Author Note: This short Drabble is thanks to another dream I had recently. It's been plaguing me, as my dreams tend to do, so I wanted to write it down. It's not a fun story, it's not happy, and definitely fell into the nightmare category of dreams. Fair warning.
You’re breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It’s all you can focus on.
No, that’s a lie. There’s plenty other things going on that you could focus on, but you don’t. Because to focus on the other things would mean that you would be destroyed. So you focus on the breaths you pull in deep and let go slow.
You’re shaking. Your heart is pounding. And the first coherent thought in several minutes breaches your carefully constructed walls. ”I think I’m going to die.”
Your eyes open at the thought, you’ve managed to startle yourself with it. And you immediately wish you hadn’t opened your eyes at all because when you do you see him standing across the room from you, the crystal vase full of sunflowers has left its home on the table, and is now leaving his hand on its journey toward your head.
You duck, hearing the vase shatter on the wall behind you. The flowers don’t fall gracefully. It’s not the pretty picture that movies tend to make this moment into. Rather, the bright, happy flowers, fall to the floor hard some of them bouncing before coming to a sad rest among broken shards of crystal and miniature puddles of water.
Is that how it will be for you? Will you end up broken and shattered on the floor?
You wish you had kept your phone with you tonight. If you’d had it in your hand instead of leaving it in your purse then you could have called someone. Or at least threatened to call someone so that you could get out of this moment.
You think back to 10 months ago. Your wedding photo on the wall behind him still capturing that day. The day when you promised each other that you would make your marriage into the most beautiful moment in life.
How wrong you were. You wish you could go back in time and save yourself from this.
He leaves his spot at the other side of the room. He’s run out of things to throw, but he hasn’t run out of drunken anger. So he comes closer, and you wonder if it’s finally over, as he wraps his hands around your throat.
The same hands that you used to hold in awe of how much you loved him, the hands that were now responsible for the bruises on your body. The bruises that he had placed so strategically so as to not be caught. That’s why you figure it’s over now, finally, he is putting bruises on you that you won’t be able to hide.
Tears escape, not out of fear though. It’s relief, that brings the few tears you shed. He’s still screaming at you, now mocking you for the tears. But for just a second you think that you've finally won, you've beat him because he won't be able to hurt you anymore.
You start to see black when the door bangs open behind him, and you pass out before you can wrap your mind around the people who have just entered into your apartment.
You come around again in time to hear your husband being dragged away. Coughing as the first responders check your vitals, eyes continuing to water, and then really crying as Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hobi come running toward you.
You try to warn them about the shattered vase as they crash onto their knees next to you, but you don’t have much of a voice left. Namjoon is too afraid to touch you, seeing bruises, cuts, and bloodshot eyes, his own tears being barely held back.
Hobi puts a hand to your head, not even attempting to hold back his tears as he looks at you, apologizing.
But it’s when Yoongi gingerly holds your hand, gently pulling off your wedding ring, that you realize truly that the nightmare is over. He throws the ring onto the end-table near you before he turns back to you with a question that you’re not sure has an answer.
“Why didn’t you tell us how bad it was?”
You open your mouth to attempt to speak when he shakes his head. “Don’t. You shouldn’t have had to tell us. I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t realize what was happening.”
The tears begin anew, your eyes and throat burning even worse for a moment.
“What —“ Namjoon has to pause to clear his throat, giving his head a shake before he can continue. “Whatever you need. For any length of time you need. We’ll take care of it, of you.”
The tears continue to burn, and you look each of them in the eye before looking toward the door.
Hobi knows what you’re looking for, what you’re wondering, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
“The others are making sure that scum-bucket knows he’s never coming near you again. But we, obviously, all agree with Namjoon’s promise. We’ve got you. Forever.”
