pairing: idol! ot7 bts x reader ⋆˚꩜。
genre: soulmate au + smau + attempt @ humor
summary: one second, you're larping being army, and the next you're being transported to a second location where seven men claim that you're their soulmate. what is a girl to do...
note: guys pls this is my first fic ever ok like idk what im doing this is genuinely a self indulgent crack fic so dont take it too seriously ok..? promise me. ok love ubye.
warnings: USE OF Y/N. kind of trauma later in the story, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders and my humor.
CHAPTER ONE : you need a hitman.
It all starts when Amelia Wren slams her phone down in front of you, claiming she has a life-changing offer.
“You literally cannot say no.” She says, shoving what seems to be the Ticketmaster app in your face. You try to put some distance between yourself and the phone to see its contents more clearly, but before you can, she’s moving already.
“What is this thing that I am being denied the right to deny…?” You ask.
“I got us tickets for…” She turns to you expectantly. Several years of friendship have apparently prepared you for this exact moment. You begin to drum roll.
“BTS!” She exclaims, her excitement palpable. You are grateful that your best friend thinks of you at such a time in her life; you really are, but it seems that she’s forgotten a very important detail.
“Listen to BTS. I know! But I literally have no one else to go with, Y/N. You’re my best friend in the whole entire world, pleaseee!” She pleads.
You bite your lip. “I don’t know, Lia. I feel like you should take someone that knows more than two songs off their entire discography.”
She rounds her eyes comically in mock surprise. “You know two whole songs!?”
You roll your eyes. “I don’t think there’s anyone on this God-given Earth that hasn’t heard Dynamite or Butter at least once.”
“See! You know so much already!” She throws her arms around you. “You have to come, Y/N. For me! Pleasee.” She pulls away and bats her eyelashes at you.
In turn, you stare back at her blankly. She huffs. “Okay. I invoke the Pact.”
“No. If you say no to me now, you are turning your back on the sacredness of our friendship.” She informs you, taking a seat beside you and staring back at you, equally blank.
You groan, putting your head in your hands. You and Amelia had created “The Pact” in high school as a way to hold the other accountable. It included a long list of things, but one of them included showing up for the other, especially in desperate times.
“This is an abuse of power.” You inform her through your hands. She simply shrugs. You are honestly mostly worried about going to the concert and just standing there while some girl snipes you and posts you on TikTok talking about how you didn’t even go there.
That would be a fate worse than death. You hate coming off as a larp. But Amelia has invoked the sacredness of your friendship, and you honestly value that more than your life, which essentially decides for you.
“Fine.” You finally say. “I’ll come.”
That was over two weeks ago. Now the two of you stand in the parking lot of the stadium trying to get through a sea of people. The heat has gotten to both of you with the 4 o’clock heat that is a Californian summer. Amelia groans as she places an iced water bottle to her head. “I think I’m going to die of heat stroke before I see Jimin’s abs.”
“I hope we do.” You murmur, moving your mini fan between the two of you. After extensive research, you and Amelia had decided to match for your concert outfits. Amelia is wearing a red latex tube top with black shorts and knee-high black boots. You, on the other hand, are wearing a black V-neck top with denim shorts and a fat ass belt. You move your hair aside as you let the fan trail down your neck.
“I told you we should’ve arrived at least at 3.” You tell Amelia.
She rolls her eyes at you. “That’s crazy work, and you would have to put a gun to my head before I even consider that.”
You whine when she grabs the fan from you and gives you the water bottle. “We are going to die.” You inform her. “And the last thing I will see will be that big fat Arirang logo.”
“Seeing them live in turn for your life is a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Amelia informs you, her mouth tugging up at the side. You place a hand to your heart. “Now who’s turning their back on our friendship?”
Amelia tilts her head. “This is for the sake of our friendship, honey. Don’t worry, you'll thank me later.”
You highly doubt it. The only thing you vaguely remember about BTS is when they’d colored their hair akin to an assortment of cotton candy and their terrifyingly loyal fanbase.
As preparation for the concert, Amelia has had you study each member of the band and remember at least one trait about them lest you get kidnapped and interrogated.
You find the idea fairly probable.
“Did you go through the list again?” Amelia asks, digging in her backpack to fetch her phone. Through your bickering, the line has moved around surprisingly smoothly. There are only five people ahead of you. You nod, “My favourite is…Seok..Jin..?” You ask rather than say.
