clutterfield

[clutterfield]

The List

You had a list of five absurdly delusional things you wanted to do. And on top of them was marry the super famous idol, Min Yoongi. OT7 x reader with Yoongi x reader focus.

Main m.list

A/N. Hello! Like I've said, my hiatus is sporadic lmao. Also, I lost my master list so I had to search myself on Tumblr before I could find the links for this series. 🤦

Chapter warnings: Cussing, implied sexual content, obsessive behavior, alcohol consumption

Chapter 4.

Everything was a flash of sin city – strobe lights and electric beats burning in your ears.

It was practically impossible to weave through the mass of bodies smelling of sweat and pungent alcohol without the hand intertwined with yours as your feet try to keep up with his lengthy strides.

“Theo!” You shout through the din, head slightly throbbing from the copious amounts of alcohol you had pre gamed earlier before your childish boy that is merely a friend had completely dragged you here.

Parties were not something you gravitated towards, not when you were in a surly mood.

Work was slow what with the torrential downpour and with old man Park – no, Jimin’s (as the idol had insisted on you calling him) father nowhere to be seen, you and the other staff had called it a day.

So you had been looking forward to a hot bath, perhaps delve into rereading one of your favorite books for the umpteenth time, only for your hopes to be door dashed by an overly excited roomie.

It seems Theodore was once again in one of his moods and when said moods presented themselves to you, it meant you were not going home until you were shitfaced drunk, probably collapsed on the side of the road somewhere only for some cops to find you in the wee early morning.

Oh it happened before.

And you were not pleased.

Also, with the way your best friend was clinging to you, your ankles were pretty much swollen, him having shoved six inch demon shoes on your now aching feet that all you desired to do at the moment was lean onto a pole as your eyes flicker to the stripper who had been grinding against the silvery shiny vertical apparatus for a good twenty minutes, her beaded vagina on full display.

But before you consider bee lining to the naked women dancing among the whooping crowd of animalistic and equally buzzed straight and not straight men, Theodore is screaming in your ear as his pointer finger jabs your ribs painfully.

With an annoyed frown, you swat him away, “Theo, I have had a fucking long day at work and I do not need your bony appendages poking my internal organs, thank you very much!” You hiss under your breath, vision slightly wobbly but your brows furrow when Theo looks at you funny like you were a hippopotamus on display.

“What?”

A shrill voice echoes in your brain as the both of you are pulled into the VIP section – what the fuck? – and someone, namely a slender female figure latches onto your much more rounded, much more petite frame. “YNie! Are you having fun?”

Your head swivels to the left and your mouth is assaulted with cotton candy fluff which turns out to be hair.

Lalisa Manoban’s hair to be exact. Lalisa Manoban who was wearing a pretty little wig and pretty little sunglasses that no one thought any better that a world famous kpop star was lurking in a crude Japanese host club in the red light district of Akihabara.

Again, what the actual fuck?

“I think she’s had too much to drink, Liz.”

“Oh, well, wanna get out of here? We can just do some Netflix reruns in the jet?”

“Yeah, maybe we should. Just until she sobers up at least.” A ghost of a breath on your lips awakens you for a brief second to realize that Lisa was nuzzling against your neck for some odd reason.

“And then we’re heading to England?”

“Definitely. Have to say hello to my old man anyway. Besides, he’s been missing you, little cousin.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet of him!” Lisa giggles chirping, still clinging onto your back like a koala as your head sets itself straight wondering what in the ever loving fuck they were talking about.

But wait-

You were not feeling particularly hot at the moment…

You felt like puking all over your new Gucci designer jeans (where the fuck did you get them anyway?).

Or at least blacking the hell out.

In fact….the floor looks so good right now-

A glossy kiss lands on your cheek before your eyes droop to oblivion.

*

Now Namjoon was not raised to be a snoop.

However, desperate times, desperate measures.

Or it was an accident really. And since he was the Kim Namjoon, everything was an accident.

He didn’t mean to just enter your room so brazenly when he visited Yoongi’s apartment to check in on you (or check in on your suspiciously gay friend just to check that he wasn’t checking out what wasn’t his but was theirs as he should), and accidentally stumble upon your open diary.

He had laughed it off as cute at first, and yet when he had spotted that one particular list of things he shouldn’t have spotted in the first place, his heart raced, his face paled, and he just about panic called every one of his members except for Yoongi whose phone was on airplane mode at the moment.

“What do you mean she wants to get naked with Gdragon?!” A livid Seokjin shouts through the other end as Namjoon splutters over his words, hands still gripping the diary like he wanted to erase the filth written on the particular offending page, eyes burning holes onto it.

“It’s like a fucking wish list or something, hyung! I don’t fucking know!” Namjoon shouts back, panics even more as his large brain proceeds at that very moment to process the reason why you might be in Japan right now with a member of Black Pink, having ridden in her very private jet none the less.

Because if he was right about this, you might just be getting in your birthday suit with none other than the man they had revered for so long.

And Gdragon was not someone to fool around with once he got serious.

Well at least that is if you knew the older idol, which was impossible, right? You didn’t have that many celebrity connections, right?

Cold sweat forms on his brow as he hastily swipes at it just as his other phone vibrates and as he opens his Instagram account, his feed explodes with a picture of Lisa smooshing your faces together happily (you seemed drunk-ish?) and your (more and more definitely gay) roommate slash best friend at the back smirking inside what appeared to be a private residence.

However, what makes the Bangtan’s usually fearless leader grit his teeth anxiously, fists clenching around the phone is the fact that he could easily spot the mountainous ridges adorning the window view in the horizon and the very familiar architectural structure lining the walls.

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs as he silently curses.

You were in fucking Europe which meant that Yoongi-hyung was wasting his time flying to Japan when you weren't even there anymore!

And if there was one thing all of them despised was being led around the bush like some sort of foolish little pups on a leash.

Once Yoongi finds out, there would be hell to pay and Namjoon doesn’t know how much longer they could stall their managers from tearing the place apart to drag them all back to the company premises because they had kind of literally left their individual schedules running that if they weren't who they were, they would have been fired on the spot hands down.

“Jin-hyung, I have a plan. But can you get Wheein-noona in on this?”

“Wheein? Why?” Jin huffs through, clearly unimpressed at the mention of his ex fling's name as Namjoon collapses onto the edge of the bed, rubbing at his temples tiredly.

“Because, she’s the only one you know that’s tight with Jiyong-sunbaenim.”

“…Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

The line cuts dead and the exhausted leader fully slumps onto the duvet that still smelled of your subtle shampoo.

He rolls over and inhales your scent deeply, wishing that your body was next to his instead at that very second.

Hopefully the plan he was about to hatch works or Yoongi would tear them all apart. Having had known the older man the longest, Namjoon was aware of his hyung's certain proclivities and when Yoongi was obsessed, Yoongi was not rational until he becomes satisfied after taming his obsession into dimmed embers, dragon like claws not letting go forever.

It was the same with the other guys that Namjoon had jokingly once said they should have been called the Obsessive Boy scouts.

Basically the moment they had all set their sights on you, you were theirs for eternity to hold and to cherish- to maybe keep locked away from prying eyes that don't deserve you.

Fuck, Namjoon would gladly tear himself apart if you so much as show skin to someone else other than any of them, even if it was Kwon Jiyong.

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

Hi! Hello, forgive me for being inactive on this side blog as I've been curating my main blog @clutterfied. But I did drop a chapter for Ghost Busters so if you would still want to read that...🥺

[clutterfield]

Hello! May I be added to the Ghost Busters tag list please? 💖

Hi! No problem I'll put you in the next one! 🔮

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Horror

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 8: The Hen House part 1

A/N. Y'all. Have you seen airport Yoongi 2022? Also, wrote this while on the road so forgive me if it's sloppy. 🥹

FLASHBACK

Smoke filled your lungs, an endless circle of tobacco and the smell of fried eggs and grilling meat as you tried to push your sweaty hair to the side, the sun beating down on your bare fore arms, the prickling heat shoved at the forefront of your mind incessantly.

You just know you were going to get a tan in weird places with the way your shirt sleeves were haphazardly rolled up to your shoulders and the frayed edge tied to a side knot just above your hip bone.

If anything you looked like a poster girl for Rosie the Riveter minus the iconic red polka-dotted headband.

You had foregone wearing shorts, opting for jeans instead as you weren't really all that comfortable showing a good amount of skin below your stomach and so it was sweltering hot as you attempted with a mild grunt to carry the multitude of colored boxes for a new resident of the Hen House - you think you've read one labelled Toys and you weren't born yesterday to decipher what that had meant.

With a blush, you enter the comfortable air conditioned lobby of the home, the receptionist smiling behind the desk before going back to jot down something on her clipboard, and you trudge up the winding staircases down to the east wing.

The Hen House, built upon an old abandoned convent back in the day boasted a sprawling ten-acre enclave lined with all kinds of trees and greenery, a massive lake just behind the structure where you mostly loved to spend your time lounging by the docks whenever you didn't have anything to do, feeding whatever woodland creature graced you with it's presence so you tended to pocket an assortment of nuts and bits and pieces of bread whenever you visit.

It was actually one of the adopted social services program for Kyung Hee, the university you were attending, extending help to women (and men) who previously worked in the under hood of Korea's red light districts and were trying to turn over a new page in their battered, worn out books.

Initially you were hesitant, what with your swamped schedule but your professor had convinced you otherwise in exchange for raising your GPA so you had agreed without thinking too much of the consequences.

Passing through the hallways all while giving a wave or two to the relatively cheerful residents doing their own thing, you come to a stop in front of a wooden door.

Lightly nudging it open, you toddle through and gently place the boxes in a corner of the room out of harm's way.

"Thanks, sweet cheeks."

Startled, you almost smack the tall intruder in his handsome face. "Oh fuck, sorry!" You bow as he barely dodges from your hands before he chuckles, bringing your flailing to a stop.

Your eyes land on the love handles peeking through his white cropped shirt.

Like a fish out of water, you blatantly ogle the dude, only to curse under your breath- first house rule, never ever check out the residents (at least openly) for several reasons, one of them being a violation of their dignity and privacy after everything they went through to get to this point.

But you couldn't help it! He easily towered over you and he was huge, like he ate protein shakes for breakfast every morning.