And as the first responders bring in a stretcher to take you to the hospital, strapping a neck brace on you, and you look around your apartment as much as possible, you wonder if, in some way, this actually is the most beautiful moment in life. Or at least the beginning of it.
something about yet to come and hyyh and the endless romanticisation of youth but your life isn't actually over at 20. or 30. and something about how a person can know everything at 18 but nothing at 22 and the fact that we're just getting started and the most beautiful moment in life is yet! to! come!
summary ; being the only woman in a friend group with seven men automatically makes you the love interest in seven mothers’ wistful romantic stories. though your relationship with the guys remains completely platonic, the marriage fantasy their moms frequently project onto you and their sons has them coming up with all sorts of shenanigans to make you their daughter-in-law. mother knows best, you suppose.
warnings ; overbearing moms, attempts at humor, platonic, slice of life
note ; oh to be the bangtan moms’ favorite <33
drabble 1 ; sunday lunch
drabble 2 ; of quail eggs and perms
drabble 3 ; of hair styles and scissors
drabble 4 ; of tangerines and dumplings
drabble 5 ; mafia game
drabble 6 ; code red
drabble 7 ; father knows best
drabble 8 ; a solemn day
drabble 9 ; of ferris wheels and pomeranians
drabble 10 ; of burns and skin care routines
drabble 11 ; of fights and allergies
drabble 12 ; once upon a treasure hunt
drabble 13
survey ; who is oc’s appa’s favorite among the boys?
ask ; what if the moms had a group chat?
ask ; what if tae’s eomma makes him & oc go to hawaii?
ask ; what if the boys get tired of their moms’ antics?
Synopsis: Your job is whatever people need it to be, you've murdered the opposition, spied, stolen trade secrets, and now, you've been called in to destroy the biggest boy group in the world. Will you be able to do it after getting to know them?
Series Warnings: Murder, blood, lies, angst, betrayal.
Words: 4k
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
"Then ruin it."
That one sentence is echoing and bouncing around so much that you feel like you’re drowning in it. It has been for days now.
He hadn’t questioned your statement. He hadn’t brought it up again, and neither had you, mostly out of shock though. What were you supposed to say, or to think for that matter. You, for the past while had had a front row seat to the biggest act in the world. One comprising of seven boys, a near constant camera presence, and an incredible work ethic. They were funny, charismatic, relatable, all on top of being insanely talented, hard working, brave, dedicated, and in demand.
There had been three times — three — where you’d seen a glimpse of the toll that this life was taking on them.
The first had been when you’d snuck into a practice room to find a quiet space to figure out how you were going to get closer to them. You’d been in the room for all of five minutes when Jungkook came into the room, followed closely by Taehyung. They were carrying on about a particular new choreography they were learning, you hadn’t heard them coming but with the way they were talking you could guess that this was a conversation they’d been having for some time. You tucked yourself into an empty cupboard — which was perhaps the most uncomfortable thing you could have chosen to do and you regretted it deeply as the minutes wore into an hour, and then two. Eventually Taehyung had left, having to go record, but Jungkook remained. When he’d been dancing for nearly three hours he finally sat down to take a break. Leaning against the mirror, through the crack in the cupboard door you could see his sweat-soaked figure with is head in his hands.
The music died down, finally, and you heard him release a shakier breath than you’d anticipated.
He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes, jaw trembling just as much as you were sure his muscles were. Hands falling to the floor, he looked right in your direction as he cried, “I can’t do it. I can’t get it.”
You’d nearly abandoned your hiding place to comfort the younger man when Namjoon came in.
“Taehyung was worried you’d be here still. Want to talk about it?”
Jungkook had quickly put himself back together in the face of his hyung, and Namjoon worked that much harder to talk to him about what was going on. When that didn’t work, Namjoon did what he knew would work. He asked Jungkook to teach him.
The second time had been after a long day of interviews, you’d eaten dinner with the boys on the floor of the practice room and had been laughing and drinking.
Until Yoongi got serious, “At some point, we’re going to fall. If we go much higher, the fall is going to kill us. Not just our careers.”
“It won’t just hurt us, either.” Jimin agreed, “It’s going to take a toll on our families, our friends, and possibly even our country.”
“Do you ever think it’s too much? What we’ve got?” Taehyung asked, quietly, the only one that was for sure not drunk since he hadn’t been drinking at all.
“Sometimes I think it was a mistake. Or that it’s all a dream.” Jin admitted.
You looked around, at the seven giants in front of you and asked sincerely. “Would you be relieved if you lost it?”
Yoongi is the one who answered, “I think I might. I feel like I might be able to breathe easier without so much pressure.”
“But I’d miss it.” Jungkook said, “It’s hard, it’s sometimes a nightmare, but I love performing, I love ARMY, and we have so many good things because of the hard work we’ve put in.”