“Correct! He’s the..” She trails, waiting for you to complete.
“He’s the oldest of the seven,” you say. “And he’s got beautiful shoulders,” you sigh.
After scanning your tickets and thanking the staff, you and Amelia start to navigate your way to your seats through yet another crowd. You can feel your legs hurt already from how much you’ve been standing, especially with the four-inch chunk beneath your boots.
“Did you get us floor seating?” Your shock is a living thing. You have a clear view of the stage and are close enough to the front that you could touch the stage. “Amelia, are we rich?” you ask her.
“And it cost me an arm, leg and your kidney,” Amelia informs you. You pat your torso where your kidneys would be. “Stop gambling away my body parts.” You murmur, moving down the aisle with her towards your seats.
Amelia giggles. “I found a really good reseller on Depop.”
“At least you weren’t scammed within an inch of your life,” you shrug.
“I won’t lie to you, I was shaking till they scanned our tickets.”
You lean over to ruffle her hair, to which she whines in protest. “Stop that! If tonight is the night Jimin decides he wants me, I need to look beautiful.”
You roll your eyes. “Statistically, I have more of a chance of that happening than you do.”
“You’re sick in the head, Y/N L/N.”
The cheering of the crowd around you drowns out the rest of your conversation. The concert has begun.
Amelia clings to you with a vice. “Oh my GOD!” she squeals. You only pat her shoulder. “There, there,” you murmur.
Amelia has been an ARMY since 2015. This is clearly a huge deal for her, and you will be as supportive as possible for her.
“Is this from ARIRANG?” You ask her. She nods feverishly. “First song off the album,” she tells you.
The crowd loses it the second the boys are spotted.
You watch with rapt fascination as a simple move causes nearly the entire stadium to lose its shit. It is like witnessing the occult. You also can’t really blame them; BTS is beautiful. Even you can admit that. You may not remember their names, but you are plenty good with faces.
They have enough of those to go around.
The boys start to sing, and the crowd starts to go crazy. There is a voice in the back of your head that urges you to pay closer attention. You are officially convinced that you might be showing early signs of schizophrenia. Regardless, you listen lest the voice turn out to be a malicious spirit.
Near the end of the concert, when your anxiety really starts to settle into you. BTS runs around the stage waving flags as they go, saying hello to fans and singing as they do. Amelia practically pushes the two of you forward before they reach your section. She waves her hand out like much of the section and pushes yours out as well. You do your best to keep your hands as far away as possible. As the band makes its way through the crowd, you start to see the golden string that is your soulmate bond materialise in front of you. It is something only privy to the soulmates and tends to be especially bright before First Contact.
You curse the universe for its handbook to Find Your Soulmate 101.
The Tattooed One gets to your section first. He seems to be following the trail, and you know there is no hiding it. So naturally, you hide behind Amelia.
And of course, the universe decides to take a fat piss on the mess that is your life. The Tattooed One high-fives Amelia. You are sure she is going to faint right then and there, and you will have to hatch a plan to carry her cold body out of this stadium by yourself.
Then you feel the shot of electricity shoot up your arm. Your head snaps towards the source, being once again the Tattooed One. You frown, cradling your hand to your chest, and he stares back at you, his eyes slightly widening. Your eyes snake down to the golden string that confirms the worst of your fears.
Ding! Ding! Ding! You are Soulmates!
You could practically feel your stomach drop to your ass.
It seems that your stats aren’t too far off.
You really hadn’t meant to speak your crack fic into reality. You really need to start watching what you say.
If there is a God, they seem to be giggling at your expense. No. There clearly is, and it is one that reads fanfiction apparently.
You need to be sniped. You are going to order a hitman.
He is holding back the crowd, but it doesn’t seem like he cares.
You tilt your head at the man, and he only stares at you, his shock a living, breathing thing between the two of you. Then, like the universe has finally decided to take pity on you, he is pulled along with the crowd. You make a point to keep your hands to yourself.
“What was that?” Amelia asks. “Why did Kookie just stare into your soul?”
You shrug, “I told you. Wattpad statistics never lie.” It isn’t like you are far from the truth. That thought unsettles you. You still feel like you are having an out-of-body experience. Your words feel like an echo inside of your own head.
