to protect the family I'd built.

The storm was coming and Heaven Valentino was ready.

Author's POV

The morning light slanted through the blinds, spilling golden ribbons across the room, soft yet unforgiving. The house was wrapped in silence, but it wasn’t the peaceful kind—it was the kind that thrummed with something unseen, something waiting. An unspoken energy curled around the walls, seeping into the very air. Heaven moved through the space with effortless grace, her every step measured, deliberate. She was the eye of the storm, steady and composed, yet surrounded by an invisible force pressing in from all sides.

The boys were scattered, each lost in their own world, but the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to ignore. A tension woven so tightly between them that it might snap at the slightest touch. It was Jin who sensed it first. Seated at the kitchen counter, he cradled a mug between his hands, fingers tapping an absent rhythm against the ceramic. His gaze was distant, unfocused—not lost in thought, but tethered to something beyond the walls of this house. When his eyes flickered to Heaven’s, it was fleeting, almost unintentional. Almost. But Heaven wasn’t fooled. Jin had a way of commanding attention without a single word, and right now, it was clear—he was waiting. For what, she wasn’t sure.

The others carried the same quiet intensity. Taehyung sat hunched over the dining table, his pencil scratching against the pages of a notebook, jaw tight, eyes shadowed. Whatever he was writing, it wasn’t aimless. It had purpose. Hobi lingered in the doorway, arms folded, his usual warmth subdued by something heavier. He wasn’t just observing—he was assessing, reading the room, calculating.

No one spoke of it, yet they all felt it. A tension stretched thin, moments from snapping. The world itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

Waiting for Heaven to make the first move.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to make that move yet. But readiness didn’t matter anymore—choice had long since been stripped from her hands. The weight of it all pressed against her, a relentless tide of questions, plans, and uncertainties swirling in her mind. She had tried, again and again, to shield them from it, to carry the burden alone. But she wasn’t naive. The boys saw through her silence, through the carefully crafted calm she wore like armor.

"You good, baby?"

Jimin’s voice cut through the storm in her head, grounding her. His gaze was steady, warm, filled with an understanding that made her want to crumble and seek refuge in the space he always left open for her. Despite the strength he carried, the power in his presence, there was a tenderness to him when it came to her—a gentleness that both soothed and unraveled her all at once.

She forced a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, just… tired.”

Tired was an understatement. Exhaustion clung to her bones, but it wasn’t just physical. It was the kind that settled deep, the kind that sleep couldn’t fix.

“You need anything? A coffee?” Yoongi’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath the surface. This wasn’t a casual offer—it was his way of saying, I see you struggling. Of telling her, without saying it outright, that she didn’t have to hold everything alone.

She exhaled quietly, steadying herself. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

It was a lie. She wasn’t good—not even close. But they didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

The door to the living room opened and closed with a quiet finality, followed by the steady rhythm of approaching footsteps. Jungkook had finally emerged from his self-imposed solitude.

The moment his eyes locked onto Heaven, the air in the room shifted. There was something different about him today—something heavier, darker. Gone was the teasing glint in his gaze, the playful smirk that always accompanied his presence. He thrived on being babied by Heaven, always the one to lighten the mood with his easygoing charm. But now? Now, he looked at her like she was something to be unraveled.

A quiet tension rippled through the room. Everyone felt it. The confusion was thick in the air, but Jungkook paid it no mind. He had tunnel vision, his attention honed in on one thing. Her.

“Morning.” His voice was low, gravelly, rougher than anyone was used to.

Heaven swallowed, willing herself to match his energy. “Morning.” She kept her tone light, casual—but the way her pulse quickened beneath his unwavering stare betrayed her.

Jungkook stepped into the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside her. Close. Too close. But not touching. The space between them crackled with something unspoken, something she couldn’t quite place. And yet, she felt it settle deep in her bones.

He didn’t spare the others a glance. His focus was solely on her.

“You look like shit, baby.”

The words weren’t teasing. They weren’t said with the usual mischievous grin or playful lilt. They were blunt, edged with something sharp—something that made Heaven’s breath hitch for just a second. His gaze dragged over her face, studying, dissecting, waiting.

A collective gasp echoed through the room. The boys weren’t used to hearing Jungkook speak like that—especially not to her. Jimin instinctively moved, ready to intervene, but Namjoon’s hand shot out, halting him with a subtle shake of his head. He knew better. He could sense it—whatever was brewing inside Jungkook wasn’t to be meddled with. Not yet.

Heaven forced a nervous laugh, trying to dispel the weight of the moment. “Thanks, Kookie. Real nice.”

But Jungkook didn’t laugh.

His jaw tensed, the muscle in his cheek tightening as he continued watching her, unblinking. The softness that usually lived in his eyes had been replaced by something icier, something unreadable.

"You sure you're okay?"

The question was quiet. Too quiet. Too careful. But Heaven heard it for what it really was.

It wasn’t concern.

It was a demand.

For a moment, Heaven hesitated. The shift in Jungkook’s presence was undeniable, pressing against her like a weight she couldn’t quite shake. It unsettled her—the way his eyes held a darkness she wasn’t used to, the way his mere presence seemed to draw the air from her lungs.

Jungkook had always been the playful one, the baby of the group, the one who thrived on affection and attention. But standing before her now, there was something else lurking beneath the surface—something sharp, something dangerous. A flicker of unspoken intensity burned in his gaze, and it caught her completely off guard.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “I’m fine,” she said again, but even she could hear the wavering in her voice. It wasn’t convincing. Not this time.

Jungkook’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, though it held none of his usual mischief. His gaze never wavered, locking onto her like a predator sizing up its prey. “You don’t look fine, Heaven.”

He leaned in slightly, his body just barely brushing against hers, close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him. The proximity sent a shiver down her spine, and she hated that he noticed.

“But I guess you’ll tell me when you’re ready to talk, won’t you?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a quiet command, an assertion that sent something twisting deep in her stomach.

The others watched the exchange in silence, the tension in the room thick and unspoken. Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged glances, murmuring something to each other, but their eyes never left the scene unfolding before them.

Heaven, however, was too caught up in Jungkook’s presence—too aware of how his body hovered just a fraction too close, of the way his darkened gaze traced her movements with unnerving precision.

She shifted slightly, trying to shake the weight of his intensity. “I’ll be fine, Kookie. It was just a long night,” she said, forcing steadiness into her tone.

But the slight tremble in her voice betrayed her. And Jungkook caught it.

He didn’t move away. Didn’t give her the space she silently begged for. Instead, his hand brushed against her arm—not quite a touch, but deliberate enough to make her breath hitch. The contact lingered, seeping into her skin, making her stomach twist with something unfamiliar.

His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Don’t try to hide it from me.” His tone sent a slow, deliberate chill through her. “I know you, Heaven. And I know when something’s wrong. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

There was something in the way he said it—something possessive. Something primal.

It wasn’t just concern. It was a warning. A promise.

Heaven met his gaze, and for a split second, the world around them faded. There, in his eyes, was something she had never seen before—not from him. It was raw, unreadable, and just beneath it, a storm brewing.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to understand it. Not yet.

“…Okay,” she murmured, feeling the weight of his words settle in her chest. “I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

Jungkook studied her for a beat, his gaze searching, his grip on her arm tightening just slightly before he finally released her.

But even as he stepped back, his eyes never strayed.

“I’m not going anywhere, Heaven,” he said, and there was something in his tone—something unwavering, something absolute—that sent another shiver through her.

The moment stretched between them, lingering even as he moved away. The air felt lighter in his absence, but Heaven’s pulse still raced in the aftermath of what had just happened.

Something was changing. Something had changed.

And when it finally came crashing down, one thing was clear—she wouldn’t be facing it alone.

But whether that was a comfort or a curse…

She still didn’t know.

Yoongi’s POV

After that exchange with Jungkook, Heaven left for the office, leaving a strange kind of silence in the room. Namjoon called for a meeting before we were supposed to head to training, but I could feel it even before he said anything—an electric tension that hung thick in the air like a storm cloud just waiting to burst.

Everyone could feel it, the subtle shift that had happened with Heaven, but there was something else in the room. A deep, unsettling undercurrent that none of us could shake off. Whatever was about to be said, I knew it would be an eye-opener—not just for the others, but for me too. And that made my pulse hitch slightly, like I already knew the direction we were heading, but couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

"Listen up, guys," Namjoon’s voice cut through the murmur of tension, his tone serious, commanding, as it always was in moments like these. "I know you all can feel it. What’s going on with Heaven. And I also know that since that night—the night she saved us from that man whose name shall not be mentioned—something inside of us has shifted. And I think it’s time we address it.”

I nodded, though there wasn’t really any need for it. We all knew. We all felt it. That night—the night we’d been held captive, broken, pushed to the brink of something primal—it had changed all of us in ways we couldn’t fully explain. The guards had provoked us, pushed us past our limits. And when we finally broke free, something inside of us snapped.

It was like a switch had been flipped, and suddenly, we weren’t the same. The bloodlust that had consumed us was terrifying. It was raw, untamed, as if every ounce of our sanity had been torn away and replaced with something darker. Something feral. All we could see was red—raging, uncontrolled fury. All we could think about was two things: protecting what was ours, and spilling blood.

The aftermath had left us confused. And terrified.

But we never spoke of it. Never. We buried it deep inside, pretending like it didn’t exist, that it wasn’t there, festering in the corners of our minds. But lately, since we’d reconnected with that animal side of ourselves… we hadn’t been the same. There were moments when we’d slip, moments when we could feel that darkness clawing at us from the inside.

Namjoon’s voice cut through the tension again, and I snapped out of my thoughts, eyes fixed on him.

"I can definitely feel it too," Jin spoke up, his voice low, but steady. "Stronger, bolder, more powerful. Protective. And... bloodthirsty. I’ve never felt this urge to spill blood like I do now. It’s unsettling."

We all agreed. There was no denying it. We could feel it too. It was like something inside of us had woken up—or maybe, something had always been there, just waiting for the right trigger. But what really scared us was the fact that we didn’t know how to control it.

"It’s terrifying and confusing," Hobi added, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth. "I’m not sure what to make of it, and honestly, I don’t think any of us are."

Namjoon nodded, his face unreadable, eyes scanning each of us as if weighing our reactions.

"I want to chalk it up to the training, to everything we’ve been through," he said, his tone thoughtful, almost distant. "But I know that’s not all of it. It’s only a small part of why we’re feeling this way. There’s more to it—something we’re all missing."