“I don’t want to quit.” Taehyung said, a statement that was quickly affirmed by the others. “I don’t want to quit, but sometimes I do want to have less, or do something smaller. Like when I get to do OST’s, it’s still welcomed, but it’s not the same scale.”
The night had ended on the same solemn note, and with the cheer and laughter gone, the group had quickly dissipated to return home for some rest.
The last time had been only a couple of weeks ago. Jimin had been practicing his life away, getting ready to go perform on the massive MAMA Hong Kong stage. To the point that his back was acting up again, and he was covered in bruises from practicing his solo stage.
You hadn’t meant to intrude when you’d walked into the lounge that day, and you’re 98% sure he hadn’t noticed you. But when you walked in to find a crying Jimin, you froze. You wondered if he’d injured himself and was in pain, but he seemed okay physically. Aside from the bumps and bruises he’d been sporting all week.
You stepped quietly out of the room, leaving him to find whatever solace he’d escaped to find, and ran into his manager. When you inquired, you were handed a phone with several tweets and posts showing on the screen. Every single one of them about Jimin, and to say that they weren’t positive were putting it extremely mildly.
You wonder now if that was the moment that you changed your mind about the job. You had thought that you could let yourself be happy, be in love, be with friends, be with Taehyung, at least for now. If it was just for now then it would end eventually, you would get your life back together, you just needed this for now.
Then ruin it. You think again of the confidence and sincerity with which Taehyung had said that last night, and wonder the the umpteenth time if he was serious.
You made the decision that you would ruin their career, like you’d been sent to do, but not in a way that would cost lasting damage to the boys or their futures in music. Rather, you would create a way out for them to take, if they wanted to. That way, you could complete the job and keep the boys happy.
“So, are you going to do it?”
You whip around fast, too fast. So fast that you end up losing your balance and having to catch yourself on the solid chest of Kim Taehyung.
“Careful there.” He says, grinning down at you.
You push yourself off of him and he grabs your hand before you completely extricate yourself. You ask, trying to cool your blush, “Am I going to do what?”
He leans in, pulling you toward him again, and leans down to whisper, loudly, in your ear as several giggling staff walk past, “Are you going to ruin me?”
The staff’s laughs get louder as they hear the intimate sounding question, their laughs mingling with several other male laughs that you realize you recognize.
You turn, blushing vermillion, to see Beomgyu, Soobin, and Yeonjun laughing as they greet their sunbae.
“Hello, how have you guys been? Getting ready for your comeback?” Tae says, still holding you to him with an arm around your shoulder.
A still laughing Beomgyu gets a subtle look from leader Soobin and a gentle shove from Yeonjun before any of them answer.
“Yes, hyung.” Soobin says grinning at you, “We’re almost ready we’re headed to get our hair done actually. How are you two doing?”
Pulling back from you slightly Tae turns to look you up and down with a smirk on his face. “Oh, I don’t think we could be doing much better, don’t you think noona?”
You bite your tongue hard in an effort to stop the blush rising up your face. “Yep, all’s good here. You guys have fun getting your hair done!”
Your efforts at a quiet escape are foiled though when Tae practically yells after you saying, “Don’t worry about her, she’s just feeling a little shy. I’ll love it out of her though!”
The laughs of the boys chase you down the hall and just when you think you’ve gotten away from uncomfortable interactions for the day you run into an unexpected one.
It’s your first full day back at work since it was announced that you and Taehyung were dating. The death threats are still raging, but you couldn’t stand just being at home anymore, with nothing to do but wait for Taehyung or a body guard to show up and escort you to wherever you were going to be that day.
You’d only just convinced Tae and the other staff members to at least let you work last night before you’d let slip your real intentions for being at Hybe Labels. And now, here you are running from your embarrassing boyfriend only to run right into Bang PD. “Ah, I was just going to come find you.”
You freeze, partly in shock, and partly because it’s the polite thing to do — to stop and listen to your boss. “Me, sir?”
“Yes, I wanted to see if you would be up to traveling with the boys? They’re going to the Grammy’s and I’d like to send you to be their main interpreter.”
“I can do that?” You mean to say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question.
“Of course, if you’re willing to. I know the threats are still out there, and of course we’ll provide protection for you and the boys. I think it might be a good opportunity to get ARMY more used to seeing you and Taehyung together as well.”
