Amara
Chapter-five
SUMMARY:
Amara Smith Lee, the eighth member of BTS and the only Black idol in the group, juggles fame, friendship, and a secret poly relationship with seven men who love her more than they should.
RATING:
Mature (18+). Romantic tension, suggestive moments, jealousy, idol-life stress, fluff, and domestic chaos.
PAIRING:
BTS OT7 x Amara Smith Lee
WARNINGS:
Jealousy, late-night lives, clingy boys, emotional intimacy, arguments, makeup moments, and a realistic look at being a Black idol in Korea.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
A soft, chaotic, realistic poly AU.
—————————————————
They weren’t supposed to go live.
That was the first mistake.
It started as a casual VLive. No announcement. Just Jimin and Taehyung sitting on a couch in the dorm, warm lighting, snacks everywhere, and way too much giggling for two grown men.
Jimin was leaning into the camera, squinting at the comments.
“Why are you all awake,” he laughed. “It’s late.”
Taehyung, sitting half-sprawled behind him, waved lazily.
“We’re just talking,” he said. “We’re not doing anything bad.”
The comments flew by.
Someone asked about Jungkook’s solo.
Jimin’s eyes lit up immediately.
“Oh! ‘Seven’?” he said. “That song is so good.”
Taehyung nodded too fast.
“Too good,” he said, slurring slightly. “Too specific.”
Jimin froze.
The comments started to speed up.
“Specific?” Jimin repeated, trying to sound normal. “What do you mean by specific.”
Taehyung shrugged, laying his head on the back of the couch.
“I mean…” he said slowly, blinking dramatically. “If someone wrote a song about a pretty girl who lives in our house…”
Jimin’s smile tightened.
“…Tae.”
“What?” Taehyung said innocently. “I didn’t say her name.”
Someone in the comments typed: “AMARA?”
Jimin leaned back in his chair.
“She’s not watching,” he said. “She’s asleep.”
Taehyung leaned toward the camera.
“She hates when we talk about her,” he whispered loudly.
Jimin laughed. Nervous. Real.
Then Taehyung said the sentence he was not supposed to say:
“Jungkook didn’t even have to imagine anything for that song, honestly.”
Silence.
Jimin dropped his head into his hands.
Chat exploded.
Comments flooded so fast they blurred.
“WHAT”
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN”
“DID HE JUST”
“ABOUT WHO”
“WHY IS JIMIN PANICKING”
Jimin lifted his head slowly.
“Okay,” he said. “We’re ending this.”
Taehyung frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you’re talking too much.”
Taehyung looked confused for a solid three seconds… then his eyes widened.
“Oh.”
The live ended abruptly.
—————
Nobody pretended to be surprised about the song itself.
That part?
Old news.
The shock hit when Jimin and Taehyung started talking too much.
Clips flooded the internet.
Not angry clips.
Not cancel clips.
Just stunned, chaotic, laughing clips.
One girl went viral sitting on her bed, holding her phone up to her face.
“Let’s be very clear,” she said, pointing at the screen.
“We BEEN knew that song was grown. Nobody thought that track was about hand holding and eye contact.”
She paused.
“But y’all telling me… we might know who it was for?? That’s the plot twist.”
Millions of likes.
Another creator stitched the clip, laughing so hard they had to pause.
“We weren’t shocked at the song. We were shocked at the CONTEXT. There’s a difference.”
Someone else posted a video just staring into the camera while the instrumental played softly in the background.
“So you’re telling me,” they said slowly,
“that man dropped one of the boldest songs of his life… and now it might not just be a concept?”
They pressed their lips together to stop laughing.
Failed.
———————————-
Amara woke up to warmth.
Not sunlight.
Not noise.
Just Jin’s arm slung lazily over her waist and Hoseok half-asleep on the other side of the bed, one leg tangled with hers because none of them ever slept normal.
She blinked a few times, adjusting to being awake.
Jin mumbled something into her shoulder that sounded like, “five more minutes.”
Hobi groaned softly, face buried in her back. “You’re warm.”
She carefully slid one arm free and grabbed her phone off the nightstand, expecting normal notifications.
She was not prepared.
Twitter.
Weverse.
TikTok.
Fifty missed messages.
Thousands of tags.
Group chat exploding.
She frowned and unlocked her phone.
First thing she saw?
A clip of Jimin and Taehyung on live.
She watched in silence.
Then the fan edits.
Then the reaction videos.
Then one girl laughing so hard she had to lay on the floor of her room.
“So we BEEN knew that song was grown,” the girl said through laughter, “but now y’all telling me it had a TARGET?”
Amara stared at the screen.
She slowly dragged the blanket up higher like that might hide her from the internet.
Jin shifted beside her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.
She turned her phone toward him.
“Read.”
He squinted.
Then blinked.
Then sat up.
“…Oh.”
Hobi lifted his head blearily.
“What?” he mumbled.
She turned the phone toward him too.
He stared at it for three seconds… then covered his face with the blanket.
“They went live again, didn’t they?”
“Yep.”
Jin rubbed his face, fully awake now. “They’re not going to let them go live alone ever again.”
Hobi peeked back out, whispering, “Are you trending?”
Amara checked.
Her name was everywhere.
Not angry.
Not hate.
Just confusion and chaos.
Edits.
Memes.
Theories.
She didn’t feel scared.
She felt… overwhelmed.
Jin gently squeezed her shoulder.
“You okay?”
She hesitated. Then nodded.
“It’s just weird seeing people talk about something that feels… private.”
Hobi scooted closer, wrapping an arm loosely around both of them.
“They don’t actually know,” he said gently. “They’re guessing.”
“That’s what makes it worse,” she muttered softly.
Jin sighed and pulled her carefully back against his chest.
“Don’t spiral,” he said. “We’ve survived worse.”
Hobi pressed his chin against the back of her shoulder.
“You’re safe here. Just three sleepy idiots in a bed.”
She huffed a small laugh.
Her phone buzzed again.
A new notification:
Jungkook has called.
She stared at it.
Jin and Hobi both looked at the screen.
Hobi whispered, “Answer it.”
Jin added, “Put him on speaker.”
She hesitated… then pressed accept.
——————
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