I could feel my jaw tighten. It wasn’t just the training. It wasn’t just the physical strain we’d endured, or the stress of what we’d been through in the past. This was something deeper. Something darker. A shift within ourselves that none of us had fully come to terms with yet.

"I don’t like it," Jimin spoke up, his voice quiet, but cutting through the silence like a knife. "There's something inside us that we can’t control. And that scares the hell out of me."

His words hung in the air, an unspoken truth none of us could ignore.

This wasn’t just a passing feeling. This wasn’t a temporary side effect. It was something deeper here, something we were all connected to—and whatever it was, it was starting to take hold of us.

And we had no idea how to stop it.

I shifted my gaze across the room, my eyes naturally landing on Jungkook.

Jungkook, despite being a predator hybrid, has always carried a tenderness in his heart that no one else in our group could ever truly understand. Unlike the rest of us, he had known warmth, affection, and the comfort of a family — at least, until he was 12. That was when his entire world was ripped apart, when his parents were taken from him in a way none of us could imagine.

For a long time, he had lived a life of luxury, protected by the cocoon of his pampered upbringing. But that innocence didn’t last. When he was thrust into the cruel world beyond his sheltered existence — raped, abused, sold and stripped off his dignity— left to fend for himself, and the world, especially for a hybrid like him, is anything but forgiving. He hadn’t learned to defend himself in the way we had. He didn’t understand the darkness people were capable of, the malicious cruelty that comes from those who see hybrids as nothing more than objects to exploit. He didn’t know how to fight, and it was used against him at every turn. He became prey in a world where survival depended on being a predator.

I first met Jungkook in the darkest of places — an alley, where I was trying to hide from the ever-watchful eyes of Hybrid Patrol. At first, I hated him. He was weak, soft, and couldn’t defend himself. He followed me everywhere like a lost puppy, and it grated on my nerves. But everything changed when a group of rogue hybrids attacked him. I’ll never forget the helpless look in his eyes as they tore into him, and something inside me snapped. From that moment on, I vowed I would protect him with my life, no matter what.

When they finally caught us, they couldn’t tear us apart. Not because they didn’t try, but because they knew I would never give up on him. I would fight to the death before letting anyone harm him. That’s how we ended up with the rest of our group. We were all different species, all from varying alpha predator bloodlines, but we formed a bond, an unbreakable connection, born from shared pain, and that primal need to protect what was ours. Jungkook, being the youngest among us, became the center of our world, and we all took turns watching over him, ensuring no harm came his way.

Over the years, we did everything in our power to shield him from the filth of the human world, the depraved fantasies they couldn’t seem to keep to themselves. He didn’t deserve that darkness; he deserved the chance to heal, to live in peace, even if just for a little while.

But now… now, there’s something off about him. A side of him I’ve never seen before. It’s unsettling, and I can’t shake the feeling that whatever it is, it’s something far worse than anything we’ve faced before.

Namjoon’s voice broke through my thoughts, clear and commanding. “We need to figure out what’s going on with Heaven first, and once we know the truth, we can deal with what’s happening with us. But remember, Heaven cannot find out about any of this. Not yet. Not until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.” His tone was final, absolute. We all nodded in agreement, and the meeting ended.

Training was next on the agenda, but the unease that lingered in my chest was hard to ignore.

The days ahead would be full of unknowns, and deep down, I knew things were about to get far messier than any of us had anticipated. We’d bargained for more than we had ever hoped for — and I wasn’t sure any of us were truly ready for what was coming next.

Author's POV

Later that day, the boys had just wrapped up their grueling training session, the air thick with sweat and the lingering adrenaline that only the most intense physical exertion could bring. They were heading towards their rooms to freshen up when something changed — an unsettling shift in the atmosphere. The scent of the house, usually familiar and comforting, now carried a foreign note. It was faint, but enough to make the hairs on the back of their necks stand up. They could feel it — something was off.

“Can you all feel that? Smell that?” Taehyung’s voice cut through the tension, his brow furrowed in confusion, his heightened senses already trying to make sense of the shift in the air. The others nodded in unison, a sense of unease creeping over them as their instincts went into overdrive.

They moved cautiously, their footsteps soft yet purposeful, as they approached the living area. The closer they got, the more they could sense it — the source of the disturbance. There, sitting on the sofa as if he belonged, was an unknown man. His presence sent an immediate wave of alarm through their bodies, but it wasn’t just fear. No, there was something deeper, something primal. A sense of possessiveness washed over them all, as if the very idea of someone unfamiliar sitting so comfortably in their space triggered an instinct they couldn’t quite suppress.

Their collective gaze fixed on him, and in an instant, every muscle in their bodies tensed, ready for a fight, yet equally confused. They couldn’t help but feel... territorial. Protective. And then it clicked — not only was this man a stranger, but he was also a hybrid. Their minds raced, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Namjoon, ever the leader, was the first to break the silence. His voice, commanding and firm, rang out with authority, a deep rumble that echoed through the room. “Who are you?” he demanded, his gaze sharp, his posture rigid, exuding dominance.

The man, who had seemed completely oblivious to their presence until now, finally turned his head toward them. His expression shifted from calm to wide-eyed realization. Before any of them could react, he sprang to his feet, a grin spreading across his face as his excitement filled the room.

“Finally, I’ve found you guys!” he exclaimed, his voice full of relief and joy, as though he had been on a long journey and had just reached the end of it. His words hung in the air, thick with the promise of something… unexpected.

Hey there, my loves! 💕

First off, I wanna say a huge sorry for the long wait. These past few months? Ugh, I’ve been feeling so off. 😔 Haven’t really felt like myself, and it’s been hard to get any writing done. So yeah, I know, super late updates and not the best communication, but I swear, I’m trying my best! I can't promise constant updates, but I do promise to give you all something as often as I can. 💪

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, though! I decided to throw in a little background on how some of the boys came together (mostly Jungkook, of course 😉). But trust me, the rest of their stories will unfold soon enough in the upcoming chapters. So, stick around, things are gonna get even more intense. 🔥

Thanks so much for your endless support. Seriously, it means the world to me. You all keep me going. 🙏

Hope you have a beautiful day and night!

Sending you all my love 💖

Your very apologetic author, always trying to keep you hooked 😊

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @strxwbloody, @strawblueberrys, @taetaeheart22, @canarystwin, @drenix004 , @ghostlyworld, @loumin908, @rinkud, @nikkiordonez12, @taekritimin123, @mnguyeeen7, @danielle143, @welcometomyworld13, @avadakadabra93, @kiaralynn3838, @sugathy, @anaspectoflife, @juju-227592, @mygagustd93

#my writing #writeblr #bts fic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin #mention of blood #mention of abuse #triggering content #dark content #mention of depression

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lynnettys-world · 8 months ago

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My Beloved Idol || Taehyung X reader (ft Jimin X reader) || Fanfiction

[Chapter Five – Outburst]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (ft jimin x reader)

16+

Warning: Angst, cursing, mild/light smut, accusations, hate, constant POV change.

Words: 2.6k!

Summary: When an enthusiastic international fan named Lia sets off on an exhilarating journey with her friends to Korea, she has no idea that this trip will alter her life forever.

Unexpectedly, the group bumps into BTS, the sensational boy band dominating the music scene. Lia's heart races as she meets her idols, especially Taehyung, her bias.

However, this dream encounter quickly turns into a nightmare when Taehyung accuses Lia of being a sasaeng fan.

Feeling wrongfully accused and heartbroken, Lia is forced to accept her fate, no matter how unjust it seems.

Adding to the chaos, their parents drop a bombshell by announcing an arranged marriage between Lia and Taehyung.

The once joyous sparkle in Lia's eyes fades as she realizes she is now bound to someone who views her as a threat.

As the days go by, Taehyung's behavior reveals a cruel side Lia never anticipated.

Despite Lia's innocence and genuine intentions, Taehyung's harsh words and actions cut deep, leaving her shattered but determined to endure in a chilling silence as a side of her starts to reveal itself.

Despite the challenges and pain ahead, Lia's journey is a testament to the strength of love and the courage to endure even the cruelest trials. As she navigates the treacherous path laid out before her, Lia's unwavering strength and tolerance becomes a source of hope and resilience. In the stormy clouds of her arranged marriage will everything be sorted or will the unexpected happen...

Read to find out more.

《Series Materialist》《Content》

《Previous》《Next》

Lia's POV

The air felt electric as we made our way backstage, a whirlwind of emotions surging through me—excitement, anxiety, and an undeniable sense of dread. The mere thought of coming face-to-face with BTS, especially Taehyung, was enough to send my heart into overdrive. I couldn't shake the feeling that he harbored some kind of grudge against me. Was it all in my head, or was there really an unresolved tension lingering between us? Either way, my stomach churned at the prospect of finding out.

The journey down the hall felt both fleeting and endless, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting as we followed the security guard's lead. The faint hum of activity around us—staff members chatting, doors clicking open and shut—only heightened my nerves. I caught a glimpse of the sign on the door we were approaching: 'BTS MAKEUP ROOM.' My breath hitched. This was it.

My palms grew clammy, and my pulse roared in my ears. Stepping into their private space felt impossibly surreal, as if I were trespassing into a dream I wasn't quite sure I was allowed to have. The guard motioned for us to wait a moment before stepping aside, leaving me standing there, frozen in place.

"Come on, Lia," Isabella nudged me gently but firmly, her voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts. "You've got this. Just open the door."

Easy for her to say. With trembling hands, I reached for the handle, its cool metal grounding me for a fleeting moment. My mind raced with every possible scenario—Taehyung glaring at me, the others ignoring my presence, or, worst of all, complete indifference.

The door clicked as I pushed it open, and for a brief second, the world seemed to hold its breath. The anticipation was suffocating, every muscle in my body tense as I stepped over the threshold, bracing myself for whatever awaited me on the other side.

Taehyung's POV

Backstage was always a haven after the chaos of a fan meet, a place where we could strip off the layers of glamour and expectation. For me, the ritual of removing my makeup and slipping into cozy clothes was like peeling off the weight of the day—a small but significant joy.

The room buzzed softly with the familiar sounds of my bandmates unwinding: the shuffle of clothes, soft laughter, and the occasional thud of a bag hitting the floor. Despite the exhaustion that clung to all of us, there was something undeniably satisfying about interacting with ARMY, even if it left us drained. Their energy fueled us, even as it sometimes left me yearning for quiet moments like these.