He smiles at you, but before too long it shifts to be smiling at something behind you. You know who it must be, it’s the man you’d been running away from only moments earlier. You don’t turn around, and you know somehow that he doesn’t expect you to either. This decision isn’t about him, or at least it shouldn’t be completely about him, and it only belongs to you. So, it’s with a good amount of confidence that you answer finally, “I’d be happy to do that, sir.”
—
There’s an unusual rush as you watch the seven boys, twenty staff members, and thirteen bodyguards get ready to leave for the States. You’re sitting comfortably in your designated vehicle trying not to laugh out loud at Namjoon having forgotten his luggage and Jimin wearing mismatched slippers.
In the middle of the chaos you see one particularly fluffy-haired and well dressed man eyeing the vans. He goes over to his manager, speaks a few words and then heads toward your van with his bag on his shoulder, his luggage left behind for someone else to be in charge of.
“Morning.” You smile at him as he climbs into the van beside you, immediately snuggling up to you and asking if he can go back to sleep.
Your smile is so natural it almost hurts, especially when he sleepily whispers, “You haven’t ruined me yet.”
The smile on your face drops slightly and you look toward the sleeping man beside you as you say, “Not yet.”
—
If anything the arrival at the airport is more chaotic than leaving the apartments with the amount of people and directions being given. There are an insane amount of reporters waiting for the boys to take enough photos to blind any natural human being. You’re dragged into the photo frenzy, both in the fact that someone caught sight of you with the stylists and then later when because of that chaos you were pulled up to stand with Tae for a couple of photos.
You extricate yourself from Tae shortly thereafter, in an effort to avoid too much media attention. Now you’re here fighting off claustrophobia as you are pushing through the crowds in the airport following behind BTS near the stylists.
You’re amazed, watching the boys as they wave, sometimes smile, and otherwise engage with ARMY and photographers alike rather than losing it and yelling or crying like you’re tempted to do. They’re the calm amidst the storm of people and they’re the only thing anchoring you and keeping you from losing it completely. But that’s when the storm gets worse.
Someone starts yelling, different yelling than you had heard before. This isn’t the excited and happy yelling, it’s angry, horribly so. And your name is being tossed around amid all of the yelling as well. You see Tae stiffen from where he stands between Jimin and Jungook. It’s slight, you probably wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been watching him the entire time. But you had been, and the second they start degrading you, he stiffens.
He turns it’s not even two seconds worth of time that he makes eye contact with you, but it’s enough apparently to set the crowd of people off.
Because suddenly the crowd isn’t just packed, it’s pressing. Pressing in on you and everyone around you, and you’re separated from the group. Then panic of being separated is far more palpable now than the panic of possible claustrophobia and hyperventilation. You are frantic for a moment, when someone is grabbing your jacket and it tears. Another person steps on your foot so hard you think for a moment that it might be broken. Yet another person grabs your hair and yanks, although that one might not have been intentional, they may have simply been trying to stay upright themselves in the onslaught, but it hurts.
Someone near you screams, in terror this time, and you hear them shout something about a knife. When you’re pulled away, finally put back near the people you were meant to be with, by a body guard.
But the panic doesn’t stop. It doesn’t stop as you and thirty other people run to and through security. It doesn’t stop until you make it to the first class lounge area, having been pushed forward to join Taehyung and the others. And then you finally have a moment to catch your breath and possibly relax.
You’re surrounded by exclamations of “Are you okay?” And “Did anyone hurt you?” When Taehyung pushes his friends aside and pulls you into himself.
“I’m sorry.” He whimpers as he holds you, the caress to your head somehow soothing the burn from where hair had been yanked only moments earlier. “I should have kept you with me after we got out of the van. I didn’t know they would be here. I didn’t think it would be like that. I’m so sorry.”
You smile, soothing the man, and promising him that it’s not his fault. “How would you have known? And there’s no way I would have stayed with you the whole time, it would have been worse probably if we had been together walking through there.”
You push yourself out of his arms to look at him when you remember the frantic shouts about a knife being in the midst of that crowd.
“Are you okay though? I heard that someone had a knife. Did you get hurt?”