“You lucky bitch,” Amelia grins at you. “So what do you think?”
The band has gone off stage, likely for another dress change. You force yourself to snap out of it. The chances of BTS being your soulmate are slim but never zero, and apparently you have become a manifestation master through mysterious means.
You turn to her, forcing a smile. “I understand your dreams for a polycule orgy, okay?”
Amelia grins triumphantly. “Mission accomplished.”
The rest of the concert feels like a blur to you. Tattooed One, or as Amelia has so politely named you, “Kookie”, and the palpable shock between the two of you is constant even without him near you.
You try to shake yourself out of it, even participating when ‘Dynamite’ starts playing. It is of no use; you are too lost within yourself.
I throw up your hands and plop down onto your seat. You are a woman of science. You are in no way a fool enough to believe in misguided notions of soulmates. You decide what has just happened is a sign from God for you to get a mental wellness check. You are, in fact, not tethered to a member of the world’s biggest K-pop boy group.
With your heart slightly at ease, you stand once again as the boys sit on the rotating stage.
In that moment, you realise three things:
Seokjin’s shoulders are truly as broad as the legends claim, and you are about to lose your mind.
Your Korean lessons have paid off well, and you can actually comprehend what they are saying to a certain extent.
Tattooed One is searching for something in the crowd.
You sit the hell back down.
You really need to stop leaving the house.
Amelia seems obvious to all your turmoil. She squeals every time one of them speaks and shakes you hard enough that you are sure you are one shake away from your brain dislodging itself.
Then with all the fanfare of a long lost welcome, they bid the crowd farewell and disappear into the tunnel for the last time.
There is confetti everywhere as people cry. Despite everything that has just gone down, the doped smile on Amelia seems worth it.
You sigh deeply and turn to Amelia to ask if she’s ready to leave when someone clears their throat behind you.
You turn to apologise, but it dies in your throat. A tall, lanky man stands behind you with a clear microphone to an earpiece. You tilt your head.
“Can I help you?” you ask, watching as Amelia packs her things. You think you know what this is. At the sound of your voice, she looks up, her face twisting in confusion.
“Ma’am, could you follow me backstage?” The stranger asks. You raise an eyebrow. “Can I see some ID?” you joke.
The man only stares. Thought you swore you saw his lips twitch.
Amelia stands beside you, all intimidation. She is going to scare this man away, and you two will stop at Taco Bell on your way home. Everything will be alright.
“What for?” Amelia inquires. Amelia was a lawyer, much to everyone’s (including yours) surprise.
“I am not in a position where I can disclose information. Please follow me.“
You turn to Amelia. She’s shaking her head. “You could very well be lured into a murder den right now.” She informs you.
“Okay, and you’ve prepared me for this moment with your insistence on me memorising everything about BTS,” you tell her.
“I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure about this?”
You shrug. “Come with me?”
Amelia sighs deeply. “Always.”
The man clears his throat again. “I apologise, but only she is authorised,” he says, pointing toward you. You exchange a glance with Amelia.
“Y/N…” she starts. You smile at her and pat her shoulder. “I promise you that I will be okay.”
“Okay, if you don’t text me within ten minutes, I’m going to assume you are bleeding in a sewer.” She tells you. You pinky promise her that you will even send her your location before following the man.
You assure yourself that you will be fine if this turns out to be a kidnapping attempt.
You could scream really loudly.
Instead of being taken backstage, the you are lured into a secret parking garage where three big fat SUVs are parked.
“Right through here,” the man says. You can sense his disapproval of you following a strange man around, but it isn’t like he hasn’t instigated it. “For safety reasons, the group needs to return to their hotel,” the man says. “You will be riding in this one.” He motions to the SUV in the middle.
You push the thought aside and follow the man towards the SUV.
He knocks twice on the door before opening it for you.
You try not to look inside too soon. You decide you will stay oblivious to the facts for as long as you possibly can. You thank the man for his effort and clamber into the car.
There are rows, and you’ve been assigned a seat at the very back next to Kim Seokjin.
Seokjin’s eyes are closed, and his head is leaning against the window.
You keep to yourself and try to make as little noise as possible as you sit down.
No sooner has the door closed before two heads peek at you.