I was lost in thought, the hum of the room lulling me into a state of relaxation, when Jin hyung's voice cut through. "Tae, could you grab me some water?" he asked, his tone polite but edged with weariness.

I groaned, leaning back in my chair with exaggerated reluctance. "Hyung, why me? You could send Jungkook," I quipped, shooting a glance at the youngest member, who seemed utterly engrossed in whatever was happening on his phone screen.

Jungkook didn't even bother to look up. "Ani, hyung specifically asked for you," he said nonchalantly, flicking his fingers toward the kitchen area. "Besides, I'm busy." His voice was casual, but his smirk didn't go unnoticed.

"Lazy maknae," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I pushed myself up from the comfortable seat. My complaints were playful, but deep down, I knew I'd do it without much of a fight. Jin hyung rarely asked for favors like this, and honestly, the idea of stretching my legs wasn't the worst thing.

Grumbling under my breath, I swung open the door with little thought, my mind still half-focused on teasing Jungkook later. But the moment my eyes landed on the figure standing in the hallway, all semblance of composure evaporated.

There, right in front of me, was the last person I ever expected to see. My eyes widened, disbelief crashing over me like a tidal wave. It wasn't just anyone—it was her. The one person I had mentally sworn I'd never deal with again.

That crazy stalker fan.

Time seemed to slow as my gaze locked onto hers. Her expression was a cocktail of nerves and determination, but all I could feel was a strange mix of anger and confusion. What was she doing here? And more importantly, why now?

I stood frozen in the doorway, the words caught in my throat as I tried to make sense of the surreal moment unfolding before me.

3rd Person POV

The hallway was cloaked in an awkward tension as Lia and Taehyung stood frozen, their gazes locked in a silence that neither of them seemed capable of breaking. The moment stretched on, heavy with unresolved emotions and unspoken words, both caught in the weight of what had transpired between them.

Taehyung's dark, piercing eyes were filled with a mixture of disbelief and cold disappointment as they bore into Lia. His thoughts churned, a storm of unresolved bitterness swirling as the word "stalker" blazed like a neon sign in his mind. It was a label he hated to apply, but in his eyes, her previous actions left little room for anything else. The memory of her in a place she had no business being replayed in his mind, an unwelcome reminder of what he considered an unforgivable overstep.

On the other hand, Lia felt her chest constrict as her anxiety rose like an unstoppable tide. She risked a brief glance at Taehyung, only to be met with a look so cold and contemptuous that it made her stomach drop. This wasn't how she had imagined meeting him—not with his disdain cutting through her like shards of glass. To see her longtime idol, someone she had admired for years, view her as nothing more than an obsessive fan—a sasaeng—was both surreal and soul-crushing.

She wanted to speak, to defend herself, to explain how everything was a misunderstanding, but the words lodged in her throat like an immovable block. Her attempts at justification during their previous encounter had fallen on deaf ears, his warning to stay away ringing loud and clear. That rejection had been like a slap across the face, but what stung even more was knowing how deeply he misunderstood her. The ache in her chest was not just from his anger, but from the realization that broken trust was far harder to mend than it was to shatter.

The uncomfortable silence between them was abruptly broken by a cheerful voice. "Hey, Isabella and friends, please come in!" Jin's voice carried down the hallway, slicing through the tension like a lifeline.

Lia forced a weak smile, her lips trembling as she followed the others towards the door. But before she could step inside, a firm hand closed around her wrist, halting her in her tracks. She turned to find Taehyung gripping her arm with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Jin, I think I'll take my fan to grab us some water," Taehyung said, his voice laced with a forced cheerfulness that did nothing to mask the hard edge beneath it. The way he emphasized "my fan" made Lia's stomach churn.

Jin didn't seem to notice the tension between them, his easy acceptance of the suggestion only adding to the surreal nature of the situation. "Sure, Tae. Bring back a couple of bottles for the rest of us too," he called over his shoulder, already distracted by the others filing into the room.

Isabella gave Lia a quick, sly smile as she passed, her mischievous smirk doing little to quell the storm of emotions brewing inside her. Lia barely had time to process the exchange before Taehyung began leading her away, his grip firm and unyielding. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as the silence between them grew heavier, the air thick with unresolved anger and tension.

Taehyung's POV

Anger coursed through me, hot and relentless, pulsing with every beat of my heart. My jaw tightened, and I gripped her wrist a little harder, my thoughts swirling into a chaotic mess of frustration. How did she manage to get here? I'd been crystal clear—I didn't want to see her again. I thought I'd made that obvious the last time we spoke, yet here she was, standing in the one place I never wanted her to be.

Part of me knew I was being unfair. Maybe I should have given her the benefit of the doubt, a chance to explain herself. But every time I thought about what had happened—the image of her in our makeup room, acting as if she belonged there—I felt my temper flare all over again. It wasn't just about her actions; it was about the principle, the breach of trust, the audacity to cross boundaries that shouldn't have been crossed.

Sure, her friends seemed fine. Decent, even. If Jin hyung had welcomed them, they'd obviously passed some sort of unspoken vibe check. But Lia? She was the exception, the glaring outlier. I couldn't shake the feeling that she didn't belong here.

I ignored her murmured protests, my pace brisk as I dragged her down the hall. Her pleas to stop fell on deaf ears, each step only fueling the simmering rage inside me. Finally, I stopped and spun to face her, backing her against the cold, stark wall. My grip tightened for a moment before I released her, my hands balling into fists at my sides.

"Did I not tell you to never show your face in front of me again?!" I shouted, my voice echoing sharply through the empty corridor. My chest heaved with the force of my anger, and I could feel my pulse pounding in my temples.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over and streaking down her cheeks. She trembled as she looked up at me, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Her silent tears only enraged me further. Did she think this display of vulnerability would make me forget what she'd done? That I'd soften and let it go?

"Save the tears," I snapped, my voice low and bitter. "They're not going to work on me."

I slammed my fist into the wall beside her, the sound reverberating like a gunshot. My knuckles ached from the impact, but I didn't care. I wanted her to feel the weight of my anger, the betrayal that burned within me.

"I-I didn't follow you," she stammered, her voice shaking as she tried to form a coherent sentence. Her sobs made her words barely audible, but I caught enough to understand what she was saying.

For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt pierced through my rage. What if she wasn't lying? What if I'd misjudged her? But I quickly pushed the thought away, burying it beneath the weight of my frustration. I couldn't afford to let her off the hook—not yet.

She needed to understand. To see the consequences of her actions. And if no one else was willing to teach her that lesson, I would.

Lia's POV

My back pressed against the cold, unforgiving wall, and I could still feel the sting of his words as they echoed in my mind. My entire body was trembling, my breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face, blurring my vision, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his.

"I-I-I d-did not f-follow you," I stuttered, my voice barely audible, trembling with fear and hurt. The words felt so small compared to the weight of the accusations he'd thrown at me, but they were the only ones I could muster.

My heart ached, not just from his anger but from the overwhelming disbelief that someone I admired so deeply could treat me like this. How could he see me this way? How could he assume the worst of me without giving me the chance to explain? His gaze, once a source of comfort and admiration, now felt like a weapon cutting me down.

The humiliation, the anger, the heartbreak—it all swirled within me like a storm threatening to drown me whole. But amidst the chaos of emotions, a flicker of something else began to stir—a flame of defiance. I loved Kim Taehyung. I admired him for years, looked up to him as a source of inspiration. But that didn't mean I deserved this. My feelings, my admiration, didn't give him a free pass to trample all over me.

No more.

My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I straightened up, drawing on every ounce of courage I had left. My voice, though shaky, carried the weight of my frustration as I snapped, "ENOUGH, KIM TAEHYUNG!"

The words cut through the tension like a thunderclap. His eyes widened, the look of surprise and confusion on his face almost satisfying. I wasn't done. Not yet. The dam had broken, and I couldn't stop the flood now.

"You've already said enough to me!" I exclaimed, my voice rising with each word. "I never followed you! I wasn't lurking in some creepy way. I was looking for the bathroom! How on earth was I supposed to know you'd be there?!"

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my chest heaving with the intensity of my emotions. "You've already hurt me once, and I stayed quiet because I thought maybe—just maybe—you'd see that I wasn't what you thought I was. But this time? This time, I won't stay silent just because you're an idol."

His expression faltered slightly, as though my words were sinking in, but I was far from finished.

"You being famous, being someone I've admired for years, doesn't give you the right to treat me like I'm beneath you! I've done nothing to deserve this, and I won't let you continue to disrespect me like this for no reason."

My voice cracked at the end, but I didn't care. The weight I'd been carrying for so long was finally lifting. The silence that followed was deafening. Taehyung just stood there, his expression shifting between shock and something else—remorse, maybe? I wasn't sure, and I didn't care to find out.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. I could feel his gaze on me as I left, burning into my back, but I didn't look back. I couldn't. Not after everything that had just unfolded.

The moment I was out of his sight, my resolve crumbled like sand slipping through my fingers. The tears I'd tried to hold back came rushing out, my sobs breaking through the fragile facade I'd put up moments before. I leaned against the nearest wall, my hands covering my face as the pain and frustration poured out of me.

How had it come to this? The person who had once been my light, my source of comfort, had reduced me to this—a mess of emotions and tears in an empty hallway.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to pull myself together. My hands shook as I wiped away the streaks of tears from my cheeks. I took a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs, and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the storm within me.

I wasn't sure what I felt anymore. Sadness? Anger? Disappointment? Maybe all of it, and maybe none of it. But I knew one thing: I couldn't let this moment define me.

Steeling myself, I squared my shoulders and made my way back to the others. As I walked, I repeated one silent mantra in my head, over and over: You are stronger than this.

Hey, lovely readers!

Wow, things really took a turn, didn't they? I know the angst levels just went through the roof, but trust me, this is all part of the journey. Lia's standing up for herself, and let me tell you, that girl has some fire in her!

Now, let's address the elephant in the room—Taehyung. Yep, he's being a total A-hole right now (ugh, even I'm annoyed with him, and I'm the one writing this!). But let's not forget, this is fiction, and characters are supposed to grow and change. Real-life Taehyung is a sweetheart, and this story is not a reflection of his personality. So please, don't come for me! 😅

Stick with me, okay? Things will get better, and there's so much more to come. Thank you for reading, commenting, and sharing your thoughts—it means the world to me! Your support keeps me going, and I can't wait to take you along for the rest of this journey.