You hold him at arms length and look over him, inspecting him for any wounds, when you see the blood on his jacket. It’s fresh and stains the brown blazer in a horribly beautiful way.
“Tae!” You cry, reaching for his jacket and shoving it aside to see the wound it’s hiding.
He panics too, at your frightened cry, but when you push his jacket aside it doesn’t register that there isn’t blood on the shirt beneath it. It doesn’t register that he’s not wounded until you’ve lifted his shirt and run your fingers across the smooth skin of his stomach and side.
“But your jacket, someone must have gotten hurt.” You turn to check the other six men only to see them staring at you wide eyed and unmoving. “Who is it? Who’s hurt, we need to get you treated!”
You’re shouting now. Frantic. Panicked. And light headed from the panic.
“Noona?” Tae whimpers as Yoongi runs out of the lounge, “Noona? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it's my fault.”
His eyes aren’t looking at your face though. Instead they’re staring at your abdomen. At your left side, so be more precise. You brush your hand against your side and are shocked when it comes back covered in warm blood.
“No, but…” You’re staring at your hand, and the blood that covers it, your head is spinning now. Your heart rate still hasn’t slowed down from the sprint earlier. Your hearing is dull now too, like you’re swimming underwater.
You look up again, finally pulling your eyes up from the blood covered hand to stare at the six men standing in front of you in various states of disbelief. The only ones who aren’t in shock seem to be Yoongi, who so quickly left the room earlier, and Namjoon who is speaking rapidly and quietly on the phone.
“Thank heavens.” You whisper finally, and those who weren’t already looking in your eyes were now. “Thank heavens it wasn’t one of you.”
And finally, you collapse.
—
You hear beeping, three different machines? you think to yourself. You’re not sure where you are. The last you recall was being in the 1st class lounge with BTS. But it’s obvious you’re not there anymore.
You feel oddly numb, void of much feeling or emotion. But there’s that beeping that is keeping you focused. Beeping and…cheering?
You force your eyes to open enough to see that you’re in the hospital. You’re not surprised by that fact, not after the airport. It’s the voices outside the door that have you surprised.
“It’s amazing that she didn’t notice it earlier, I’m glad that we were able to get here here fast enough. You know, she lost a lot of blood. In surgery we were able to repair her liver, and kidney that were each injured by the stabbing. My biggest concern now is that she doesn’t split her stitches. It’s a miracle she didn’t notice it to begin with. It’s one of the worse knife wounds I’ve seen, for sure.”
You take a deep breath, only to feel the a sharp stabbing sensation in your side, no doubt from the stitches the doctor was talking about.
“Do you know what her life has been like? We couldn’t help but notice several other large scars on her body while we were in surgery.”
“I don’t know.” Another voice answers, “She’s my best friend’s girlfriend, he can’t be here right now and asked me to watch out for her.”
“Ah, okay.” The doctor mutters, “Well, just watch out for her. She should keep up on her fluids, and meals. We’ll need her to stay in the hospital for about a week.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
You decide that you’ll fake being asleep when the cheering from the television suddenly gets louder. You finally look at it to see what’s airing only to find that it’s the Grammys.
“You’re awake?” You hear from the door, and turn to see Park Seo Joon standing there. “Are you actually awake or are you still out of it?”
You smile slightly before answering the handsome actor, “I feel pretty awake.”
He laughs, “Need more pain meds?”
You give him a slight shake of your head before turning back to the television. “Is he okay?”
Seo Joon sits in the armchair adjacent to your bed before answering. “Not really. He’s more okay knowing that you’re going to be okay though. It took a lot to convince him to leave you and go.”
You feel a tear roll down your cheek, “He’s there, right?”
“He’s there.” Seo Joon reassures, “He left us in charge of your care for the next couple of days. We’ve been taking shifts.”
“We?” You ask, trying not to actually cry.
“Me, Hyung Sik, Wooshik, and Sung-hwan.”
You nod, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”
He laughs, “He said you’d do that. Apologize. He also said to tell you not to.”
The cheers from the television are picking up again, drawing your attention to what’s going on the other side of the world.
“This isn’t your fault.” Seo Joon whispers, as the boys take the stage.
It’s not the stage you expected. Not at all. You hold your breath for a moment, waiting for Jungkook to open “Butter”, but it’s not “Butter”.