Clearing your throat, you hold out a hand in greeting. "I'm LN YN."

The attractive stranger nods taking your hand in his for a brief shake. "Kim Matthew, but you may call me BM."

You give him a genuine, welcoming smile. "Well then, BM, I hope you like your new home. The people here can be a handful, and crazy, and sometimes pushes all your buttons and smoke like they're sixty-five but they're all caring on the inside." You state plainly only to flush when you realize you were babbling.

You give a hasty bow, "Also, I'll be in your care from now on."

He grins, white canines glinting, the tear drop earrings he sported shimmers in the mid afternoon light streaming through the curtains as he pats your head consolingly almost amused at your little display and you look up at him shyly. "Likewise, YN."

You have a strong feeling you and him would get along just fine.

.

BM, as it turns out, became your bosom buddy even if you hadn't known him for long.

He was very well likeable and was basically good at everything, from cooking to building that cat dream house one of the matrons had always wanted, and writing poems that could rival Namjoon's, you were starting to think all beautiful people were blessed by the gods themselves.

And BM was really good at writing. Like insanely good.

So it isn't a wonder when one day, as you were raking leaves in the garden, he comes running out thrusting sheafs of paper against your face, getting you cross eyed as you tentatively take them from his excited grasp.

"I got in, YN!" He screams with giddiness and you stare confused only for your creased brows to unfurl, a giant smile lighting up your haggard demeanor.

BM had been accepted to Kyung Hee as a Literature Major under a scholarship.

The best part was, he would be sponsored to go to an Ivy League school of his choice as long as he kept his grades up.

"Woah, this is awesome!" You tell him, proud at his accomplishments as he basically lifts you up and twirls you around like you weighed nothing.

Having been a former stripper for a BDSM club, your friend didn't have many options in his career, most regarding him with an underlying sort of disgust, a used commodity but it seems the Literature department of your university thought he had great potential ahead of him if they were willing to go so far as to let him finish a Master's Degree abroad.

Once back in your feet, your beefy friend hesitates. "But... I'll be moving into the dorms before the semester starts."

You snort and smack him lightly on the chest, the only part reachable for your five foot, two inches. "Don't worry about me, dummy. I go to the same university too. Dorm visitations are allowed on weekends. And it's not like you can't just text me to meet up or something. "

He chuckles, but then his sharp eyes stray to somewhere behind you as he subconsciously grips your fingers in his. "Yeah, that's not what I'm worried about." He whispers seriously and you shoot a look at the middle aged man tottering a few steps away towards the sidewalk, as if he had just been caught peering through the fence.

You freeze. Who was that? This was the third time in a row you've caught him staring at you.

Somehow, and you don't know why but that behavior reminded you of the Bogeyman when you were younger.

You shuddered.

BM does not let you get home alone that night as he steadfastly refuses to let you drive alone. "I'll just take a cab on the way back." He says, tone final and you don't argue.

Knowing your friend for over a year now, his instincts for bad things were usually a little too spot on, (like that time you showed him a photo of an apartment you were looking into leasing which thankfully you didn't as turns out it was a trap house) having been honed by dealing with seedy and unsavory clients for almost half of his street rat years.

Maybe you should report that incident to the police just in case.

You give him a farewell kiss on the cheek and watch him walk the driveway, past the security who open the gates for him, and back into the shadows, only for you to stop in your tracks as you feel someone watching your backside (surely it wasn't the gatekeeper) and not wasting any time, you run into the house almost colliding into one of the boys dogs.

"Woof!"

You heave a sigh of relief as the brown poodle clings to your leg, tail wagging. "Holly, you scared me! " You coo only for her owner to come stumbling out into the foyer sleepily.

"Oh, you're back." He then frowns checking the clock on the wall and is fairly surprised that it's around two in the morning. He pauses awkwardly by the foot of the stairs. "...Had a hot date?" Yoongi drawls albeit uncomfortably, though you can't tell with the way his lips break out into his usual smirk.

You don't know why that gets to you, it's just a question, but it does anyway and with how tired you were the entire goddamn day and the lingering fear still rooted in your bones, a bit of light leaves your irises. "Eh." You shrug neither denying or confirming and brush past him, leaving Holly yapping in the background and her owner stumped because it was the first time you acted like you he was a roommate and nothing more.

Not a member of your makeshift family.

Not the man who hung the moon and the stars.

Not the man who broke your heart countless of times as he and his brothers came home looking thoroughly fucked and sated.

Nothing.

Frantic footsteps follow you, "...are you hungry?"

You stop and he stops, his dog in tow, sitting her butt on the marbled floor. "I'm sleepy. Good night, Yoongi. " Your tone borders on a heavy sort of finality and you trudge up to your room without another word, not caring a shit what he thought about you at the moment.

Maybe tomorrow would be better.

.

The next morning finds you buried bone deep in volunteer work.

It was Sunday, and with no boyfriend or social life outside of your boys you had offered to clean the old lake shed at the Hen House.

It was a dusty old shack if anything, filled with miscellaneous stuff old residents had left and some rusty machinery which could fetch a notable price at some obscure junkyard by the roadside.

If only you weren't alone (not discounting the receptionist and the cook who were always on duty) but the other staff had the day off and since most of the residents were capable of running the place anyway, they were left to their own devices.

You cough up a storm as the pile of books on the shelf topples, leaving you wheezing in a particle cloud of dust bunnies.

The shed may be grimy but it was pretty workable as it was small, big enough to fit at most four of you.

You huff, putting on a mask and hyping your spirits to do some shit cleaning because you were not going to leave this place without scrubbing every single inch, every nook and cranny until you were satisfied.

"Let's do this, YN."

It takes you approximately until seven into the evening to finish everything and you collapse in the now waxed and polished floor, muscles aching and moaning.

All things that could still be of use were boxed and taped up to be sent to the lost and found department just in case some of the residents wanted to 'dumpster dive'.

The stuff that were practically trash was going to be shipped off to the junkyard tomorrow. Recycle and all that shit.

With a tired whine, you allow yourself to partially doze off to slumber, only minutes later, something cold taps your ankle until long fingers are grasping them and you jump up, shrieking in shock.

The old man you had seen with BM last night was here. Inside the shed. With you.

Shit!

Before you can even run out to call for help, a force yanks you back and you land on the hardwood with a thump.

You refuse to look anywhere but at him, thinking this was the way you were going to die and you'd rather not hold the face of your murderer in the afterlife lest you never find peace, only for him to practically bend abnormally close down to your level.

You gasp when you are left staring at milky white orbs and yellowed rotten teeth, "Save me." The old man gasps and you scream.

END OF FLASHBACK

🔮

YOONGI POV

He hates you.

Well, he actually doesn't.

He was annoyed, irritated, with the fact that you were hugging a man twice the size of the Sigma leader.

And he was a fucking dwarf compared to the guy's bulging pectorals.

"YN?!"

He growls lowly, though the only people who heard were his brothers as you climb the big buffoon like he wanted you to climb his dick.

Something gnaws at his chest, straining, making his insides blaze with unbridled fury and bitterness as he witnesses how happy you looked, something he --they have never seen on you before.

And it hurts.

It fucking hurts.

"Guys, this is BM! He's a good friend of mine!" You wave them over, glowing and positively beautiful that the twinge grows deeper, like a knife stabbed him in his lungs.

A friend? He's never heard of this BM. Not until now. Dread fills his already fucked up emotional spectrum solely thanks to you.

Just how much of your life outside of them did they miss?

He glances at the others who mirror the same kind of trepidation as they all survey the gothic structure, the concrete seemingly intimidating even as they were used to grandeur.

There was something eerie about this place and if you had been working here for a long time right under their noses, he doesn't even want to imagine what kind of horrors you faced.

And as you pull them all in to meet curious faces, he swallows, hiding his disdain as he realizes just how far away you were from them.

Fuck.

They fucked up.

Next chapter

🔮

Chapter taglist

@potaetopic @yoongiigolden @missseoulite @reallysparklychaos

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous Chapter

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Implied low self esteem, mentioned panic attacks and anxiety, implied emotional neglect by best friends, supporting character short death flashback

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 7: The Ghost Witch

A/N. In honor of stopping the spread of Asian hate, and to celebrate the start of Bangtan's entry into being more widely known not only for their music, but also for their civic involvement in all things that matter, I dedicate this chapter to a much newer beginning.

🔮

People say happiness is a choice.

But what if...just what if you try to choose to be happy, try being the word, and yet you can't seem to feel anything but a constricting sort of self imposed rejection?

Or maybe it's just your anxiety killing you.

You've had panic attacks before, and you hated it--it's like being trapped between the chasm of falling down the stairs but you just hang there loosely, never falling until your breaths go back to normal and your brain rewires on its own, only to go back to that same dreadful feeling the next day, over and over and over again.

But anxiety...anxiety is on a whole other level.

It never leaves.

You have never had a therapist before. Unlike Yoongi, you weren't so keen on opening up to your parents when you were a kid (and even now as an adult, you don't delve into serious topics whenever they visited). What could you say?

"Hey, mom and dad. Nice to see you. Did you know that your daughter isn't happy with herself so much she can't stand to look at the mirror some days?"

Highly unlikely.

Besides, in your family, showing mental weaknesses will only get a scoff and some long drawn out double lecture about 'when I was your age, I didn't have that kind of shit to deal with'.

And yet you were tired.

Existing was just tiring sometimes.

"You're thinking too much, mouse. "

You startle at the new voice, eyes shooting to stare at the spectre floating above you, your arms finding their way against the cool sheets of your bedroom.

Or former bedroom?

Well you weren't dead. Not yet anyway.

It was just weird to think about having your two bodies in two places at once.

The comatose one currently at MyeongDong Hospital connected to life support, and you in your ghost form or spirit form or whatever the fuck you were in the Bangtan's residence.

Moon Byul, ethereal in her white kimono and long red hair (a trait that would have had any man, particularly your best friend Yoongi bedding her faster than even Jungkook can run and that boy runs fast).

It had been two days since the seance and Eugene had all but left you to your own devices.

That is, have Byul hang around for awhile until you eventually woke up in your corporeal body.

She did say she was going to be your unofficial ghost guide.

You sigh, turning your head to stare at her pretty face. It was a shame really that she had died so young.