Sending virtual hugs and all the love, Your quirky Author-nim 😉

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @juju-227592

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lynnettys-world · 9 months ago

Text

My Beloved Idol || Taehyung X reader (ft Jimin X reader) || Fanfiction

[Chapter Four – Fan Meet ]

64.media.tumblr.com

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (ft jimin x reader)

16+

Warning: Angst, cursing, mild/light smut, accusations, hate, constant POV change.

Words: 2.1k!

Summary: When an enthusiastic international fan named Lia sets off on an exhilarating journey with her friends to Korea, she has no idea that this trip will alter her life forever.

Unexpectedly, the group bumps into BTS, the sensational boy band dominating the music scene. Lia's heart races as she meets her idols, especially Taehyung, her bias.

However, this dream encounter quickly turns into a nightmare when Taehyung accuses Lia of being a sasaeng fan.

Feeling wrongfully accused and heartbroken, Lia is forced to accept her fate, no matter how unjust it seems.

Adding to the chaos, their parents drop a bombshell by announcing an arranged marriage between Lia and Taehyung.

The once joyous sparkle in Lia's eyes fades as she realizes she is now bound to someone who views her as a threat.

As the days go by, Taehyung's behavior reveals a cruel side Lia never anticipated.

Read to find out more.

《Series Materialist》《Content》

《Previous》《Next》

3rd Person's POV

It was finally Lia's turn to meet BTS, and her emotions were a chaotic whirlwind of excitement and nerves.

Her friends had already met each member one by one, leaving her as the last to approach. She tried to calm herself, but the memory of her earlier awkward encounter with Taehyung lingered in the back of her mind. Would he have mentioned it to the others? The thought made her stomach twist, but she decided to shake it off and put on her best smile—the kind that hid her unease perfectly.

As she stepped forward, RM greeted her with a warm smile that radiated reassurance.

"Hey, how are you?" his deep voice wrapped around her like a comforting hug.

"I'm alright, thank you," Lia replied, her voice steady though her hands trembled slightly.

RM's dimples deepened as he smiled, his presence as calming as it was magnetic. "What's your name?"

"Lia," she answered softly.

"That's such a beautiful name," RM said without hesitation, his compliment so genuine that it caught her off guard.

Her cheeks flushed instantly. Could it be that Kim Namjoon—the brainy, poetic Namjesus—had just called her pretty?

"T-thank you," she stammered, her voice a little too high-pitched for her liking.

After he signed her album with a flourish, she exchanged goodbyes and stepped toward the next member. Jin's wide smile greeted her like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

"Hey there, beautiful ARMY!" Jin's cheerful voice boomed, his charisma impossible to ignore.

"Hi, Jin!" Lia replied, her own smile brightening in response to his infectious energy.

His eyes widened slightly as he took her in. "Your Korean is amazing! Where did you learn it?"

Lia couldn't help but chuckle. It wasn't the first time someone had assumed she wasn't Korean at all. "My mom's Korean, and my dad's Black," she explained, her voice tinged with pride. "So I grew up learning both."

"Daebak! You must be so smart," Jin exclaimed, nodding approvingly. "And so beautiful, too! Wow, your parents must be proud."

Lia's heart warmed at his kind words, and she left him with a newfound confidence as she approached Yoongi.

"Hello," Yoongi greeted her with a calm demeanor, his tone soft yet somehow commanding her full attention.

"Hey, Suga," Lia replied, her nerves bubbling up again but less overwhelming this time.

"Nice to meet you. What's your name?" Yoongi asked, leaning slightly closer to hear her over the murmurs of the room.

"My name's Lia," she said, her voice quieter than intended.

He smiled faintly, his dark eyes meeting hers. "Pretty name for a pretty girl," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a subtle teasing edge.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she fumbled for a reply but could only manage a shy smile. He handed back her signed album with a small nod, and Lia moved on, her heart racing.

Next was Hoseok, who practically bounced in place, his energy filling the room.

"I'm your hope, you're my hope, I'm Jayyyyy—" Hoseok started, his voice playful and sing-song.

"Hope!" Lia chimed in, grinning as she completed the line.

Hoseok laughed, his eyes crinkling with delight. "Omo, you're adorable! And your hair is so pretty! Can I touch it?"

Surprised but not offended, Lia nodded, giggling as Hoseok gently touched one of her curls with fascination.

"Wahhh, it's so soft," he marveled, his tone as delighted as a child's.

Lia laughed, the interaction leaving her with an even deeper appreciation for his bright, uncontainable energy.

Jimin was next, and Lia found herself holding her breath as he turned his signature dazzling smile her way.

"Hey there, cutie. What's your name?" His voice was warm and inviting, yet there was an undeniable flirtatious lilt that made her heart leap.

"M-my name's Lia," she replied, her voice catching in her throat.

"Aww, you're so cute! Can I touch your hair too?" Jimin asked, tilting his head and pouting slightly in a way that made her feel completely at ease despite her initial shyness.

"Uh, sure," she managed, her cheeks burning as he reached out to gently play with a curl.

Jimin grinned as he signed her album, and she floated to the next member in a daze, thoroughly charmed.

And then, there was Jungkook. The youngest member eyed her curiously as she approached, his intensity nearly tangible.

"Hi, Jungkook," she began, but he cut her off almost immediately.

"Wait—are you older or younger than me?" His question was blunt, but the competitive spark in his eyes made her laugh.

"I'm your noona," Lia replied with a playful wink, which caught him off guard. His ears turned pink, but he quickly masked it with a sheepish grin.

"Ah, noona," he murmured, as though trying out the word for the first time. He signed her album quickly, and after a short exchange, it was time.

Her stomach knotted as she took a deep breath and stepped forward to face the last member—the one she had been both anticipating and dreading.

Kim Taehyung

Lia's POV

Meeting the other members was like a dream come true, especially Jimin. His playful flirting left my heart fluttering, and the warmth and kindness from everyone else almost made me forget about him. Almost.

Now, as I stood in front of the man who had hurled those sharp words at me, the memory came rushing back.

What had I done to deserve that? I wasn't trying to stalk him—I was just looking for the bathroom.

I swallowed hard, forcing a weak smile to mask my nerves as I approached him.

"Uh, hey," I stammered, my voice barely audible.

To my shock, his face lit up. "Hey, you're so cute!" he said, pinching my cheeks in a way that felt far too familiar.

Heat surged to my face as I instinctively covered my cheeks with my hands. My mind was racing. What was this sudden change? Just hours ago, he wanted nothing to do with me, and now he was acting as if I was his favorite fan.

"Don't hide that pretty face," he said casually, tilting his head to study me. "You kind of have a Korean look... but with something else. That's so cool."

His words caught me off guard. "Oh, I'm actually mixed," I explained, trying to sound calm. "My mom's Korean, and my dad's Black."

"Wow," he said, his expression softening with genuine curiosity. "That explains why you're so beautiful and adorable. Maybe I should consider marrying you, we could have the cutest babies, huh? What do you think?" He ended his remark with a playful wink and a chuckle.

I froze, unsure if I should laugh or run. Was he being sincere, or was this some kind of cruel joke?

"Hehe, yeah, maybe," I replied awkwardly, my mind still grappling with the situation.

As his teasing words lingered, I found myself questioning everything. Was this just a front to look good in front of the other members? Or was he actually trying to connect with me? His compliments and playful banter felt like whiplash, leaving me flattered and confused all at once.

But then, just as I was starting to lower my guard, the illusion shattered.

The manager's voice signaled that my time was up. Relief washed over me—I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold myself together. But as I turned to leave, Taehyung suddenly pulled me into a hug.

His touch was warm, but his voice was ice.

"Don't think I've forgotten what you did," he whispered harshly in my ear, his tone low and biting. "You disgust me, and I never want to see your face again."

My body froze, his words cutting deeper than I thought possible. When he pulled away, his expression was unreadable, but that dazzling, heart-stopping smile he wore told a different story to everyone watching.

I forced a smile in return, hiding the pain clawing at my chest. My idol, the man I'd admired for years, looked at me as if I was nothing. It hurt more than I could have imagined.

As I walked off the stage, the buzzing excitement of my friends was impossible to ignore.

"Looks like someone's skipping tonight's bath after getting hugged by our resident demi-god," Shontelle teased, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

The group erupted into laughter, but I could only manage a forced grin.

Then Isabella dropped the bombshell that froze me in my tracks.

"Guys, Jin told me we're invited to meet them backstage after the fan meet!" she squealed, her excitement infectious.

The girls erupted into cheers, their joy bubbling over as they hugged each other in disbelief.

I couldn't join in. Not after what had just happened. Not after him.

Taehyung's words echoed in my mind, replaying on a painful loop. While my friends buzzed with anticipation, I felt only dread.

How could I face him again?

The man I adored with all my heart despised me, and I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

Taehyung's POV

When she walked into the fan meet, I almost did a double take. Of all people, I never expected her to show up after what had happened. What was she even thinking? Did she seriously believe I wouldn't remember? Maybe she was one of those fans who thrived on attention, no matter what kind.

I couldn't deny it—she was stunning. Seriously gorgeous. Her features were unique, and the way her mixed heritage added to her beauty was hard to ignore. She had that effortlessly captivating presence that turned heads, but it didn't change the fact that she irritated me to my core.

Watching her float from one member to the next was... unsettling. Jimin, of course, was eating it up. He couldn't stop smiling at her, his flirtatious side fully on display. She seemed to enjoy it too, laughing softly, her cheeks tinged with pink. I cringed internally at the sight. Was she playing him, too?

And then there was Jin hyung with his legendary dad jokes. Normally, I'd chuckle out of habit, but hearing her laugh at them—like really laugh—was almost unbearable. I rolled my eyes inwardly, trying to tune out her giggles. His jokes weren't even that funny.

I whispered under my breath, "Wow, she's such a pretender."

To me, it was obvious. She wasn't just a fan—she was trying too hard to fit in, to be noticed, to leave a mark. Maybe that was what frustrated me the most. She didn't seem genuine.

When it was finally her turn to face me, I decided to flip the script. I plastered on my brightest smile and acted like the perfect idol. It was petty, sure, but I wanted to see her squirm. And she did.