“Hi! I’m Jimin!” The blonde one says, waving brightly at you. Beside him, there is a man with what seems to be an attempt at a blonde peek-a-boo.
Was that… “Taehyung?” you whisper. The man grins.
“What’s your name?” Jimin asks. You are being punked. The universe is going to clap three times, and you are going to go back in time to the concert.
“Aish,” says a voice beside you. You startle when you realise Seokjin is, in fact, awake. “Leave her alone. Wait till the hotel room.”
You were blushing. You had never blushed a day in your life before. You didn’t even know you were capable of it. And the culprit for this newfound development was none other than Kim Seokjin. You tried to blink it away, but it seemed that was not how blushing worked. Were you also supposed to feel this warm when you blushed?
Seokjin smiles politely at you before returning to his initial position. The other two disappear into their seats, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You pull out your phone and lean back in your seat.
You frown. Why is she not overjoyed for your safety?
You open the photo. It is a picture of Amelia stuffing her face with sushi.
You: Your greed sickens me. I’m going to block you now.
Lia Bear: Don’t hate the player, hate the game.
You: You have blocked this contact
On hindsight, that is probably not the best move to make when you are being taken to a second location in a car full of men. You undo the action.
You groan and put your head in your hands. Today might have just been the worst day ever.
First, you find out that you have not one but seven soulmates. You aren’t entirely sure how you feel about that just yet.
Then, instead of overwhelming concern and distress, your best friend is stuffing her face with food without worrying whether you will live or die. Would you do the same? Yes. But are you still pissed? Yes.
You pull your legs up to your chest and rest your head on the window, mimicking Seokjin.
You decide once this whole ordeal is over, you will order yourself enough sushi to give you a fat tapeworm.
After what you’ve just been subjected to, it feels like a reasonable request.
The reality of the situation is that you are alone in a car with seven men. No one you know has your location, and you don’t know where they are taking you. This is the stuff of nightmares.
You feel a headache coming on. You really need to stop leaving your house. Or maybe you just needed to stop listening to Amelia.
You’re not sure when you’ve fallen asleep, but you wake up convulsing in pain.
Your body is on fire, and it feels like someone has injected hellfire into your veins. Seokjin’s concerned face looks over you, and you can see a head of blonde and black hair behind him. The door is open, and there is cold air streaming through the car, but you feel as though you are being roasted alive.
“Hurts,” you manage to choke out. You are such a pathetic loser. You hope someone has hired a hitman and the second you step out of the car you will be put out of your misery.
Seokjin looks over at Jimin with a glare. “I told you to wait for Jeongguk.” He speaks rapidly in Korean. You aren’t about to let it slip that you can speak Korean. Not just yet.
“What’s wrong with her?” Taehyung asks, glancing between you and Jimin.
“Only Jeongguk has made First Contact. If the rest of us touch her, she has to go through the process all over again. For now, only he can touch her.” He says, running a hand through his hair.
You feel a sharp pain shoot through your abdomen and flare up into the rest of your body. You promise whatever is up there that you will dedicate your life to being a nun if it means that this agonising pain will stop. It genuinely feels like your body is trying to rewire you at a molecular level.
Within minutes, you see Jeongguk. His tattooed hand reaches out to gently cup your cheek before he pulls out of the car. One hand slides under your knees and the other on your back. His touch feels like being splashed with cold water, and you nearly cry with relief.
“Are you…okay?” he whispers as he walks past the rest. The others trail behind him, and they enter a building. You nod, subconsciously letting your head fall against his chest. You pull away almost instantly. “Sorry,” you mutter.
You are now inside an elevator with multiple other people. Their voices overlap, and you feel your head pound. It feels like someone's heartbeat was syncing with the pulsating headache you were feeling.
You groan and turn your face towards Jeongguk. The entire elevator silences itself.
Maybe you do have Black Magic. You will test this theory out later.
Jeongguk sets you down on what seems to feel like a couch. You shoot up despite yourself and cringe when your body makes contact with itself. Again, seven strange men and now you are in a room with them. Far be it from you to simply lay down in front of them.
Jimin’s anxious face hovers near you. “I’m so sorry,” he keeps repeating, keeping his distance from you. You aren’t sure what that would do considering First Contact has already been made. You only shake your head. “It’s alright, Jimin,” you tell him, trying to smile.