According to her brother, Byul had always been sickly as a young girl, and had long since known when her time was up --it was a trait passed down from the females of Yang to the next generation.

Grim reaper's eyes he had said.

And so one day, while it was storming wildly, Byul just drove out to sea and drowned herself.

It was a pretty morbid way to go.

"Tell me what you're thinking about, mouse. " Byul hovers to the side.

Her voice surrounds you like a siren underwater. Cool and soothing is what she is.

You had never met Byul before until now but you did see pictures of her all over the Yin Yang Quatro.

Eugene doesn't talk about her much, probably hurt over the fact that she chose to die and leave him alone, but with what little you could gather, the briefest tremble in his voice told you a lot about his love for his only blood relative.

"Just...how we're going to go about things tomorrow. " You confess, twirling your hair distractedly.

The ghost hums, floating over to take a good look at your face and you blush. It isn't everyday that a beautiful ghost looks at you like that! Particularly not one who is in league with the Bangtan boys' in terms of being a god send.

She pokes your nose, another habit you've noticed she does while often with you (or as often as the day she nearly gave all seven of your best friends an aneurysm by dashing towards you as if to attack).

"Don't worry, mouse. The ghosts associated with every memory you have in this community are not savage creatures. The only dark entities are the ones beyond the veil where I come from, and I have yet to sense one of them."

The at least for now is unspoken and that's what makes you shudder.

"Oh, you're fading, mouse. " She lightly grumbles, irritated but not at you.

True enough, your fingers become transparent, only to go back to its undisturbed, solid state once Byul touches your hand.

Perhaps that was the thing about having Byul as your spirit.

Eugene had explained that the planes of where you are now were conflicting, hence you were merely limited to a human form for a couple of hours until you would eventually fade away.

It was the limit of Eugene's strange abilities--he can't make people rise from the dead (nor from a coma apparently), but what he can do, is make them visible to their loved ones if the desire of the person was strong enough to sustain one's soul.

Your desperation to come back to your best friends was what helped you over come being stuck in a spirit form.

At least for a good while.

All good things must come to an end, you suppose and by then, only Yoongi for some odd reason was the only one who could get a sense of you.

Maybe because he was the most emphatic out of all of them despite him keeping to himself most of the time.

When he wasn't loving girls and leaving them that is.

"Thank you," you murmur, feeling the after effects of Byul's energy.

"Sleep, mouse." She says, and your lids flutter shut.

🔮

You awake to arguing.

"Stop, don't open those fucking blinds, she might disappear!"

Rolling to your side, the heated whispers cease as a hand caresses your cheek.

"Forgive us, baby. You can sleep more if you're tired, yeah?"

Blinking back the dimness of the room, you hoist yourself up to mild protests, arms coming to encircle your shoulders as you properly take a good look at the people inside your bedroom.

Seven shadows shift awkwardly, one letting go of the curtains just as the dust mites dancing in the light seeping through from your large french windows settle down into nothingness.

Oh.

"Guys? What are you doing here? Don't you have to be at the company?" You question, wondering if they skipped training with the staff.

Your boys were after all the brains behind the KMJP Industries, an affiliate of their adoptive father's huge billion dollar conglomerate even while doing university and you know they were working themselves to the bone recently to produce new tracks for contracted foreign artists and some other related stuff.

It was such bad timing that you got injured and you somehow felt guilty about taking precious time away from them.

From the corner of your eye, you spot a Starbucks bag and can't help but wrinkle your nose at the smell.

"That smells like shit," you blurt, only to shut your mouth at the realization that the boys might have brought you dinner, and you were being relatively ungrateful.

But...could you even eat at this point?

Eyeing the caramel macchiato and bread that Namjoon was slowly pulling out to sniff with furrowed brows, you decide you can't even if you want to.

Because it smells fucking rotten. What the fuck.

Suddenly, Hoseok shouts as Byul glides through the walls, "Mouse, don't eat anything. "

You hide a nervous chuckle as Namjoon nearly drops the bagel and coffee, only for Jimin to catch the entire thing and hand it over to Jin who promptly takes a whiff in mild consternation.

"But...it smells fine?" He mumbles more to himself than you and you look to Eugene's dead sister for explanation.

She flips her hair daintily before taking a hover to her new spot in the corner. "To you it does, human. But to her, it will smell sour and unappetizing, as she is trapped between wakefulness and death, her senses will not work properly. Even I cannot predict what she might feel about random everyday objects. "

Ever the curious pup, you hum with an ask, "What does it smell like to you, Byul?"

She shrugs after a moment and you realize the boys were as curious to know the answer as you were. "Like nothing. I am already dead and everything connected to my past self has left my memories like dust. "

You frown. "Oh, but you still remember Eugene though?"

She smiles at you mysteriously. "My brother is not a part of my past. He is a part of my present and always will be. "

Does that mean--oh. Oh!

You remember Eugene having once told you back when he had to leave you alone to manage Yin Yang Quatro not to worry about intruders as you wouldn't be alone.

You assumed he meant his pet dog Kimchi.

But now you are starting to think otherwise.

So Byul still haunted the place, huh.

It would've creeped you out, but seeing as you're on the way to following her footsteps if you couldn't get back, it was like you weren't even afraid at all.

Byul had this calming effect about her that made your heart serene. If anything, you might just marry Byul in the after life if things didn't work out with the boys.

You think you saw a twitch on the seven men's faces but ignore them entirely in favor of your specter.

She leans forward from her position against the wood, "I scouted the perimeter, and we are going to start with the shelter, if that's alright with you, YN?"

Byul switches topics fast and you can't help but freeze, alerting the boys to your discomfort.

The youngest three immediately gravitate towards you, glaring at Byul.

The shelter?

"What do you mean the shelter?" Hoseok frowns.

You had never worked at any shelter before as far as they know.

You gulp.

Here's the thing.

Although the boys spoiled you for everything, not even letting you pay a dime for groceries, and even giving you an allowance apart from the money your parents sent and your two part time jobs, you had been roped into taking a third not because you needed to but because you wanted to.

"The, um...it's," you exhale loudly, causing all men to shift their concerned gazes to you. "It's a facility for homeless people. "

They sigh in relief. "Oh. That does not seem so bad?" Taehyung hums in light appreciation, though he can't help but wonder if the money they were giving you wasn't enough.

The others seem to think so as Yoongi questions, "Do you...work there?"

Of course they wouldn't know.

They didn't know about Eugene, nor did they know about your apartment.

The only job they were aware of (and of which you had to beg them to let you work in) was at Starbucks.

You shrug. "It's a voluntary kind of thing. "

You try to hide your grimace as Byul raises a well sculpted brow at you (how the fuck does a ghost have perfect eyebrows on?!).

"You didn't tell them?"

They swivel to her and you wince.

"YN?" Jin's no nonsense tone sends you spiralling into a sort of dreaded abyss as sweat breaks out of your chin.

Forcibly closing your eyes, you tip your head back already feeling an oncoming head ache.

"It's a home for prostitutes. I occasionally help out."

You cover your ears at the multitude of angry outbursts, having had already expected it in the first place.

If this is how they would react to that little tidbit in your life, you wonder how you would even go through all of your memories with them, much less talk to ghosts at this rate.

This was troublesome.

FLASHBACK

"What do you mean they have to be the ones to learn everything about her? Can't she learn it herself?" Eugene runs a hand through his handsome face.

"...okay that is an absurd statement, I retract. But! But isn't that an invasion of privacy in your ghost world rules or something, sis?" He gripes, uneasy about the entire thing. Your boss cared about you to that extent.

Byul could only smirk. "If you're worried about her, just think about the results. Those men of hers don't seem to know a thing outside of the life they had created for her inside this house. "

Eugene pauses. "So basically you're telling me that YN has to open up to them so they could collect every fragment shard of her soul that's somehow being absurdly kept by a bunch of your ghost friends in the netherworld? And it has to be those seven assholes?"

"Yes. "

"...Fine. You all heard that?" He glares at the seven men while you merely shrink back behind Eugene, trying your best to avoid all the eyes on you.

At this point, you just wanted the ground to grow a mouth and swallow you whole.

Because you were about to let Bangtan Sonyeondan in on every little secret you had kept from them all these years.

"If only you hadn't been fucking around, this would be a lot easier." Eugene lowly mutters but you hear and you couldn't have agreed more.

If only.

FLASHBACK END

Next chapter

🔮

Chapter Taglist

@potaetopic @yoongiigolden @missseoulite

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter. Previous NSFW chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Just cussing

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

A/N. Hi. I lied. I can't seem to stop updating oh my goodness lmao. Do enjoy and tell me what you think. Don't be afraid to comment, I don't bite. Also, I can't seem to stop playing Spy x Family's Ending Theme in my mind on a loop help me.

Chapter 6: The One with the Magic

🔮

The drive to your house had been filled with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, and as the nine of you were now seated around the classy living room of the Bangtan mansion, you nervously await the gavel to hit the podium.

"I won't lie. This is a fucking nice house." Eugene sips his red wine as if tasting any sort of imperfections, ranking it, undecided whether it was one of the best he's had or the worst he's hated but you know your boss loves cheap wine more than anything and so you bite your lip in anticipation, unaware that the small action was so enticing some of your companions had to shift to hide the growing outlines beneath their pants.

Once he sets his glass down at the coffee table however, Seokjin who couldn't take it anymore tugs Yoongi who gratefully tags along with him to the kitchens with a measly excuse of preparing dinner, while the rest are left to be fed to the wolf.

Namjoon is especially fearing for everyone's safety, measuring the gravity of the circumstances as his eyes dart to yours in a sort of plea-- your employer had taken it upon himself to sit by you and any advances on the boys' parts might be taken as a sign of aggression.

At least for the tarot master.

The Bangtan leader clears his throat awkwardly. "So...welcome to our home, sir. "

The maknae line are teetering on the edge of their seats, and you know they'd rather chop onions or clean shit out of the toilets than be an audience to this escalating persecution. Because you know and they know that men in red lipsticks and expensive silk suits did not come to play.

Not when the verdict wasn't out yet.

Eugene claps his hands, a sharp contrast to the tense silence enveloping the room and all backs straighten. You could practically hear their balls recede while the noises in the kitchen come to a pause before restarting with much fake alacrity.