She blushed furiously as I complimented her, fumbling through her words, but her eyes kept darting away. She couldn't even look me in the eye. Part of me wanted to ask her why she was even here. Did she think I'd forgotten what she did? That I'd just let it slide because of her pretty face?

I hated to admit it, but she did look cute when she blushed—like she was genuinely overwhelmed. If only she wasn't a sasaeng fan, I might have found her endearing. But I knew better than to be fooled by appearances.

When the manager gave her the signal that her time was up, I acted impulsively. Before she could leave, I pulled her into a hug. For everyone else, it probably looked like a sweet moment between an idol and a fan. But only she heard what I whispered in her ear.

"Don't think I've forgotten what you did," I said, my voice low and sharp. "You disgust me, and I never want to see your face again."

I felt her body tense against mine, and when I pulled back, her eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back tears. She smiled faintly—probably for the benefit of the others—but the pain in her expression was unmistakable. Did I care? No. She had caused enough trouble. Whatever guilt I might have felt was buried under the weight of her actions.

As the fan meet drew to a close, a familiar bittersweet feeling crept in. Saying goodbye to fans was always hard. They gave us so much love, and their energy was what kept us going during grueling schedules. But goodbyes, no matter how temporary, always left a strange emptiness behind.

Still, the event had been amazing. Seeing their smiles, hearing their cheers, and sharing even a few fleeting moments with them—it reminded me why I loved what I did.

Backstage, the mood was lighthearted as we unwound from the event. Jin hyung, ever the entertainer, suddenly made an announcement.

"Guys, I invited someone and her friends to join us backstage," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So please, be on your best behavior. And Yoongi, try not to fall asleep this time, yeah?"

The room erupted into laughter, Yoongi giving a half-hearted grunt of protest as the rest of us teased him. But Jin's words stuck with me. Who did he invite?

Curiosity buzzed in the back of my mind as we settled into the lounge. Jin had a knack for surprises, and his choices were always... interesting.

My thoughts wandered as I tried to picture who these guests might be. Were they hardcore fans? Casual listeners? Or maybe even industry acquaintances? The possibilities were endless, and for some reason, my heart beat just a little faster at the thought.

And then, the door creaked open.

When I saw her step inside with her friends, my stomach twisted. Of all people—her again.

. . . . . . . . . Hey there, my lovely readers! 🥰

Thank you so much for taking the time to check out this chapter—I hope you're loving the story as much as I've loved writing it for you! Your support truly means everything to me. 💜

Before diving into the next part of our journey, I wanted to share something that's been on my mind. Writing is such a personal and creative process, and sometimes words can take on meanings we never intended. With that in mind, I want to take a moment to clarify something close to my heart.

This story and the admiration expressed for certain races, cultures, or ethnicities are meant to celebrate diversity and uniqueness. It's not about favoring one over another—it's about recognizing and honoring the beauty that exists in all of us.

The world is such an incredible place because of the different colors, traditions, and experiences we all bring to the table. My intention is always to share that love, positivity, and celebration of what makes us beautifully unique.

I hope you'll interpret my words with the love they're rooted in. Let's keep fostering understanding, kindness, and inclusivity, both here in this little fictional world we're building and in the big, real one too. 🌍✨

And of course, I wouldn't be here without you! To all my amazing readers, thank you from the bottom of my heart for every comment, vote, and bit of encouragement you send my way. Your support fuels my creativity and keeps me inspired. 💕

So, let's keep spreading love, light, and good vibes as we continue this journey together! Always remember—you're an important part of this story and this wonderful Army of readers. I appreciate you more than words can express.

Sending you all a big purple heart 💜 and the warmest virtual hugs. Until the next chapter, take care of yourselves and keep shining your beautiful light!

Much love, always, Your author-nim 💖

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @juju-227592

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lynnettys-world · 9 months ago

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My Beloved Idol || Taehyung X reader (ft Jimin X reader) || Fanfiction

[Chapter Three – Rejection]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (ft jimin x reader)

16+

Warning: Angst, cursing, mild/light smut, accusations, hate, constant POV change.

Words: 1.6k!

Summary: When an enthusiastic international fan named Lia sets off on an exhilarating journey with her friends to Korea, she has no idea that this trip will alter her life forever.

Unexpectedly, the group bumps into BTS, the sensational boy band dominating the music scene. Lia's heart races as she meets her idols, especially Taehyung, her bias.

However, this dream encounter quickly turns into a nightmare when Taehyung accuses Lia of being a sasaeng fan.

Feeling wrongfully accused and heartbroken, Lia is forced to accept her fate, no matter how unjust it seems.

Adding to the chaos, their parents drop a bombshell by announcing an arranged marriage between Lia and Taehyung.

The once joyous sparkle in Lia's eyes fades as she realizes she is now bound to someone who views her as a threat.

As the days go by, Taehyung's behavior reveals a cruel side Lia never anticipated.

Read to find out more.

《Series Materialist》《Content》

《Previous》《Next》

3rd Person's POV

As they finally made it to the fan meet, the scene before them was nothing short of organized chaos. The venue was packed with enthusiastic fans, their chatter creating a symphony of anticipation and excitement. Bright banners and light sticks illuminated the space, turning it into a kaleidoscope of colors. The group of friends found themselves weaving through a seemingly endless line, the energy around them both thrilling and overwhelming.

“Why is the line so freaking long?” Mona whined, her frustration etched across her face as she glanced at the queue that appeared to stretch to infinity.

“Didn’t we tell you guys to hurry up? But no, you wanted to take your precious time. So, here’s the result,” Isabella sassed, her voice dripping with mock indignation.

“Oh, please. As if you weren’t the one fixing your eyeliner for twenty minutes,” Mona shot back, rolling her eyes. The playful banter was cut short as a sudden wave of high-pitched screams erupted from inside the building, pulling their attention like a magnet.

There they were—BTS, making their grand entrance. Each member’s charismatic presence lit up the room as they introduced themselves one by one, taking their seats on the stage amidst the uproarious applause and cheers. The crowd seemed to pulse like a living entity, every fan’s focus laser-sharp on the figures now seated before them.

“Omo, you guys, look! They’re even more handsome in real life! I never thought this day would come... I think I’m going to cry!” Lia exclaimed, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and joy. She pulled Mona into an exaggerated hug, her emotions bubbling over in a dramatic display.

“Guys, look at this girl,” Isabella teased. “She’s acting like she’s five years old and just met Santa Claus. And… wait a minute. Guys, I only see six members. Where’s V?” Her brow furrowed in confusion as she scanned the stage more intently.

The group’s excitement gave way to collective puzzlement as their eyes darted from one member to another. Sure enough, Taehyung—their beloved V—was nowhere to be seen.

“He’ll come,” Ria reassured them, her tone calm but tinged with hope. “Maybe he’s running late or there’s a special entrance planned.”

The others nodded, choosing to cling to her optimistic explanation. The thought of Taehyung missing the fan meet entirely was too heartbreaking to entertain.

Suddenly, Lia felt a familiar pang, the kind that made her heart sink. She glanced nervously at her friends before muttering, “Uh, guys… I’ll be right back. Nature calls.”

Mona groaned. “Seriously, Lia? Now? We’re finally here, and you want to use the bathroom?”

“Trust me, this isn’t a choice,” Lia shot back, already turning on her heel and making a beeline for the restroom. Her departure earned a few chuckles from the group, though their focus quickly shifted back to the stage as the Q&A session began.

While BTS answered fans’ questions with their signature charm and wit, Lia navigated her way through the crowded venue. Finding the restroom was no small feat, and by the time she emerged, she was utterly disoriented.

As she tried to retrace her steps, a commotion near one of the side entrances caught her attention. Curious, she edged closer, peeking around a corner.

The hallways stretched endlessly before her as Lia wandered, her nerves pricking at the unfamiliar surroundings. She muttered to herself, her voice low but tinged with frustration, “Hmm, I wonder where the bathrooms are around here. This place is like a maze.”

Minutes ticked by, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors. Just as she was about to give up and retrace her steps, her eyes landed on a door. A small sign affixed to it seemed promising enough. Relief washed over her, and with a hopeful sigh, she pushed the door open.

The smile on her face froze.

“This doesn’t look like the bathro—”

Her words faltered and died in her throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes widened, her brain desperately trying to process what she was seeing. Standing before her, in all his intimidating yet breathtaking presence, was none other than Kim Taehyung. Yes, the Kim Taehyung. Her ultimate bias, the man whose every smile and lyric had been etched into her heart for years, was standing mere feet away.

And he was staring directly at her.

Taehyung’s sharp gaze locked onto her, his expression a mixture of surprise and displeasure. His eyes, usually warm and teasing on-screen, were now cold and cutting. The air between them grew heavy, suffused with tension.

“What are you doing here?” His voice, low and steely, sliced through the silence, making her flinch.

Lia’s mind reeled, her cheeks burning as she stammered, “I-I’m really sorry… I thought this was the bathroom.” She averted her gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of his scrutiny.

Taehyung crossed his arms over his chest, the motion exuding authority. His jaw tightened as he surveyed her, the suspicion in his eyes unmistakable.

“Bathroom?” he echoed, his tone laced with disbelief. “Does this look like the bathroom to you?” His words were biting, but before Lia could fumble out another apology, his next statement sent a chill down her spine.

“I know who you are.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. A cocktail of emotions swirled within her—confusion, hope, and dread. He knew her? But how?

“You do?” she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The sharpness of his glare intensified, and the single word he spat out next hit her like a blow.

“Sasaeng.”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and damning. Lia’s breath caught in her throat, her mind racing to comprehend the word. Sasaeng. The very term she had always abhorred. Someone who crossed boundaries, who invaded privacy, who stalked idols and destroyed the trust between artists and their fans. And now, she was being accused of being one.

“No!” she blurted out, her voice cracking with desperation. “No, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not a sasaeng. I swear—”

“Spare me the bullshit,” Taehyung interrupted, his voice rising with anger. His usual calm and playful demeanor had been replaced by something darker, sharper. “You think you can just worm your way out of this? Showing up in restricted areas and pretending it’s some kind of accident?”

Lia’s knees felt weak as she tried to explain. Her words spilled out in a jumbled mess. “I—I really didn’t know! I was just looking for the bathroom. I had no idea you would be here, I swear. Please, you have to believe me…”

But her pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears. Taehyung took a step closer, his tall frame towering over her. The closeness was suffocating, not in the way she had once fantasized, but in a way that made her feel exposed and vulnerable.