He looks at you weirdly. Then he turns to Jeongguk. Jeongguk seems equally at a loss. Did you have spinach on your teeth or something..?
“Hyung—“ he begins. Seokjin is all up in your face again. You blush. Then you smack yourself in the forehead for doing so.
“You’re flushed. Do you feel hot?” he asks, gently moving your hand from your forehead.
This time the pain nearly takes you out. You lean forward and clutch his shoulders in a vice, and pain racks through you.
Jimin’s face twists in worry, his eyes practically welling. He sits on his knees in front of you and strokes your arm. “We’re so sorry, Y/N,” he says. His touch feels like a cooling balm. You lean into it.
Seokjin looks like he wants to smack himself.
“Hyung, you told us not to touch her; why would you touch her?” Jeongguk scolds.
“Are you feeling alright?” Seokjin asks, ignoring Jeongguk.
“Yeah,” you say. “All good.” Jimin makes to stand and takes his magic hands with him. You nearly whine, but you decide you need to keep the remnants of your dignity intact.
You need a fucking break.
If this is what you will feel like every time one of your soulmates touches you, you decide the bond could go unrecognised.
The door flies open, and there is a loud shout in Korean. “Where is she?”
Seokjin calls for them to come to the room you are in.
A tall man rushes in; his hair is spiky and a little dishevelled.
He kneels on the floor next to Seokjin. “I’m Namjoon,” he quickly introduces himself. “How are you feeling?“
You are sick of the question. It seems that everyone is informed on your current state of agony and despair. You wish they would leave you alone with it.
The others settle around you on the couch.
You make sure to keep your distance from everyone. Maybe you lean a little into Seokjin. And maybe you lean in specifically towards his broad shoulders.
If a beautiful man stands before you—worried for you —far be it from you to reject his comfort.
“Overwhelmed?” you answer Namjoon.
“I apologise for that,” he winces. “I am guessing you know why you’re here?” he asks.
You nod woefully. “It seems I am all of your soulmates.”
Namjoon nods. “We were surprised to find out you were ARMY. We’d never seen glimpses of you listening to our music before.”
Your eyebrows furrow. You were unsure of what he meant by ‘glimpses’, but you had bigger things to worry about.
“I am not ARMY,” you say quickly. “My best friend is, though. She wanted me to go with her to your concert.” You set the record straight.
Namjoon’s lips twitch. “So you are not ARMY?”
“Correct. I am a bystander.” You say primly.
His amusement is visible. You ignore it.
A golden string between you two hums as if pulling you into each other. You decide to cling to Seokjin’s shoulders instead.
He seems to be getting suspicious of your body part of choice.
It isn’t like he can blame you. You are, after all, a girl with needs.
He awkwardly pats your hands before gently removing them from his body and standing up. You resist the urge to frown.
“Every time we touch her, she goes into shock,” he tells the others.
“Not with me,” Jeongguk informs the others proudly. You nod in agreement. “It just felt like a tingle,” you say. Jeongguk grins at the information, and Taehyung rolls his eyes at Jeongguk’s antics.
The group turns to look at you. “You speak Korean?” Namjoon asks.
Busted. Where the hell was your head at? You’d gotten so used to hearing their voices that it seemed you’d forgotten they were currently real.
“A little bit,” you say, sheepishly.
“How much is a little bit?” Namjoon asks once again.
Over the past decade and a half, you and Amelia (mostly you) have subjected yourselves to countless K-dramas without subtitles, weird language learning apps, and so much more to teach yourselves the language. Amelia has thought you a fool and has cursed you out plenty for forcing her on this journey with you, but it seems to have ultimately paid off.
“I can hold a conversation,” you say, in Korean. You really don’t want to oversell yourself. The relief in the room is palpable. You realise a language barrier would be quite tedious if you were all to spend the rest of your lives together.
You shudder at the thought.
“That’s so wonderful!” Jimin’s joy is a living, breathing entity. It seems to radiate off him in waves. His smile stretches wide, and his eyes form small crescents.
He is so adorable; your heart clenches.
Your body decides now is a good time to remind you of the fact that there might be literal hellfire in your veins. In a blind effort to save yourself, you grab Namjoon’s hand. Realising your mistake, you jerk away from him. But the damage is done. You really, really need to get a fucking grip.