"Let's get down to business, boys. Time is of the essence after all. " He fishes out what looks to be his favorite oracle card set (all gilded in emerald green) and a scrying pendant, a real amethyst triangular stone dangling from the silver chain.

You gulp. If he's brought that then--shit!

You briskly flicker your stare to the occultist in disbelief and as if the boys all sense your nerves, Seokjin and Yoongi pop in, bringing forth appetizers all while inching a bit to where you were, flanking behind you in the couch.

They wore matching black cat aprons that were it not for the gravity of the situation, you would find it hilarious.

They all warily stare at the deck of cards in his hand, having never seen one before.

Your lovely boss hands the pendant to you and you catch it, eyes watching your every movement. "Eugene, this is--"

"Shush, child and let the master begin. "

Oh shit, he is serious.

Okay.

You forcibly do not breathe for a second or two as the show commences.

"WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK?!"

Bellows, screams, and shouts all mingle in one moment as the Yin Yang Quatro's floor master spreads the cards in the air, floating them to a steady position in front of him one by fucking one like some fascinating magical performance one would pay good money for on any given day.

The only one unfazed here is you however having been privy to his skills countless of times for his high end clients such as politicians and celebrities, as you contain a sigh--Eugene was flashy but you loved him for it anyway.

Ignoring the hands at your shoulders as if to protect you from whatever the fuck was going on, you focus instead as three cards come to a stop in front of you.

You open your palm upwards and they readily reveal themselves to you.

These were his phrase Oracle cards so the meanings were pretty clear in the reading:

To move forward you should not let things be.

Okay, pretty damn straight.

Beware neglect for it shall cost you a fee.

Neglect? Does it mean that you have a time limit or something? Well shit.

You read the last card, eyes widening in shock.

Love will save you.

What the fuck! These seven men don't even love you! At least not that you know of.

You don't think they even like you in the romantic sense?

The occultist tilts his head to the side, seeming to consider for a moment before snapping his wrist and the cards fly back neatly in a pile in his hand.

Several gasps resound once again as he keeps the deck back inside his suit pocket and checks his watch. He nods minutely, all the while you eye the pendant which has now taken on a silver hue.

That was definitely purple a second ago.

"Doll, if you would?" Eugene gestures to your neck and you immediately clasp it around yourself to the light protests of your boys -who knows what the fuck that necklace does!- who instantly shut their mouths with one look from the tarot master himself.

He stands, circling the room as you all remain watchful before he's kneeling down on the center rug, tracing patterns over it with his index finger, mumbling phrases which only you were now familiar with.

At your small gasp, you are hauled against a sturdy chest --Yoongi-- while Jin's broad shoulders shield you. The rest of the room have given your boss a wide berth to do his shit.

And when he finishes, you flinch feeling your necklace heat up only for you to get practically flung to the center to everyone else's extreme concern but yours and Eugene's.

Your bare feet land on the soft mass of carpet, a circle of light surrounds your frame, before it vanishes just as quickly.

And then a ghostly form shimmers into existence.

"Hi, Byul. Long time no speak." Eugene smirks, as the long haired witch narrows her gaze at him.

You gulp. This was Moon Byul, the former owner of Yin Yang Quatro, Eugene's estranged sister and someone who was supposed to be dead.

Eugene turns to you cheerily. "No one better who could help than a real ghost, huh?"

You hear someone (might be Hoseok) faint in the background.

This was going to be a long evening.

Next chapter

🔮

Chapter taglist

@potaetopic

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

Main mlist. Previous chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Sickness, Cussing, Implied drug use , Implied manwhoring around

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 5: The Neighbor (and friends) Across the Hall

A/N. Hello there. Am I dropping chapters too quick? Anyway, I let this chapter basically write itself and it ended up surprisingly good. But I may not be updating again for this week as I wrote this chapter with a head ache and I may be out of commission for awhile. We'll see. Hope you enjoy! Comment for taglist. :)

ALSO. A BIG THANK YOU TO ALL WHO HAVE READ AND ARE READING THIS SERIES. 감사합니다! 🔮

FLASHBACK

Like claws raking horribly against a chalkboard, you hold back a grimace, lips down turned from the overcast shadows looming before you, a sign of doom or at most the barbie league club from the drama department who could only afford the cheapest drink they could get at their local Starbucks.

Icy blue irises roam over the standard uniform you and every employee in this branch were forced to don --fitted green shirt and baggy corduroy pants-- and as if the devil himself reincarnates, she tips the cup of her Teavana with a flick of the wrist, the contents spilling all over the place and your ears burn as she gives you a lame 'oops, how clumsy of me'.

The other patrons are glaring at the girls to leave like the bunch of idiotic menaces they were and when they finally do (but not without giving you the finger), your shoulders sag, a heavy sigh escaping your lips just as your manager inches his way towards you, shaking her head as she helps by handing you the mop.

"This is coming out of your paycheck unfortunately," she mutters under her breath before going back to her station.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears (you were already feeling a bit rundown due to the non stop rain and you had several papers due tonight) and now this.

Can't you just catch a break?

Some of the more long term patrons offer you consoling glances as you pass them by to go clean up and you shoot them a tired but grateful smile nonetheless.

Once you're done with things, you go back to the counter to tend to the next batch of customers, hoping they weren't as mean to you as those blonde bimbos had been.

-

They say time flies by quickly when you're happy doing what you love but to say you loved working was an overstatement.

It's not like you were poor. You came from a good and loving family (despite your parents being gone all the time) with money, and one word to them would leave you with a few thick bills in your disposal.

But you didn't want to remain dependent, stemming from a mindset that you were an only child and you would eventually (and sadly) have to learn to navigate your entire rest of your life once your parents are gone.

Hence you wanted as much practice as you could get.

However, with merely an undergraduate, not many high paying jobs will take on a college student buried in loans, so you took to the streamline and applied at the nearest Starbucks.

You loved the smell of coffee anyway and though you weren't a barista, you were quite efficient at pushing buttons so you've been told.

In the least, you liked your job but not enough to be willing to stay after hours, so when Kai comes in for the next shift, you happily hand your apron over to him. "Here, good luck!" You singsong and get the fuck out of there, not giving your friend a chance to respond mainly because he looked even grumpier than you had been going in to work.

It was still raining even if it was already half past ten in the evening (yes, your boss operated twenty four seven), and you hazard a glance at your phone to see whether any of your best friends had even bothered to check in.

Well no, apparently not. Though your other boss, Eugene, (yes, you had two jobs because student loans are fucking killer) did tell you not to come in tomorrow as the energy in the shop was not going to be pleasant and you send him a response, already knowing that he's chastising you in his own weird way to get the day off because he knew you got sick easily when it got cold.

With a shiver, you run to your car, umbrella in hand and turn on the heat at full blast once inside.

Anyone who asks you how you could afford an expensive ride with a cashier's daily wage, you just shrug and let them assume you were a sugar baby. It was more fun that way.

You sneeze before you could even step on the pedal, and you grow nervous, hand feeling your forehead. Well at least you weren't running a fever. But you did feel a bit dizzy...

Ignoring the slight discomfort, you blend through the highway traffic, hoping you don't faint.

-

You don't faint. In fact you nearly faint and hastily park your vehicle to an emergency stop clearing where fewer cars drove through.

Harsh water pelts the roof of the Bentley and you wish you brought your noise cancelling earphones to at least drown out the low, metallic rumble from the now full on thunderstorm.

Afraid of getting hit with one of those stray lightnings, you had kept away from any trees and instead held yourself front and center in an open field where a murderer in a mask would most likely drag you to Christ knows where.

Not feeling up to continuing risking your health, you ask one of the guys to come get you but you are merely left on read.

Fuck.

It was an hour to midnight and you don't think it was safe for women to be out by themselves in the middle of nowhere. Groaning, you gently lay your head on the cool window, when your phone rings.

Renewed hope wells within you only to be shot down with a flaming arrow when Taemin's voice bounces from the other line. "Heya, neighbor!" He chirps a little too enthusiastically for your liking.

Your head was already pounding and it doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon.

You hum lightly, tracing invisible circles in the air and he instantly notices. "YNie? Are you okay? You don't sound so hot. "

"Well, I am cold..." You murmur, closing your lids for a brief moment for respite from the drudgery of it all.

You can hear a few people in the background and Taemin shuts them up, baritone serious as if just then remembering that you were a sickly goose. "Oh shit, are you somewhere dry and warm? Baby, where are you?"

"Is that Kai? Did he manage to skip work and go to that stupid Beta Tau Sigma party after all?"

"No, now I said shut your mouths, didn't I?" Your sweet neighbor calls out with a lowly growl, something you haven't heard for a long time, and all laughter ceases.

Woah. That's hot.

And wait, you didn't hear about any type of parties happening with Bangtan tonight? If you would they would have told you and you would have been a good girl and not gotten in their way (that is lock yourself in your room but leave through the fire escape and sleep over at your own apartment, possibly hang out with Taeminie and binge watch a few Netflix episodes of Kotaro lives alone).

Beta Tau Sigma threw subtle parties where alcohol was plenty and sometimes women and drugs were involved. You had to learn weed butter recipe for the guys at some point just so Jin wouldn't strangle the maknaes for basically slaughtering every carton of milk they could find in the kitchen to curb their failed attempts at churning a presentable lump of pimped dairy.

You loved your best friends to death (and are in love with them sadly) but the Beta Tau Sigma fraternity tended to go all out at house gatherings and you'd rather not accidentally intrude in case one of them decides fucking someone in your home was fine.

Especially if it were one of your boys. Well not your boys. Anyway.

Gathering what little strength you have left as the drowsiness was taking over, you clumsily send your coordinates to your friend on the other end of the line.

A bellow reaches your ears and you shy away from the angry voice. "You are fucking where?! Stay there, YN. Like hell you're going back home in that condition. "

Huh? Did you tell him you were sick or something?

"Okay," you mumble, unaware that you were succumbing to sleep.

-

"Shit, she's burning up!"

"Hurry, pass me that cold pack!"

"Anyone started on the hot broth yet?"

"Yeah, over here. "

"When the fuck is Kai coming back with the cold medicine?"

Blearily, your eyes open a millimeter, only to close once more as they feel heavy under the bright lights.

Who were these people again?