“You think I don’t see through your act?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I’ve dealt with people like you before. Always sneaking around, making excuses, crossing the line. Do you have any idea what it’s like to live like this?”

Tears pricked at Lia’s eyes, threatening to spill over. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Meeting Taehyung was supposed to be a dream come true, not a nightmare. The man she had admired from afar, who had been a source of comfort and inspiration, now looked at her as though she were something vile.

“Please,” she choked out, her voice trembling. “I’m not like that. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I just got lost—”

“Lost?” he sneered. “Do you expect me to believe that?” His words dripped with sarcasm, cutting into her like knives.

The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over, streaking down her cheeks. She wanted to scream, to defend herself, to make him see the truth. But her voice betrayed her, coming out as nothing more than a broken whisper.

“I’m sorry…”

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Taehyung’s gaze softened, just barely, as he took in the sight of her tear-streaked face. But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, his expression hardening once more.

“Don’t you ever show your face in front of me again,” he said coldly, his words a final judgment. He reached out and gripped her arm, not harshly, but firmly enough to drive his point home. “Do you understand me?”

Lia nodded numbly, her body trembling. The humiliation, the pain, the heartbreak of this encounter—it was all too much. She wanted to run, to disappear, to wake up and find this was all just a bad dream. But it wasn’t. This was her reality.

Taehyung released her arm and turned to leave, his footsteps echoing as he walked away. But just before he disappeared through the doorway, he paused and looked over his shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve ruined it. Whatever you were trying to achieve here… it’s over.”

And with that, he was gone.

Lia stood frozen, her heart shattered into pieces. She wiped at her tears with trembling hands, but the ache in her chest wouldn’t go away. This wasn’t just the rejection of an idol; it was the loss of a dream, the destruction of an illusion she had held onto for so long.

The pedestal she had placed him on had crumbled, leaving her with nothing but the painful truth.

Kim Taehyung wasn’t just a star; he was human. And humans could be cruel

The turmoil of emotions raging inside her threatened to consume her, but she knew had to put on a brave face for her friends waiting nearby.

Returning to her friends, Lia forced a smile, masking the pain and humiliation she felt inside.

“Hey Lia, look who’s finally here… Taehyung!” Lauren’s cheerful greeting and mention of Taehyung’s presence pierced through Lia’s facade, reminding her of the harsh reality she was trying desperately to escape.

As they waited for their turn, Lia couldn’t shake the weight of what had just transpired. The thought of facing Taehyung again after their confrontation filled her with dread.

The once-beloved idol now stood as a symbol of her shattered dreams and misplaced admiration, leaving Lia to grapple with the aftermath of his harsh rejection.

With a heavy heart and a forced smile, Lia steeled herself for what lay ahead, unsure of how she would navigate the tumultuous waters of her shattered idolization and the painful reality of Taehyung’s harsh rejection.

. . . . . . . . .

Hey there! 🤗

I hope you're all doing amazing! So, what did you think of this chapter? I'd love to know your thoughts!

Taehyung's actions might come off as a little rude, but I think we can all understand his perspective, especially with how overwhelming sasaengs can be. 🙃

Just a gentle reminder: what you’re reading here is purely fictional. In real life, Taehyung is the sweetest person and wouldn’t ever intentionally be rude—not even to sasaengs. (Though let’s admit, his real-life savagery toward haters and sasaengs is chef’s kiss perfection!) 💋

Thank you so much for taking the time to read! Don’t forget to vote and drop a comment—your support truly means the world to me and keeps me motivated. ❤

Sending loads of love and good vibes your way!

Cheerfully, Your Quirky Author-nim 😉

TAGLIST OPEN!

TAGLIST: @juju-227592

#my writing #writeblr #bts fic #bts x fem!reader #jeon jungkook #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #min yoongi #park jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #bts taehyung #taehyung #park jimin bts #jimin x reader #bts jimin #mixed girls #asian african american

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lynnettys-world · 9 months ago

Text

My Beloved Idol || Taehyung X reader (ft Jimin X reader) || Fanfiction

[Chapter Two – Seoul]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (ft jimin x reader)

16+

Warning: Angst, cursing, mild/light smut, accusations, hate, constant POV change.

Words: 3k!

Summary: When an enthusiastic international fan named Lia sets off on an exhilarating journey with her friends to Korea, she has no idea that this trip will alter her life forever.

Unexpectedly, the group bumps into BTS, the sensational boy band dominating the music scene. Lia's heart races as she meets her idols, especially Taehyung, her bias.

However, this dream encounter quickly turns into a nightmare when Taehyung accuses Lia of being a sasaeng fan.

Feeling wrongfully accused and heartbroken, Lia is forced to accept her fate, no matter how unjust it seems.

Adding to the chaos, their parents drop a bombshell by announcing an arranged marriage between Lia and Taehyung.

The once joyous sparkle in Lia's eyes fades as she realizes she is now bound to someone who views her as a threat.

As the days go by, Taehyung's behavior reveals a cruel side Lia never anticipated.

Read to find out more.

《Series Materialist》《Content》

《Previous》《Next》

3rd Person's POV

The moment their plane touched down in Korea, Lia could barely contain her excitement. As they stepped into the bustling terminal, her energy bubbled over.

"Guys, we're finally here! We're in Korea! Oh my God, I'm so thrilled!" she exclaimed, her voice rising with joy as she practically bounced in place.

The group gathered their luggage, their movements a blend of exhaustion from the long journey and the excitement of what lay ahead. Alya, ever practical, broke the chatter with a question.

"Okay, who handled the accommodation? I don't even know where we're staying," she admitted, raising a brow.

"That would be Lauren and me," Lia chimed in confidently, hefting her suitcase and motioning for everyone to follow. "Trust us—we got this."

Their journey led them to an upscale residential area, where their apartment stood waiting like something out of a glossy travel magazine. The sight of the sleek building and its polished surroundings left them all speechless—except for Shontelle, who broke the silence with her signature humor.

"Guys, I'm dying," she gasped dramatically, spinning around to take it all in. "This place is way too beautiful. Are you sure we didn't book the wrong place?"

The laughter that followed was a mix of disbelief and delight. They hurried inside, eager to see their new home for the foreseeable future. The apartment was every bit as stunning as the exterior promised—spacious, modern, and absolutely brimming with luxury.

They divided up the rooms and began unpacking their belongings, settling into their temporary haven. Isabella, always the steady one in the group, clapped her hands once to get everyone's attention.

"Alright, is everyone settled in?" she asked, her tone naturally maternal.

A chorus of teasing responses followed, "Yes, mom!"

Rolling her eyes but smiling, Isabella brushed off the nickname, secretly pleased by the affectionate jab. A devoted BTS fan with a soft spot for Jin, she had an instinctive knack for looking out for her friends—just as he did with his bandmates.

While the others continued organizing, Mona plopped down on the couch and started scrolling through her phone. She gasped, her eyes widening as she stumbled across an announcement.

"Guys!" she shrieked, almost startling Shontelle into dropping her suitcase. "BTS is having a fan meet this Saturday!"

The room buzzed with sudden excitement as they processed the news.

"Oh my God, we have to go," Ria declared, already imagining the possibilities. "Let's check in at the university first, then we can make a plan."

Alya, ever the logistical mastermind, nodded with enthusiasm. "We should go super early. You know the crowd is going to be insane—it's BTS, after all."

Isabella, seeing the group's energy rising, stepped into her usual role as "Mother"

"Okay, my babies," she said, a warm smile softening her features. "I'll take care of everything. You don't need to worry about a thing. For now, let's eat something and get some rest—we have a big day tomorrow."

Her caring tone drew a wave of mock groans and giggles, but they couldn't deny how much they relied on her.

They huddled together in the kitchen, and ordered a simple but satisfying meal to share. The warm atmosphere filled the apartment, laughter and teasing flying across the table as they ate.

When the meal was done, they each retreated to their rooms, exhaustion finally catching up to them. The anticipation of the days to come filled the air like an unspoken promise, drawing them closer as friends embarking on the adventure of a lifetime.

And as they drifted off to sleep, one thought remained on all their minds; the BTS fan meet was just the beginning.

---

-Time Skip Brought to You by Yoongi’s Gummy Smile-

Weekdays often felt endless, but Friday finally arrived, bringing with it a buzz of anticipation.

As the clock ticked past noon, Mona’s voice broke the lull. “Guys, how about we hit the mall and do some serious damage in the clothing department?” she suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Heck yeah! Count me in!” Alya chimed in, her enthusiasm infectious.

Isabella, ever the dependable leader, grabbed her car keys and smiled. “I’ll drive. Let’s roll!”

With the squad loaded into the car, the atmosphere crackled with laughter and upbeat chatter as they headed toward the nearest shopping mall. It was time to dive headfirst into fashion heaven.

Upon arrival, they split into two groups, each with its own mission. Isabella led her squad, which included Mona, Shontelle, and Ria, while Lia, Jessica, Lauren, and Alya teamed up to explore different sections.

Jessica’s eyes sparkled as they passed the luxury boutiques. “I’m dying to check out the new collection at Gucci,” she declared, her voice tinged with excitement.

“Gucci? Definitely!” Lia agreed enthusiastically. She glanced at her friends and casually dropped a bombshell. “Oh, and, fun fact. My grandparents own Gucci.”

Lauren froze mid-step, her mouth falling open. “Wait, what?! Your grandparents own Gucci? How did we not know this?!”

Lia shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not really a big deal to them. They like to keep things low-key, especially here in Korea. They’re on a business trip right now but will be back next month.”

The group stared at Lia in a mix of awe and disbelief, their amazement lingering as they strolled into the Gucci store, visions of couture pieces dancing in their heads.

Inside the chic boutique, the air buzzed with elegance, the kind that made your posture straighten automatically. As Lia and Jessica admired the trendy displays, Lia turned toward the next aisle and accidentally collided with a store worker.

The impact was light, but the worker’s reaction was anything but.

“Yah! Are you crazy?!” the woman spat, her voice sharp and cutting. “Don’t you have eyes, huh?! Can’t you see where you’re going?”

Lia stammered, her cheeks flushing red as she opened her mouth to apologize, but the worker didn’t stop.

“I bet you can’t even afford anything here,” she sneered, her gaze raking over her like she was dirt beneath her shoes. “It’s too expensive for a stupid half-breed like you. Get out!”