But unlike before, there is no body convulsing electrical current that greets you, but rather a clarification for the gentle beat at the back of your head.
You can feel his heartbeat, you realise.
Well, this is certainly a welcome surprise. You wish all your Soul Marks could be this peaceful.
“Your heart is beating really fast, soulmate,” Namjoon tells you, the amusement clear in his voice.
“Your heart is going to stop beating if you don’t shut up, Namjoon,” you say in a similar tone.
He grins at you. You realise he has dimples. He is stunning, and you need to stop staring at him. You feel your heart race. Namjoon seems aware of this as his smile curves into a smirk.
You decide you’ve had enough of him. He is being too smug. Before you can curse him out, there is yet another loud bang. Two men rush into the room; one is a little shorter and is wearing glasses that make him look extremely sophisticated, along with a taller man with frosted tips. The latter’s eyes zero in on you before rushing towards you. “Is this her? Is she okay?” He asks in the general direction of the group. Namjoon nods at him. “This is Y/N,” he says. Our Soul Marks are manifesting differently on her, but after Jimin’s Touch, I think it’s best if we let her be for a while,” he tells the man. You squint at him.
You know this one; he has been the first one that Amelia had pointed out to you. You have found his smile beautifully genuine since it also happened to form a heart.
“Hoseok?” You say. You are just saying his name, hoping you are correct. He startles at the sound of your voice. You wave at him shyly. God, you are pathetic.
He smiles warmly at you. “Hi!”
The other man sits a curious distance away from you, as if assessing you.
Namjoon moves away and starts to make phone calls. Hoseok sighs beside you. You raise an eyebrow in question.
“He has to let our manager know about you,” Hoseok tells you. “You need to sign some forms and contracts, I think,” he makes a face. “But it’s to ensure that we’re all protected the best we can be.”
You nod slowly. It made sense; they were pretty famous and obviously something like this would need to be kept under wraps until the company was ready to announce it. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason their career plummeted.
A loud ringing interrupts you. You frown and look at the called ID. It is Amelia. You’d forgotten to update her. The poor girl probably thinks you are dead. You look at the group apologetically before picking up.
“Are you alive!?” Amelia practically yells. You hold the phone away from your ear.
“Are you being held at gunpoint? Snap once if yes.”
“No, but speaking of gunpoint, what are the chances you can hire a hitman to take me out?” You inquire.
“None, why would I waste money on something I can do myself?”
“Where are you? Who are you with?”
“I’m not really sure, and I can’t tell you.”
“So you are being kidnapped?”
“Are you with BTS?” she asks. She obviously meant it as a joke, but you hesitate for a minute. The group shakes their heads at you, and you fight a groan.
“Why would I be with BTS, Amelia?” You ask, looking at BTS.
“You said it yourself; statistically you have a higher probability of ending up in a situation with them.”
“Your stats being fanfiction?”
“Okay, I’m hanging up now, okay?”
“Wait! Are you safe?” she asks.
“Yes, honey, I’m safe,” you reassure her before hanging up.
You smile sheepishly at your soulmates. “That was my best friend, Amelia.” You tell them. “She was just wondering if I was still alive and breathing.”
You lean against the couch, your shoulders brushing Yoongi’s leg. You move away a little, unsure where anyone stands on physical touch. Well, that was a lie. They all seem pretty comfortable with physical touch, but you were pre-warned about Yoongi’s selective aversion to it. Namjoon was more forward about it, you knew.
“I think I’m going to hit the hay,” You inform them. “Who volunteers to drive me home?”
“It’s pretty late,” Namjoon says. “It would be safer to stay the night. We can book you a separate room, if you’d like?”
You shake your head. “No, don’t go through the trouble. I can call myself an Uber,” you tell them. Jimin hesitates.
“Would you like my number?” you ask no one in particular. Namjoon nods. “That would be easier,” he says sheepishly.
You blink. “How else were you planning on communicating with me?” you ask, writing down your number on the hotel’s notepad.
Namjoon doesn’t dignify you with a response.
You spend the ride back home wondering how exactly you ended up in this position. Amelia was going to kill you when she found out.
guys im acc excited im gonna pee
ok i prmise ill try to update every weekend ok...? ok! bye lov eu