"Taemin-hyung, here."

A brief mumble of thanks and then a wet cloth is pressed to your forehead. Instantly, you feel so much better already from the feel of the coolness.

"Ravi, can you..."

"Yeah, here."

Someone helps you up gently, arms roped around your shoulders as you are put in a sitting position. Something hard slides between your lips followed by water and you subconsciously gulp whatever it was down.

You cough a bit only for hands to scrabble at your back in up down motions and then you're lying on the softest bed you have ever felt.

"Taemin, I can take it from here. You go help Sungwoon with the chicken soup. "

In the distance, rushed footsteps are heard as a door opens and closes with a click. The footsteps get nearer and a voice you recognize as your friend Kai's comes barrelling through with a whisper. "Where is she? Oh shit, YN. I'm so sorry I didn't notice earlier!"

A hand touches your burning cheek and you nuzzle into it.

"Did you tell them?"

"What?"

" Bangtan. "

"Fuck no. I mean I ran into Jimin awhile back, they were picking up some food as I was leaving and when I asked if YN got home okay, they weren't even aware she had left already. "

A sigh and then you are shifted to the left as a weight on your right settles, hands coming to stroke your hair.

"No shit? If I ever come across Bangtan, I am pummeling their pretty boy faces. How could they leave her like this? All for a fucking house party? I'm so glad I refused Park Jimin's invitation to join all those years ago. "

The hand in your hair pauses. "...It's uh, I think they have weed in there so they might be high for a bit. That may explain why they're pretty much out of it. "

"Honest to God if they ditched her for a fuck, I will murder them. "

Murmurs of agreement float through the room and your brain shuts down, not even thinking about the entire conversation you've overheard.

Not until the next morning where you are left alone with your thoughts (your friends had their own lives and own work so you couldn't fault them for leaving you unattended--at least they made a mean breakfast and set up your bath and even gave you a change of spare clothes and some medicine to go with it) and decide to run to Yin Yang Quatro, teary eyed and heart broken because not one of Bangtan had even left a text.

Guess your friendship with the seven men wasn't that important after all.

END OF FLASHBACK.

🔮

Now Taemin wasn't a vindictive person.

He wasn't also one to be easily angered.

In fact, he was the most patient out of all of his friends.

And yet when it came to YN, his neighbor, his friend, he would do anything for her.

In fact they (Sungwoon, Ravi, and Kai) would be willing to walk through fire for her.

It was a pact they took once they decided to help the unconscious girl behind their apartment's trashcan whom they would later come to know as YN, the most beautiful human being on earth, inside and out.

So when rumors of her getting smashed and cut with the art club's glass prop started circulating, he had to find out.

And now the four of them were standing before her hospital bed, emotions simmering wildly under the promise of hurting whoever did this to her.

Kai especially was quiet and the guy hardly had nothing to say. Not with his affiliation to Beta Tau Sigma as some sort of honorary member.

"Did they come visit her yet?" Sungwoon asks through gritted teeth as he stares off into space, refusing to acknowledge the reality in front of him so soon.

Ravi frowns as he surveys the damage on YN. Bandaged head, patched up cheeks, and bandages all over her arms and hands. Shit. How was she going to continue working if she woke up? "Yeah. The doctors said they did. "

Taemin, for all the anger bubbling up inside of him was quick to stamp it out like a lighted cigarette. Cancer sticks they say. "Good. One less fly off the wall. "

"Or seven. "

Eyes flash deadly. If there was one thing they were going to do, they were going to search for YN's soul and bring her back.

They knew YN. They knew everything about her. And they accepted it all. Even if she were to be haunted by some old woman's ghost or whatever.

Even if they had to make a deal with the devil himself.

They loved her that much.

They were going to have to make a quick trip to Yin Yang Quatro.

Eugene Lee Yang might be the answer to their problems.

Next chapter.

NSFW Chapter Filler.

🔮

Chapter Taglist

@potaetopic

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Minor cussing, Implied self deprecration but very slight

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 4: The Fairy Godmother

FLASHBACK

Twiddling your thumbs inconspicuously wasn't such a good idea after all as your employer's sharp gaze pierces you right in your jaded soul.

You didn't mean to sound so cynical and judging from his tells, Eugene wasn't too happy with you, or at least with how you viewed yourself.

His manicured nails beckon you forward and you gulp, eyes darting to the pile in front of you-- Eugene Lee Yang, tarot master and occultist, absolutely hated it when his readings were disrupted but once you came in through his door looking for all the whole disgusting world like a damned drenched train wreck, eyes bugging out with tears leaking to your puffy cheeks, he pauses, red lips pinched looking for an explanation which you give.

You fidget in your seat by his raglan couch, the sign by the door right below the Yin Yang Quatro's flashy neon label saying 'Closed for business', as you silently try to assess a quick look at the spread laid out on the table.

One death card and two other major arcana.

Whoever the client was, the universe was basically telling him or her to fuck off from the situation and just let things be.

Yikes.

"Baby girl, look at me. " He gripes and you flinch, staring at his kohl rimmed eyes.

Your boss was a very hot man, and if he wasn't gay you would have considered your options but he was happily married to a wonderful husband and you were stupidly in love with the seven banes of your existence.

Hence the tears.

"So you're telling me, that those stupid boys left you to fend for yourself while you were sick in bed?" He hums when you nod your assent meekly, sharp jaw twitching with annoyance as his fingers tap lightly over his silk jacket. "Were they aware?"

You shake your head, "I mean I did send them a text but I was left on read. Maybe they were just busy or something. "

Eugene snaps his narrowed gaze to you and you gulp. "Huh. Busy. So you were seriously completely alone?"

Another shake of the head. "Some friends took care of me back at my own apartment so..." You trail off unsure if throwing Taemin into the mix with his consent was okay.

Eugene may be fairly strict with the shop rules but when it came to his employees, you in particular, he was an overprotective mama bear and anyone--rather, any man's name mentioned by you was automatically on his watch list.

Your boss pretends to ignore the friend part for a moment, "I see. And you don't think you deserve any of their attention when you've been nothing but a good friend and room mate to them?"

"That's not--"

Eugene holds a hand up to shush you. "Not yet done speaking, doll." He sighs. "YN, you know I despise little girls without any backbone. What, you don't think you're beautiful enough to be appreciated by a bunch of fuckboys? Bitch, you don't need them. You don't need their attitude. You're a queen. Act like it. " He sniffs daintily.

You give him a watery giggle and he smirks.

"Besides, if they so much as leave you high and dry one of these days, I will go to your house and castrate them inch by fucking inch."

Nothing could compare to an angry Yang boss.

END OF FLASHBACK

"Who the fuck are you?" The Beta Tau Sigma member frowns, arms tightening around you as his brothers close in forming a protective ring around the both of you and your physical body peacefully settled on the hospital bed.

The visitor merely raises a perfect, delicate brow, canine teeth bared for a moment only to recede when his irises pierce yours, and as if a magnetic pull traps you, you subconsciously fly--float to the stranger. " Eugene!" You bleat happily, arms looping around the man's lean shoulders.

Today he was wearing a baby blue silk coat and long skirt, looking for all the world like a top runway model. His red lips land on your hairline. "Hello, doll." He coos and everyone, the Min included, stands stock still as the dress you had been wearing shimmers in the light like an ethereal pixie.

"Holy shit. Was that YN?!" Jeongguk, the wide eyed buck that he was furiously looks to the space where you presumably stood and back to your body with mild hysterics until one of his hyung's, Seokjin was it, lightly knocks him upside the head.

"But hyung she just--"

Seokjin frowns. "Yes we all saw. It's just...difficult to wrap our heads around the thought that two YNs are here. "

Jimin, having had dried his tears long ago speaks up with a much clearer voice directed at Eugene. "I'm sorry, but we've known YN since we were kids and I'm afraid we haven't seen you around before...sir?" He hesitates contemplating whether he was using the correct gender noun.

A sharp laugh echoes within the cramped space of the hospital room, and the boys shift awkwardly, some seeming anxious at the tone the other man had taken.

You let go of your boss and reluctantly float back to the others, Yoongi snatching you up to his side, pushing you behind him with a grim stare at the newcomer.

You remember that Eugene isn't dangerous to you.

But Eugene Lee Yang was dangerous to those he disliked.

And it appears your boys weren't faring well in that department.

So with a grimace, you stick closer to Yoongi, ready to tug him just in case your boss decides to chuck his expensive shoes against someone's head in his wrathful wake.

Of course he would be mad.

You couldn't count the number of times he'd witnessed you cry over these men you were now trying to cover for.

With all the lip chewing you were immersed in, someone addresses the huge elephant rearing its trunk over all of you.

"That question aside, what is happening here--uh, sir?" Hoseok is quick to beat his brothers to the punch, although quite warily.

He wasn't going to be disrespectful to possibly the only person who could give a fucking explanation to everything. He had a gut feeling that whoever this man was, was someone who could help YN and he wasn't taking any chances just so YN can recover fast.

He didn't think he could live another week without being blessed with your lovely smile.

He actually fucking missed you already even if you were right here in spirit.

Eugene quirks a brow but his lips curl up in a genuine smile directed at the resident sunshine, and although he knew that all of them contributed to a majority of YN's sadness, this Hoseok was the least guilty from what he's heard so far.

"Jung Hoseok I presume?" Eugene asks and the boy stammers out an affirmative response. "Charmed. Yes, well. Before I answer any of your questions, YN if you would?" He gestures to you and you reach for him despite Yoongi's quiet protest.

He didn't like you leaving him for some other man no matter who they are.

Two things happen simultaneously as soon as you touch the Yang boss's hands.

You feel a heavy weight settle over you, as if you were being pulled down by gravity.

And then your bare foot touches the hard, cold, bleached tiles one after the other and you shiver with a soft squeak.

"HOLY SHIT YN?!"

A chorus of quaky gasps fill the air and then you are swept up into the nearest person's arms, this time Taehyung's.

You turn your smooshed cheeks from your holder and shoot a glance at the Yang boss with pure joy. "H-how?"

Eugene smiles at you gently. But then he sighs, the shadows appearing on his face aging him for a bit, a tick in his jaw forms and he rolls his eyes. "Doll, you know I'm magical. But that's beside the point. " He sharply claps his hands garnering command at everyone's undivided scrutiny.