The venom in his words struck like a slap, and gasps echoed from nearby customers who had turned to watch the scene unfold.

Before Lia could recover, she shoved her backward, the force causing her to stumble. The store’s luxurious atmosphere seemed to crack under the weight of the confrontation, tension hanging thick in the air as the worker’s anger burned bright and humiliating.

Lia’s heart pounded, her shock giving way to a mix of hurt and outrage.

Just as the sting of the worker’s cruel words threatened to shatter Lia’s composure, a pair of strong hands reached out, steadying her and preventing her from falling to the ground.

Lia’s heart raced as she looked up, meeting the eyes of a familiar face. The man who had caught her was none other than Sunghoon, her grandparents’ trusted right-hand. She hadn’t seen him in years, not since their trip to New York when she was just seventeen.

Sunghoon was taken aback when he realized it was Lia—his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. The girl he had once known, who had always possessed a quiet beauty, had now blossomed into someone undeniably stunning. Her deep dimples framed her face when she smiled, her light brown eyes seemed to shimmer with warmth, and her long, thick dark purple curls cascaded over her shoulders like a silk waterfall.

He had always admired her from afar, captivated by her beauty and the sweetness of her nature. At the time of their last meeting, he had been an intern studying business management at just twenty-one years old, and though their time together had been short—two months at most—he’d formed a bond with her that had felt stronger than most relationships.

While Lia had been an only child, she had found a kindred spirit in Sunghoon, who, despite their age difference, had filled the role of an older brother she had longed for. Their connection had been easy, natural, and deep. Though he had to return to Korea, promising to visit whenever possible, the bond between them had never really faded.

Two years had passed since their last meeting, but the moment he laid eyes on her again, he realized just how much she had changed. She had grown even more beautiful, in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. She radiated a quiet, ethereal glow, and it was hard for him to pull his eyes away.

As soon as Lia saw him, her face lit up with recognition and pure joy. "I'm okay—oh my Sunghoonie-oppa, is that you?!" Her voice trembled with disbelief, but her smile was wide and warm, a pure reflection of the happiness in her heart at their unexpected reunion.

Sunghoon grinned widely, clearly thrilled to see her again. "Lia, wow, look at you! You've grown so much and you look even more beautiful," he said, genuine excitement lacing his words.

Lia, ever the playful spirit, immediately gave him a teasing tap on the arm. "What are you talking about? It's only been two years since I saw you last. I don’t think I’ve changed that much. Maybe just my hair length and color, that’s all," she said, shrugging casually.

Sunghoon let out a soft laugh, his eyes softening as he looked at her. He reached up and playfully booped her nose, his smile warm and fond. "You’re still short, though," he teased, his laughter echoing in the space between them.

Lia shot him a mock glare, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. Their playful banter was a comfortable reminder of the connection they shared—a bond that had weathered the passage of time. The easy teasing between them, the familiarity in the way they interacted, all made it clear that their friendship had remained intact, even across the years and miles that had separated them.

It was as if no time had passed at all.

They completely blanked out the people surrounding them, who were now staring in disbelief.

It was no secret that Woo Sunghoon held an esteemed position as the executive director of Gucci, managing various other companies for the prestigious Lee family. Known for his unwavering dedication to his work and no-nonsense attitude, he had an air of authority that demanded respect.

Women swooned over him—he was tall, strikingly handsome, and radiated wealth and power. His close ties to the Lee family only added to his allure, and yet, despite his typically reserved demeanor, those around him were surprised to see Sunghoon engaged in conversation with a beautiful young woman.

Observers couldn't help but wonder who she was. Though her face appeared youthful, there was a certain maturity in the way she carried herself. She radiated an elegance and charm that caught the attention of everyone nearby. It was as if she was the kind of woman any man would instinctively want to protect, simply by virtue of the presence she exuded.

"Hey, what brings you here?" Sunghoon asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. "Your grandparents mentioned you were coming to Korea, but I didn’t expect to run into you here. What are you doing in the store?"

Hold up—grandparents? Who were this girl’s grandparents?

According to the grapevine, the only people connected to Sunghoon who could possibly be old enough to have grandchildren were the Lee family. But as far as anyone knew, the Lees didn’t have any grandchildren. There were rumors about a daughter married to a wealthy African-American tycoon, and a son who was engaged and running successful businesses overseas. So, who was this mystery girl?

"Oh, right! I nearly forgot," Lia chimed in, her excitement evident. "I’m here with my friends to shop for clothes, we’re gearing up for a fan meet tomorrow!"

"So, let me guess," Sunghoon smirked, "this fan meet you're going to is a BTS fan meet, right?" He shook his head with a playful grin, knowing how much Lia loved the world-famous boy band.

Lia’s eyes lit up, confirming, "Yes! Eeee! I was going to buy some clothes, but then I accidentally bumped into her," she said, pointing at the woman now frozen in place, eyes wide, sweat beading on her forehead.

As Sunghoon observed the woman, his once warm gaze turned cold, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Why did you yell at her?" he demanded, his voice laced with venom.

The woman, now realizing the gravity of the situation, felt a wave of panic wash over her. She had clearly offended someone important.

Dropping to her knees, she stammered, "S-sir, I’m really s-sorry. I didn’t know she was r-related t-to you."

Sunghoon’s tone grew sharper as he pointed at Lia, his eyes narrowing. "Do you even know who she is?"

The woman froze, unable to speak. Deep down, she knew that Lia was not someone to be trifled with, and her instincts told her that Sunghoon’s protective and respectful demeanor towards Lia meant she was someone significant.

Lia, not wanting the situation to escalate, quickly stepped in, hoping to defuse the tension before it went any further. She was well aware of how fiercely protective Sunghoon was of her, but she also knew he could be intimidating when riled up.

Before she could intervene, however, Sunghoon’s voice boomed across the room, taking everyone by surprise.

"Who do you think you are, disrespecting the Lee family’s granddaughter like that?" His eyes flashed with anger as he glared at the woman, his authority unmistakable.

Lia felt awkward standing there, unsure of what to do in the tense atmosphere. Just then, two elderly figures entered the room, and Lia's heart skipped a beat.

"What's going on here? Lia, is that you?" Her grandfather’s voice cut through the tension, his eyes widening in shock at the unexpected sight of his granddaughter.

He had received a call to come to the store for some urgent matter but had never expected to find Lia caught up in such a commotion.

"Hal-abeoji, Halmeoni!" Lia’s heart swelled with love as she ran towards her grandparents, enveloping them in a tight hug.

The atmosphere in the room grew even more still, especially for the woman who had unknowingly crossed a dangerous line. She realized the gravity of her mistake—offending the only grandchild of the Lee family, who was not just a multi-billionaire but also the only child of a famous fashion icon.

Sunghoon quickly approached Lia’s grandparents, explaining the situation to them in hushed tones.

Mr. Lee’s expression darkened, ready to unleash his anger, but Lia held his arm gently, locking eyes with her grandfather. His gaze was filled with years of wisdom and love, but also the same youthful sparkle Lia remembered.

"Hal-abeoji, it’s okay. It was my fault. I bumped into her because I wasn’t paying attention. There’s no need to reprimand her or take any further action. She has apologized, haven’t you?" Lia turned to the woman, who nodded frantically, realizing how close she had come to disaster.

With a gentle warning, the tension in the room slowly dissipated, and everyone went about their business, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

The woman breathed a sigh of relief, having narrowly escaped a potentially catastrophic outcome.

Lia looked at her grandparents in astonishment, trying to process the unexpected encounter in the middle of the store.

"I thought you guys had gone on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until next month?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

Her grandparents exchanged a knowing smile, her grandfather explaining that they had actually returned earlier than expected, wanting to surprise her.

Lia couldn’t help but laugh at their sweet gesture, feeling a wave of warmth at their thoughtfulness.

Excitedly, Lia introduced her friend Jessica to her grandparents, making plans to bring the rest of her girl squad to meet them on her next visit.

The air was filled with joy and camaraderie as they caught up, sharing stories and moments of love. Lia’s heart swelled with gratitude for her family.

As they prepared to part ways, Sunghoon joined them to walk Lia and Jessica out of the store.

They exchanged friendly smiles and light conversation as they made their way through the bustling mall.

"Hey Lia, I’m guessing you got a Korean phone number. Can you give me your new number before you go?" he asked.

"Ah, yes, sure, oppa," she replied, a playful laugh in her voice.

With a quick exchange of numbers and a final goodbye, Lia and Jessica made their way to meet up with the rest of their friends at the food court.

Gathering around a table, the group of girls settled in, the air filled with laughter and animated chatter.

Lia and Jessica took turns recounting the events of their encounter with Lia’s grandparents and Sunghoon, sharing giggles and inside jokes along the way.

The atmosphere was cozy and familiar, a perfect blend of friendship and companionship that made Lia’s heart feel full.

As they sat together, enjoying each other’s company, Lia couldn’t help but feel grateful for the moments of connection and joy that had filled her day.

Surrounded by loved ones and friends, she knew that these simple moments were the ones that made life truly special.

And as she basked in the warmth of friendship and laughter, a sense of contentment washed over her. She was grateful for the love and companionship that filled her world.

-Time Skip Brought To You By "Yoongi Marry Me!"-

Saturday finally arrived, and the air was thick with excitement. The girls could barely contain their joy as they prepared for the day ahead. The first stop was the university, where they quickly wrapped up some errands before heading straight to the highly anticipated fan meet.

As they hustled through the campus, Isabella, always the motivator, urged everyone to pick up the pace. “Hurry up, guys! We can’t be late!” she called, her excitement practically vibrating in her voice.

With their tasks at the university out of the way, the girls were pumped and ready to hit the fan meet. The moment they stepped outside, the buzz of excitement was palpable. They couldn’t help but chat about their favorite moments from past concerts, speculating on what surprises the event might hold.

As they neared the venue, their hearts were racing, filled with anticipation. The sounds of excited fans and the electric energy in the air made their nerves tingle. It was clear that this wasn’t just another fan event—it was going to be something unforgettable.

The day was just beginning, and the promise of meeting their idols hung in the air, making every step toward the venue feel like a dream come true.

words: 3K!

Author's Note:

Hey everyone! I just wanted to drop a quick note about this chapter. 😊 (P.S. The outfits the girls bought are linked to each girl and bias, so feel free to check them out! 👗✨)

I know this chapter might seem a bit slower, but trust me—things are about to get a whole lot more exciting! 🥳 I’ve got some fun twists and turns lined up, so stay tuned!