Eugene was like that. Commanding with his presence at every turn.

"Gentlemen, if you could, I would love to be invited to your home as we have much to talk about as regards YN's current...state. "

Namjoon, ever the leader steps forward almost in an unconscious manner as if to assert his dominance, "As long as it will help YN, we are willing to do anything. "

Unexpectedly, the Yang boss doesn't laugh, doesn't mock them, only considers them for a moment and then looks at you. "I can see what you meant, darling." You flush for some reason and they all turn to look at you but your boss clears his throat, and straightens. "We don't have the luxury to waste any more time. For YN's sake, I suggest we go now. Because as of this moment, I am your fairy godmother and she's Cinderella. Once the clock strikes midnight, it's poof. If you catch my drift."

Faces pale at the insinuation.

Well shit.

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Implied Sex, Implied unrequited feelings, Minor cussing, Implied accident

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 3: The Boys from the Tree House

FLASHBACKS

The Always HARD-y Boys 😏

Namjoon

Hyungs, did you see where YN ran off to?

Yoongi

Not really, no. Why?

Jin

Of course you wouldn't. You're busy tapping some girl again, aren't you?

Yoongi

Try walking in on YN naked before you judge me. My dick isn't going to beat its own meat ya know

Namjoon

Okay, first off. Ew, hyung. Second, we've got an exam coming up unlike some people. 🙄

Jin

Yah, weren't you just shoving your own dick down someone else's throat a few weeks ago, Joon-ah?

Namjoon

This and that are two completely opposite matters. Also, ever seen YN touching herself in the tub before?

Yoongi

WHAT

Jin

Did you at least take a fucking picture?

Namjoon

Yah, hyung. Inside my brain. 😏

Yoongi

🖕🖕🖕

Jin

Yah.

Hobi

Ayyy, what did I miss?

🔮

Noona's McD's McNaes 🍦

McTaeTae

Noonaaaaa

YNoona

What kid

Chim's Burger

What she said

Gukie Spaghetti

Yeah

McTaeTae

I feel attacked.

Anyway, since you're all here, I need you to come meet me at the rec hall chop chop!

YNoona

Uh-oh, I smell photographer Vante

Chim's Burger

You're not going to make us do another weird cosplay shit again, are you?

Gukie Spaghetti

I'm out losers

McTaeTae

🥲🥲🥲

Why are you people so mean to me?

And no. We're doing normal stuff today.

I need it to boost my final GPA.

YNoona

...If you say so, then I guess I could come over right now.

Chim's Burger

...Fine.

Gukie Spaghetti

I swear to God if you're lying, hyung

🔮

Beta Tau Sigma

Taehyung

Image sent

YNie's breasts in this corset are just fantastic, aren't they? Feel so blessed 😇😌

Read by Namjoon and 5 others

🔮

Neighbors from across the hall

Taeminie

Hey, YN! Uh, I have some friends over and they don't fit in my apartment.

Just...is it possible for some of them to stay in yours?

I promise they're really neat and organized and are not robbers so...

YNie

Oh yah! Sure no probz. Key is still under the rug.

Taeminie

Oh yay! Thanks a bunch. I'll just wire you back for whatever they use and stuff.

Also have the bill receipts out for you by mail.

Image sent

I mean they've piled up pretty much.

YNie

Woah, shit I completely forgot lmao

You know, with finals and all.

Anywho...

No! Don't do that! My uh, family tends to go through my mail before I even get them and they have no idea I even own an apartment let alone somewhere not so nice... no offense to us.

I mean that's all I can afford so...

Yeah.

I'll just come over to pick them up tomorrow so can you keep them for now?

Taeminie

Oh! Oh, right! Right of course.

And not offended.

Our place is a fucking pig sty.

Not to worry, I'll definitely keep our dirty little secret a secret 🤭

YNie

Thanks, Taeminie! You're the bestest neighbor a girl could hope for.

I'll def bring you some of your favorite cereals as thanks for putting up with my drunken ass last week.

Taeminie

Yeah about that. Whoever those men are, they don't deserve your love, babe.

Haven't met them yet but I know they're grade A assholes even if they're your best friends.

I mean who the fuck ditches movie night with a beautiful girl like you for a horny one night stand?

Definitely won't be me. 😤

YNie

🥹🥹🥹

Aw thanks, Tae. That's so sweet.

At least they're not having sex inside the house.

That shit will hurt me even more.

Taeminie

...Are you maybe free tonight? Come down here earlier. Maybe we need to have another talk, love.

Self worth and all that jazz.

Because clearly you need to be reminded that you are a wonderful, gorgeous, human being.

YNie

Yes, please 🥹🥹🥹

🔮

Beta Tau Sigma

Yoongi

Hey, did YN come home yet?

Hoseok

Same question

Jin

Why? Finally ditched your women for her have you? 😏

Namjoon

Strange. I had my last class after hers so she should be here before me.

Jeongguk

Her car isn't in the garage?

Jimin

Wdym?!

Taehyung

Hey funny story. I think I just saw another Bentley right by Highway 54 ten minutes ago. Looked like YN's car?

And here I thought we gave her the and I quote "only one of its kind" edition? 🧐

Yoongi

What.

And yes, hyungie. It's movie night tonight, why wouldn't we not stop thinking with our god damn cocks for once?

Say that again Taehyung-ah?

Namjoon

Did you at least get the license plate?

Taehyung

Yeah, it's YN-0613...13...Hey wait

Hoseok

Isn't that YN's license plate????

Read by Jimin and 5 others

...where'd all of you go--guys?!!!

🔮

Yoongi curses as he scours the University's CCTV (he had befriended the guards with the amount of hours he spends inside the music studio and now he was privy to every recorded footage, yes even that one drunken mistake where Namjoon railed a chick in the library after hours), sharp eyesight staring at every car passing through the blurry screen.

His hair is so disheveled, lips bitten so roughly one would think he spent his time eating pussy when all he could think of was fucking finding you.

It was goddamned three in the fucking morning and you have yet to respond to all of their texts and miscalls.

Were you even alive godammit?!

You're usually not one to leave them hanging for anything so this behavior was a little bit worrying.

So help him if you were fornicating with some guy who wasn't pre-approved by him and the others---

He grits his teeth, blood boiling just at the thought of you fucking someone else for reasons he didn't want to dwell on.

Yet.

The rest of his brothers are nervously watching every little movement trying to just see if they could spot anything that would give an indication as to where you went exactly.

Only to be sorely disappointed when they spend a fruitless search leading them back home to wait for you.

But you don't show up until the very next day, grumpy and seated on a lonely bench inside the cafeteria while women instantly flock towards them before they could even get to you at that point.

And then you up and leave just as the youngest three manage to break the crowd that had formed and run after you...

Only, it was too late as they don't find you anywhere.

Next thing they know, your accident spreads around the school like wildfire, damaging the only peace that Bangtan Sonyeondan has protected at all costs.

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist. Previous chapter.

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn’t seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Cussing, Hospitals, Supernatural

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 2: The Girl in the Rafters

A/N. Italics for flashbacks and whispers.

At merely four years old, death came knocking at your doorstep.

You can still vaguely recall the white mesh, a sort of heavy sensation fluttering over you as soon as you closed your eyes, like a weighted blanket but instead of comforting your anxiety, pulling you in deeper through an unfamiliar ensconce of mist and river.

The healer said your soul was floating in between the wakeful consciousness of reality and the spirit world.

Anyone would have scoffed and relegated the wise old woman's mutterings to that of a lunatic, but not you.

You who were there.

You who were saved by seven men in white.

You who nearly drowned by invisible hands clawing at your shoulders, your back, your neck, all to take you to the depths of wherever.

You never wanted to relive that moment. For all it's mysticism, it rendered you bedridden, immobile and not living for a whole month at the least.

Your parents were nearly devastated.

They were frightened.

You were frightened.

So after you woke, the healer had advised you to leave that old, wretched place.

That house built upon slippery river stones and dried up bodies of soldiers long forgotten from the war.

A river of blood. Of suffering. Of ghosts.

Being religious people, your parents heeded the warning, packed what little things you had, and left.

To this day, you have never set foot in that house ever again and you don't dare to.

However, that was only the beginning of a traumatic experience in your young life.

Once your family was settled in a small one bedroom apartment (it was only much later when you were able to have a glimpse, a taste of the finer things that money could buy) in the uppermost story of your uncle's house by the dirtiest river you've ever seen, the hauntings continued for awhile.

There was a depression in your soul, something you could not pinpoint. Not even the doctors could determine what was going on with you.

Perhaps it was the river spirits out to get you once more.

Or maybe not.

And then one drunken evening, your older cousin (the son of your uncle) smashes your mother's face with his fucking fist after a brief argument, and in a furious move, you up and leave that fucking hellhole into a much quieter, much nicer suburban area just outside of town.

It may have been for the good of things, as the hauntings vanished. Your declining health stopped waning like the moon high in the sky on eerie nights, and you were happier.

Or happier as an only child with no friends could ever be.

That's when things changed.

You wouldn't know if it was for the better or worse, but perhaps a fated meeting was set in stone somewhere faraway, somewhere you didn't know where to look, that seven boys would barge into your peaceful mornings, all boisterous and loud.

You didn't get along with them at first.

They were Mr. Bang's local troublemakers.

Seven children who weren't related by blood but were bound by an invisible, unbreakable, impenetrable bond.

And that was the thing.

They didn't just let anybody who was nobody in.

Until you tripped on a rock on the side of the road in front of their stupidly grandiose gates, skinning your knees in your open sundress and righting yourself only to trip once more, this time hitting your forehead with a hard thump.

You didn't know whether to laugh at yourself or cry in disbelief when three boys around your age came rushing to help you up, two more dusting you off, while another two grabbed your hand and gently led you into the loveliest house you ever laid eyes on.

And when you could only offer a shy gap toothed smile, that cemented you in their lives and themselves in yours.

Floating in this void abyss, you wonder where they are now. Were they even missing you?

You groan as your head aches, the pain too much to bear, your thoughts becoming a jumbled haze.

Who were you thinking about again?

Without much difficulty, as if gravity didn't exist in this time and space continuum, you tumble seamlessly and land on your feet over a soft patch of what seemed to be your shadow.

Wake up, child.

Startled, your eyes flit to...somewhere because everything was black and empty.

They're waiting for you.

Who?

The question bubbles from the tip of your tongue.

No further answers are given as you are enveloped in a blinding light and thrust into the rafters of an all too familiar room, clean white walls, equally clean white ceilings, and the sounds of a heart monitor mixed with sniffles enter your ears like a harmonious cacophony of whimpers and sadness.

Suddenly, knuckles pop and you shrink in response to a vase toppling over and breaking, flowers all over the floor as water pools beneath someone's feet.

They don't bother cleaning it up, only dodging the mess.

Someone will come in to fix it later anyway.

There is a shuffle of movement and you realize with a heavy thump of your ghostly veins that you knew-- memorized the planes of that broad back, or the pale skin on that man, or those dimpled lips, or that forlorn glance hidden beneath curled waves.

Footsteps crash through the somber atmosphere and with a start, you recognize the three men practically panting to catch their breaths before one of them collapses onto his knees, snarling as his fearful gaze darts to the person on the bed.

Oh, that was you.

That was you wrapped in a lump of antiseptic, bandages and a white blanket.

And they were...

The broad shouldered man turns, eyes lidded and coarse and with soft touches leads the broken man on the floor next to you, the other two following almost robotically.

"Hyung what--" The tearful one croaks, and your heart squeezes for him for some reason. He looked like a hurt rabbit.

The palest man frowns, eyes never straying from your prone form, as if analyzing beats on a MIDI but couldn't quite get the desired placement. "She's just sleeping."

A hand pats his shoulder, a head shakes, before the tallest of them bleats, voice a deep dulcet tone and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring his soothing bass with a hum. "She..." A swallow. "YN's...she's not going to wake up anytime soon."

You echo their frowns.

Wake up? Why would you wake up? You were dead...right?

Eyes stray to the fallen daffodils on the cold tiles of the hospital room, each pair glistening over with what you could only determine as grief.

Why were they crying over you?

Why does your heart hurt seeing them like this?

You try to float over to them, to console their aching souls, and when you reach the first one, you skim your finger tips over his cat like features, as if to say "don't be sad".

"I'm here. Always." You whisper tentatively wondering if they can hear you at this point.

There isn't much of a reaction so you sigh.

Not thinking too much of it, you peck this one's cheek, pouring everything you have into that single touch.

"YN?!"

You jolt out of the man's way when he tries to reach for you, pupils wild in abject shock and anguish.

He can see you?

The others around him hold him in fear of what he might do to himself, thinking that he had gone beyond the bend with his torment.

"Yoongi-hyung!"

"Yoongi!"

You take a step back, memories flooding your subconscious or what's left of it anyway. "Y-Yoongi?" You whisper, tearing up. "What am I-- How can you---" You shake your head, just as the older man grabs your wrist and you involuntarily clench your eyes with a small whimper.

Yoongi doesn't let go, doesn't mind the others very concerned warnings, and pulls you to his chest as if you were a living bag of flesh and bones. "Baby, please come back."

You sniffle into his toned chest as he cries, struggling against several arms holding him back form something they couldn't fucking see. "I'm here. But I don't know how, Yoongi." You stare up at him. "I want to come home to you all. "

Yoongi sobs, kissing your forehead, your hair, your nose, "It's okay, princess. We'll figure this out. Just please, stay with me, okay?"

"Hyung..." Someone jostles him but Yoongi in his slightly distraught state lowly growls and the footsteps back away an inch.

"She's here. You can't see her, but she's here. In my arms right now. "

Hesitant, as if any sudden movements left would startle the older man like one would a feral cat, the tallest one(Namjoon, you think), slowly licks his dry lips (dehydrated from all the crying he did earlier), and croaks. "Okay, hyung. Okay, we will believe you. " He directs his stare to the space between his hyung's arms (because if it weren't a drastic situation, the pose would have been one for a comedic meme).

The rest shuffle warily, staring right at you but also unseeing and you scrunch your red nose.

Yoongi can't help but kiss it again and you bury your face in his armpit, earning a sultry laugh from the man.

God you missed him. His laugh. His smell. Everything.

Although bits and pieces were still coming to you, you know that these seven men were your entire fucking universe.

You've missed all of them.

How long has it been anyway?

You open your lips to ask the question when the sliding doors slam open, and an imposing figure clad in six inch boots and dark red lips looms over you. "Hello, gentlemen."

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose! Reader

Main mlist

Synopsis

You get into a freak accident and wake up to your body surrounded by seven crying men. Or your unrequited love doesn't seem so unrequited after all.

Chapter warnings

Angst, Panic Attacks, Cussing

Chapter Rating: T (For Teen Audiences and Up)

Chapter 1 : The Girl in the Attic

"You mother fucking bitch! You think I'm done with you?"

The empty screams from below are a sordid wake up call to your fifteen-year old mind. Lazy eyes zone in on the lone figure of an old man carrying a weathered baseball bat--something that might have belonged to his son back in the day-- waving it about like the madman he was.

It was sad, really what happened to him.

He wasn't always like that like most people who go insane are not.

He was a former war veteran. War shock they said.

The medicine was too expensive for the family to cope with-- seven bucks a piece-- and health care in your area was shit so they couldn't maintain his sanity and left him to rot at home alone.

With you.

And now he roams the suburb's streets like the Bogeyman, scaring children to death.

Or giving you a mini heart attack.

One time when you were left alone (your parents were workaholics so you tended to be left to your own devices at home most of the time, particularly during summer vacation) you found him scaling the back wall of your mother's dainty kitchen and in your fright, you had developed a morbidly horrific bout of panic attacks.

At first your parents had merely scoffed, taking it for granted, and yet witnessing you practically have a mental breakdown inside a McDonald's, lungs gasping for air, did your mother grudgingly take a leave of absence to monitor your state.

Eventually your hysterical episodes dwindled largely owing to the fact that there was a lull in the chaos that surrounded you.

Until today.

You were home alone once more and the old man was at it again and despite having double checked to see if all your doors and windows were locked, there was no stopping an armed and deranged maniac from smashing one of your living room windows just so he could get in.

You couldn't help the slight tremble to your frame, lashes fluttering, cold sweat breaking out of your bones as you slowly inched back, just in time for the old man to look up directly to the small attic window where you were huddled, crouched down like a meek mouse.

Afraid to even make a sound.

The LCD of your father's old phone-- a hand me down for you to call with in cases of emergencies (and emergencies only, Hun, mum and I are very busy people), lights up with a text.

Hey, you up for a movie at our place?

-Jeongguk

Ah, your seven adorkable, pain in the ass childhood friends.

You shake your head as if Jeongguk could see you...well, if they could see you now, you don't know what lengths they would go to protect you.

They may be severely annoying sometimes but they were fiercely loyal to you for some reason.

You chalked it up to being the only girl who fit in with the ragtag group of rowdy boys.

"Kinda saving my ass here, Guk," you mutter out a sigh, only to become stilted when a crash resounds from downstairs.

Well shit if it isn't that one of your worst nightmares come true.

Heart furiously pumping with unbidden adrenaline, your courage rising to the surface, you peep at the crosswalk and spy the absence of the lunatic (of course, YN because he is fucking inside your house right at this moment).

Okay, you've got this. You've planned this for a damn long time.

You think to yourself.

And just as the man's chuckles reach your ears, you take a leap of faith and soundlessly climb down the fire escape, jumping to your feet on the soft patch of grass beneath your socked feet, a welcome to discomfort in your haste.

You weren't dying. Not today anyway.

With fueled limbs, you run through the expanse of your parents' well mowed lawn, huffing and puffing until you spot the familiar mansion that was everybody's talk of the town some years ago (and up to now) when it was just being built to house a single dad with his insanely huge adopted family.

You push the heavy gates open after a scan of the thumb (your best friends' father was a big shot CEO of some music company) and hear it shut close behind you, wondering where the guards were as there was no one to greet you like usual.

"Guys!" You whisper hiss through the ringer, not wanting to draw attention to yourself or the old man might come running out to find where the noise was coming from, and the door thankfully flies open.

"YN?!"

You wheedle against seven bodies resembling a frightened animal, quickly locking the massive doors and slump against them, out of breath and dead tired.

Unbeknownst to you however were the seven pairs of eyes crouched down to your level, gentle hands lifting you in a bridal carry, up, up the entwine of stairs and into someone's bedroom.

The familiar sound of the biometric security locking in place all over the house has you shifting your exhausted gaze to your seven best friends.

"Is it that old Bogeyman again?" Park Jimin, cherubic cheeks puffed out with worry, takes your hands, rubs soothing circles on your palms.

"Shouldn't have let the bodyguards take a day off." He murmurs at your nod, biting his plump lips.

Two warm silhouettes sit beside you on the bed, Kim Namjoon with his ever so patient smile and Min Yoongi, ever so bored but feline eyes staring intently at you, a hand grazing your cheek softly to pat your now disheveled baby hairs into a neat row.

Jung Hoseok takes the space in front of your knees next to Jimin, sunshine smile evaporating as you tell them what you know and how you got here.

In fact, all the gentleness in their demeanors morph into something tense, something feared, something that shouldn't be found in the faces of someone so young, but you were too blanked out to particularly care at that point.

Silent looks are traded and in a flurry of movement, someone is calling the cops under their breath.

You startle at the harsh tone Yoongi takes as he speaks over the phone, pacing back and forth, a hand behind his back. Namjoon already has your parents over the line while Hoseok has their dad on the other end.

Jeon Jeongguk, the baby of the group hardly gives you time to adjust as he snakes his arms around your waist, head buried on your lap while his two hyungs scooch over to give him some room. "Noona, stay with us until this thing blows over. It's dangerous."

A hand rests atop your head, ruffling it and you pout up at Kim Taehyung, the taller (and way prettier) boy looking down on you as if you were a midget, a small curl of his lips apparent. "What he said, half pint."

"There is no way in hell we are leaving you alone in that house tonight, babe." Kim Seokjin, the eldest of your friends sneers at the window, arms crossed, broad shoulders --the back of a protector-- on full display as his pink fuzzy-slippered feet take him to close the curtains for privacy.

"Your parents gave the okay. "

"Police are on their way to scout your house, princess."