Also, I realized I totally forgot to mention the biases for the girls in the story! Here’s the scoop:

Lia and Jessica are both crushing hard on Taehyung,

Alya can’t get enough of Jimin,

Mona is absolutely smitten with Jungkook,

Isabella adores Soekjin (aka Jin),

Ria’s heart belongs to Namjoon (RM),

Shontelle is all about Hoseok (J-Hope),

And Lauren can’t resist Yoongi (Suga)!

pictures belong to respective owners

Each of these characters has their own bias, which adds a fun layer to their interactions and dynamics. 💖

As always, don’t forget to leave a comment and vote to let me know your thoughts! Your feedback truly means the world to me. Thank you so much for your continued support, and I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. More exciting things are coming, so hang in there!

Sending lots of love and virtual hugs to all of you! 💕

Your favorite author-nim 😘

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lynnettys-world · 9 months ago

Text

My Beloved Idol || Taehyung X reader (ft Jimin X reader) || Fanfiction

[Chapter One – Prologue]

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (ft jimin x reader)

16+

Warning: Angst, cursing, mild/light smut, accusations, hate, constant POV change.

Words: 1.5k!

Summary: When an enthusiastic international fan named Lia sets off on an exhilarating journey with her friends to Korea, she has no idea that this trip will alter her life forever.

Unexpectedly, the group bumps into BTS, the sensational boy band dominating the music scene. Lia's heart races as she meets her idols, especially Taehyung, her bias.

However, this dream encounter quickly turns into a nightmare when Taehyung accuses Lia of being a sasaeng fan.

Feeling wrongfully accused and heartbroken, Lia is forced to accept her fate, no matter how unjust it seems.

Adding to the chaos, their parents drop a bombshell by announcing an arranged marriage between Lia and Taehyung.

The once joyous sparkle in Lia's eyes fades as she realizes she is now bound to someone who views her as a threat.

As the days go by, Taehyung's behavior reveals a cruel side Lia never anticipated.

Read to find out more.

《Series Materialist》《Content》

《Next》

Author's POV

Lia’s world revolved around one constant: her unshakable love for BTS, the global K-pop phenomenon that had taken the world by storm. To her, they weren’t just idols—they were her inspiration, her solace, her joy.

Living in the vibrant chaos of New York City, Lia and her closest friends were a tight-knit group of ARMYs. They religiously followed every update, every comeback, and every performance, their lives stitched together by a shared devotion to seven extraordinary men. Yet, despite BTS’s frequent visits to America, fate seemed intent on keeping Lia at bay.

There was always something—a last-minute commitment, a grueling school project, or some unshakable family obligation. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but each time BTS came to town, Lia found herself cheering from behind a screen, her heart aching to be part of the ocean of lightsticks swaying in unison.

Still, watching their live streams with her friends became a ritual, a sacred moment where reality melted away. They would scream, cry, and sing along as though they were there, their bond growing stronger with every shared tear and laugh.

But Lia was no ordinary fan. Her connection to Korean culture ran deeper than lyrics or fan chants. Born to a Korean mother and an African-American father, Lia embodied a rare blend of beauty, grace, and resilience. Her mother, a celebrated fashion icon from Seoul, ensured that Lia grew up fluent in the language of her heritage and steeped in its traditions. Lia’s father, on the other hand, was a business mogul whose influence extended across continents, steering a multi-billion-dollar empire that placed their family among the world’s elite.

With a lineage steeped in wealth and prestige—her maternal grandparents overseeing the Korean branches of Gucci and Chanel, while her mother helmed the American operations—Lia could have easily fallen into the trap of entitlement. But she didn’t. Her upbringing, while luxurious, had always been balanced by her parents’ insistence on humility and hard work.

As an only child, Lia grew up showered with love and opportunity, but she never let her privilege define her. Instead, she strived to pave her own way, driven by dreams that were entirely her own. For years, she grappled with the challenges of being seen for who she truly was. Her striking beauty—an exquisite blend of her parents’ genes—often drew attention, but so did her family’s status.

“Blasian beauty,” people called her, but Lia longed for connections that weren’t laced with ulterior motives or envy.

In high school, Lia and her six best friends, all hailing from well-off families, crafted a dream: to study in Korea. For them, it was about more than just fangirling over BTS, though that was undeniably a huge part of it. They yearned for adventure, for the chance to immerse themselves in a culture that felt both foreign and familiar.

For Lia, the dream held even more weight. Born and raised in New York, she had never set foot in her mother’s homeland. Moving to Korea wasn’t just about proximity to her idols; it was about discovering her roots, embracing the parts of herself she’d only glimpsed from afar.

Music had always been her escape, her passion, and BTS amplified it tenfold. Their journey, their artistry, and their relentless drive spoke to her soul. They were her muses, inspiring her to dance, sing, and dream bigger than ever before.

Initially, Lia prided herself on being an “OT7” fan, loving each member equally. But over time, a quiet fondness for Taehyung—known as V—began to blossom. She resisted at first, loyal to the idea that no one member could outshine the others in her heart. But her friends, perceptive as ever, intervened with a heartfelt discussion over coffee and late-night laughter.

“Having a bias doesn’t mean you love the others any less,” they assured her. “It’s about connection. And it’s okay to let yourself feel that.”

After much deliberation, Lia finally allowed herself to embrace her bias. Taehyung’s artistry, his duality of playfulness and introspection, and the way his voice seemed to reach the very corners of her heart—all of it felt like fate.

Accepting Taehyung as her bias felt like a revelation, and with it came a new layer of joy in her journey as a fan.

Now, with her sights set on Korea, Lia stood on the precipice of something greater. Her dreams of independence, her love for music, and her connection to her heritage were all coming together, woven into a tapestry of resilience and ambition.

This wasn’t just about BTS anymore. It was about Lia becoming the woman she was destined to be—a dreamer, a doer, and a girl who dared to believe in the magic of her own story.

---

The living room hummed with the cozy cadence of a lazy afternoon. The girls lounged in their usual spots, each lost in her own thoughts or small distractions. That was, until Lia burst into the room, her face practically glowing with excitement. The air shifted immediately, drawing everyone's attention.

"Guys, guess what?!" she exclaimed, her voice brimming with barely contained enthusiasm.

Lauren groaned, peeling herself from her peaceful nap with an exaggerated yawn. “What is it now, Lia? Why are you yelling like a lunatic?” she muttered, shooting her an annoyed look.

Lia waved a handful of letters in the air like they were golden tickets. “The admission letters are here!” she declared, her excitement so infectious that it silenced the room.

All eyes snapped to her. For a beat, there was nothing but silence—and then chaos. The girls scrambled to their feet, rushing toward Lia with a flurry of excited cries.

“Omo!” they shrieked in unison, their voices overlapping as they clutched at their respective envelopes. Laughter and squeals echoed through the room as they tore into the letters, each heart pounding with anticipation.

“I hope we all got in,” Jessica murmured, her tone a mix of nervous hope and excitement. She crossed her fingers tightly, her eyes flitting between her friends. “Studying in Korea together… meeting our idols… It’s been our dream from the very beginning.”

When the final envelope was opened, the room erupted into cheers. Each of them had been accepted, and as if the universe wanted to give their dreams an extra nudge, they’d all received scholarships. Gratitude poured out in waves, their disbelief mingling with joy. Even though they didn’t need the financial aid, it felt like a blessing they couldn’t turn down.

“I can’t believe it,” Ria whispered, her voice trembling as she read her letter again. “We all got in. I didn’t think it was possible… oh my God, this is real.”

It didn’t take long for the girls to shift gears from disbelief to action. They chattered excitedly, already making plans: deciding when they’d leave, discussing accommodations, and debating the best way to break the news to their families.

After much deliberation, they set the timeline: seven days. Tomorrow, they’d tell their families. The room buzzed with anticipation, every corner filled with the sound of their laughter and excited plans.

The week raced by in a blur of activity. The house became a whirlwind of chaos—clothes scattered everywhere, suitcases in various stages of packing, and voices constantly overlapping as they planned and double-checked their to-do lists.

Isabella couldn’t stop talking, her eyes sparkling as she described all the ways their lives were about to change. She clasped her hands together, her voice dripping with dreamy reverence.

“Guys, just imagine it,” she said, sighing wistfully. “We’ll be walking the same streets as BTS. I might actually see them. See them.”

Mona, half-buried under a pile of clothes, popped her head up, her expression one of pure delight. “Oh my gosh, I was so busy packing I almost forgot about them for a second! This is going to be the best thing ever!”

As the day of their flight arrived, a bittersweet mood settled over the group. Their families came to see them off, creating a cacophony of hugs, tears, and heartfelt goodbyes at the airport.

“Promise to call!” a mother said, her voice choked with emotion.

“Stay safe, and don’t forget to eat,” another relative added.

The girls nodded through tears, soaking in the warmth of their loved ones one last time before stepping into the unknown.

Boarding the plane felt surreal. Excitement coursed through them as they buckled in, their hearts racing with anticipation. The steady hum of the engines became a comforting rhythm, amplifying their giddy energy.

As the plane soared into the sky, reality sank in: they were on their way. Not just to Korea, but to a dream they had nurtured for so long. Laughter bubbled up among them, their conversations bouncing from visions of new adventures to the tantalizing possibility of seeing BTS in person.

The hours melted away, filled with chatter, daydreams, and occasional nervous jitters. By the time the plane began its descent, their hearts were pounding in unison.

As the wheels touched down, a quiet thrill rippled through the group. They glanced at one another, their expressions a mix of disbelief and pure joy.

This was it. The beginning of their adventure. A shared dream, years in the making, was finally coming to life. And somewhere in the back of their minds, the thought lingered: Maybe, just maybe, we’ll meet them.

---

Hey there!

So excited for Chapter One, aren't we? I know it might feel a bit slow and short, but trust me, the upcoming chapters are going to be super interesting. Stay tuned for more juicy plot twists and character developments!

I would really appreciate it if you could leave a comment and vote to let me know what you think. Your feedback is like fuel for my creative engine! It helps me understand what you enjoy and what I can improve on.

Thank you for being the best readers ever! Your support means the world to me. 🌟 Let's go on this journey together and make it unforgettable!

Sending love and virtual hugs your way, besties! 💕 Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

XOXO, your author-nim 😘

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