Your attention is diverted to Namjoon and Yoongi, just as Hoseok turns to all of you and gives a thumbs up. "Dad says YN can stay here for as long as she needs to."

Namjoon nods, "Oh good then that settles that. " He coughs awkwardly, facing you once again, scratching his chin, "YN, your parents wanted me to tell you that they're going to be dropping you off with a relative sometime next week, as they will be permanently relocated overseas for awhile, especially now more than ever, but it looks like you won't be having that problem anytime soon . "

You sigh. What else would you expect from your parents. "If you're all okay with that, then I'm in."

"Of course you're welcome to stay here forever!" Jimin chirps.

Which leads to a heated debate whether forever is enough to keep you to themselves.

You smile in exasperation.

Well at least you won't be so lonely in a large ass mansion anymore.

🔮

FASTFORWARD FOUR YEARS

You watch with pinched lips and a bruised ego (hello, you had breasts too!) as a gaggle of senior girls fawn over your best friends in the University's bustling cafeteria, some even going so far as to let their butt hang out in public.

Disgustingly inappropriate if one may say so.

You aren't even sure if these people can see that they were stampeding all over you, just because of some hot men.

Okay your hot men. Yours.

Everyone knows that they were questionably single.

And yet it was common knowledge that some if not most of them slept around.

The heady smell of expensive perfumes and bare legs is enough to make you woozy, and you glare at someone's elbow as you are displaced from your so called loyal niche, someone's stilletos stepping on your injured foot for good measure.

Glaring like a riled up kitty, or a puppy, or a puppitty, you storm away not bothering to check whether Bangtan Sonyeondan (as their unofficial band name entails) even noticed your tantrum--if you learned one thing about your boys, it was that they were horny all the damn time.

The only saving grace you had was that they never, and you mean never, brought anyone into the mansion and so you luckily were not subjected to any sort of clap and slap at any time.

Thank fuck.

You don't think you could handle it in the flesh.

It has been four years. Four years of wonderful, familial memories, your friendships growing with the seven men you found home in, and four years worth of heartbreak every time you hear a rumor or two of them hooking up with some girl in your class or down the club.

Because it fucking hurts.

You dump the whole tray into the recycling bin angrily, everything remaining to be uneaten as you had no more appetite after that shitty display, and trudge to your car--a Bentley, a high school graduation gift from the boys.

What did those women have that you don't?

You were quite pretty if not flawless, what with all the luxurious high end spa trips Jimin dragged you to.

You had a nice body because Jeongguk the rat hauled your ass every damn morning to the gym.

You were smart courtesy of Namjoon's strict weekly tutorials.

You were athletic enough to join a state team if you so wanted, Yoongi whose love for sports overrode anything else in his hindbrain made sure of that.

You were a great dancer! One of the best in Hoseok's private studio.

You had refined taste in art and modelling if Taehyung had anything to say about that.

And you were a damn good cook, or Seokjin will burn out his eyeballs otherwise!

In fact you cooked for Bangtan all the time!

So what was wrong with you?

Not realizing that the supposed drizzle pelting your cheeks were your own tears, you sniffle down the parking lot and slink inside your car, shoulders slumped, defeated, your heart sour from pining for so, so long.

Maybe you just weren't attractive enough for them.

They certainly didn't give any sort of, any small modicum of interest your way.

After all, you didn't exactly fit in.

You may be close with the most popular heart throbs on campus but you weren't popular yourself.

In fact you'd think all of the women hated you for even daring to live and breathe the same air as Bangtan.

With a frustrated huff, you key in the ignition and hike it out of there.

Dampened spirits distract you and you play a tune on the radio only to fumble when Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok's melodious voices sing to the beat of their self produced rap.

The only thing is, you pass under the campus bridge, and you fail to notice the two students carelessy lugging around a huge frame of glass labelled 'For the art department', just as a huge and strong gust of wind lets the thing fly off the hinges and directly headed straight for your shocked face.

You fail to note the several strangled screams as your world coalesces into shadows.

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

GHOST BUSTERS

FratBoys! BTS x Comatose!Reader (A bit of a slow burn. Just a very teensy bit.)

Supernatural Fluff and angst with a happy ending. Smut will be implied. (For the NSFW, PWP, check out my other page @clutterfied.)

Comment for tags. 🔮

Thank you to all who are reading this series. You make this and myself included come alive. 고맙습니다. 🫶

Synopsis

You vowed that if you were ever going to die one day, the first thing your ghost would do is haunt the seven men who were nothing but a pain in the ass for you.

Or due to a freak accident, you find yourself staring at your own body lying on the hospital bed. The strange thing was, there were seven insanely gorgeous men crying over you. Huh.

All standard disclaimers apply. All banner edits are mine save for the image backgrounds used which belong to their respective creators.

Update schedule: No definite date. Random. Anytime. BTS could be dropping a post right now and I might just be inspired to drop a chapter.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 5.5 (Rated M)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9 (Rated M)

[clutterfield]

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

Ot7 BTS x Reader, Yandere! BTS x Acedia! Reader

Yandere AU, Idolverse AU

M/F, No M/M

Rated M

Previous chapter

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

Chapter Summary: Soft Wrath.

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

Chapter Warnings:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because someone has to grieve for the both of you.

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

That was the start of your descent to hell.

---

NAMJOON

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A-ah, Namjoon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

It was time to weed out the bad ones.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes you had the devil within you.

---

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

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

Your nipples harden at the sight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

Something you thought you’d never have again.

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

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

You wouldn’t have them any other way.

---

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

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

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

Next chapter

[clutterfield]

#seokjinsmut #pwp

TWO TWENTY SIX (Explicit Playlist)

Camboy! Seokjin x Reader

Strictly minors DNI.

Summary: You find an expiring subscription to one Kim Seokjin's Premium Pornhub page.

Warnings: PornWithABitofPlot, Explicit Playlist Please Use Headphones

---

It was at the realization that you would be alone for the rest of your fucking life that you were quietly sniffling while eating yesterday's heated leftover pasta and watching Vampire Diaries.

You were an orphan.

Had been at birth and the system took you in.

The years you've spent under government care weren't the best and yet they certainly weren't the worst.

You got fed and had clothes on your back, and you had managed to get a good education above it all.

Now you worked as a part time kindergarten teacher to pay for your student loans in college and the pay was pretty good so you didn't have anything to complain about.

But there were some days when you felt like the world around you was in gray colors and your soul was yearning for something more substantial other than staring at your cheap white walls and binge watching Netflix on a Friday night.

Sure you had friends but then again your friends didn't really pass as people who would genuinely invite you to anything just because you were the loser in the group.

You also weren't attractive by any means, and maybe that was the reason so few people stayed for long.

Downcast and feeling broody, you throw the plate into the dishwasher only for you to hit your toe on one of the wall beams.

"Fuck!" You curse, the pain hitting you full force when something distracts you.

A piece of yellowing paper lay hidden between the wall gap.

Thinking nothing much of it, you pull it out to come face to face with a name and a subscription to someone called Jin's camboy page.

Well shit.

You laugh at the absurdity of someone jamming something so stupid against a wall as if they wanted to keep it hidden --oh!

Right, the landlord had told you a family of three once lived here so maybe it was the kid who wanted to keep this away from his parents' prying eyes.

Chuckling to yourself, you pad over to your laptop and as a joke, try to type out the page to see if the subscription still exists.

You weren't really expecting anything so imagine your fucking surprise when a classy webpage pops out, all black background and simple lettering.

Though what shocked you out of your wits was probably the insanely gorgeous face staring right to your core.

"What the fuck?"

It was Kim Seokjin from two seats behind you in class.

Holy shit.

He was naked, privates hidden by a flimsy silky material and head tilted to the side enticingly that you couldn't help but stare.

Looking at the subscription limit, you had a week before it went down.

You may be a virgin but you weren't stupid enough to pass the opportunity to ogle your long time crush without judgment on anyone's side.

With trembling hands, you click on the topmost video and watch.

---

The next Monday, when the class is over and Kim Seokjin comes to you for help with your timely doled out team project, you can't even look him in the eye, remembering all the orgasms he had pulled out of you by you just watching all of his videos.

You were a stuttering mess. "Uh huh, yeah sure come over to my place later so we can work on it. "

You leave him confused and aroused in the middle of the hallway because you were dense enough to not notice that the guy was basically asking if he could have your number so he could take you out on a date and maybe fuck you after.

Not just work on your fucking project.

But you were you so it was not until much much later when he has his cock deep in your throat that you realize he likes --likes! -- you!

"Your mouth is so good, little fish." He groans head thrown back, jaw slack as he cums for the second time as you fondle his clean shaven balls.

He fucking shaved down there.

You furrow your brows wondering why he calls you little fish when you squeak as you are roughly thrown onto the couch (yep you didn't make it to your room), breasts bouncing on impact which Seokjin licks his lips over.

And when he is dicking you down for good measure, he makes you squirt several times until you're so raw and fucked out you just might have developed a brain thrush as you melt in his arms.

"JIN! Can't!" You cry out, too sensitive with pleasure.

He nips at your neck, hands swirling your clit that your back arches off the mattress. "Yes, you can. I've seen you watch my shows and I know how this pussy can squirt ."

You can't fathom the fear that drops in your stomach as he spouts those words. When he sees your widened eyes, he stops and smiles.

"Baby, you joined me on cam when you were drunk one night. " Your horror increases but then he leans down and whispers. "But I was the only one who could see your pretty cunt so don't worry "

He pushes into your cunt harder, deeper and faster then and you're both weaving in and out of precipitate lust, one of your neighbors banging the walls yelling at you both to quiet down and you both laugh once you finish.

He kisses the tip of your nose and glances at your clock. "That was 2:26 minutes. "

Confused, you pant out, "Huh?"

He kisses your cheek. "2:26 of my services will cost you $50. That's my rate."

Before you can even get up to slap him on the chest, he pulls you to him. "I want a date as payment. And possibly another one after that. "

Your brain fizzles, neurons dying out as you stare at him with disbelief.

"You want me to date you?"

He smirks."I mean I want you to be my girlfriend but I figured a date is a good start."

You choke on your spit when he squeezes your ass.

"Okay. I want you to be my boyfriend too."

Apparently your crush wasn't one sided after all.

-Fin.