“He wanted to tell you that you should find out who hired you.” Seo Joon says as Jungkook starts singing. Not in English, or Korean, but in Japanese.
By the time the first chorus hits you’re crying and you can’t tell anymore if it’s from the emotional pain or the physical pain you’re in.
Doctors and nurses rush in, with needles at the ready as you’re sedated once again you hear Tae sing: ”I’m ready to let go.”
—
When you come around again it’s to see there has been a shift change as Park Hyungsik sits next to you now, on a video call with Tae. Both of you end up crying during the call as he assures you again and again that it’s not your fault.
“You didn’t ruin me. I knew you wouldn’t be able to. So I, we, decided to let go instead. I’ll be home in a few days, and we’ll talk. All of us need to talk.”
—
They finished their final concert in Vegas, and came home, all while you were stuck in the hospital.
You’re antsy to leave it, to meet them at their apartment, but the doctor insists, and Taehyung insists, that you stay put. So you do. That’s why it’s in the hospital room that you see the seven men again.
They bring warm words and kind gifts when they come back from their adventure across the world. But the warmth is quickly compounded when Namjoon suddenly says, “We hired you.”
“What?” You say, genuinely concerned.
“We know that you were hired to come here and ruin us, our careers. That’s because we hired you. I mean, we didn’t know we hired you, but you get the gist, right?”
Namjoon is leaving you more confused the more he speaks, so Yoongi takes over.
“We didn’t know how else to bring this part of our careers to a close. We’re tired, we wanted some more normalcy to our lives, to step back from where we were. We heard of an organization that was discrete, who we could pay to have someone else finish the job for us. We heard that they weren’t picky about who the job was for, or who would be affected by it. So we called a meeting with your boss and put in the job. We didn’t know it would be you, we didn’t know what would happen. All we knew was that we were desperate.
“So, we decided to let you end it. When you showed up it surprised us how quick it all was moving, how nice and funny, and young you were. But then Taehyung started to like you, even though he knew about your job, he wanted to date you. And we thought maybe that would work. It did. It worked, you gave us an out.”
“We’re sorry, so sorry that you got hurt because of us.” Jungkook says.
Tae still hasn’t spoken a word, and now you get it. He feels guilty. That’s why.
“Taehyung-ah.” You say, as softly as you can, “I don’t blame any of you, definitely not you. I only blame the person holding the knife. And I’m honestly glad it was me that got hurt, rather than any of you.”
He looks at you then, finally really looks at you, and speaks, “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not.” You smile.
He comes to you, finally, and holds your hand. “I love you.”
You smile, “I love you.”
The others filed out at some point, you notice, as both you and Taehyung come to terms with things together.
“So, you’re career?”
He smiles, unreservedly, “We’ve put it on an indefinite hiatus. People have been a bit touchy about it. But it’s okay, it’s what all of us were looking for. We let go.”
You sit in silence for a time then. Just enjoying the quiet space to be together, and you know you almost fall asleep before hearing him say quietly, “I told you to ruin me. Thank you for doing so.”
Synopsis: Your job is whatever people need it to be, you've murdered the opposition, spied, stolen trade secrets, and now, you've been called in to destroy the biggest boy group in the world. Will you be able to do it after getting to know them?
Series Warnings: Murder, blood, lies, angst, betrayal.
Words: 2.5k
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
The silence after your affirmation hits hard. Everyone in the room stops breathing, and in that moment you become painfully aware that no one expected you to take Taehyung up on his offer of dating.
Any doubts that may have been lingering were further removed when Yoongi suddenly answered, “Wait, really?”
You break eye contact with your wide-eyed new boyfriend, to meet the equally wide eyes of the other six men surrounding him. “Was I supposed to say no?”
Bang Si Hyuk laughs at your candid response before you continue. “I mean, I dislike getting death threats as much as anyone would, but since I’m already receiving them I might as well go along. Right?”
“But aren’t you here to —“ Namjoon is quickly shut up before his sentence can be completed.
“Work. She’s here to work, not to date.” Yoongi supplies, all while watching a rather chagrined Namjoon.
“True,” You agree. “But, this could just be another facet of work. Come here, hang out with you guys, act as interpreter. Take pictures with Taehyung, hang out together. Is it really that different?”
“If it’s not different then what’s the point?” Taehyung asks, giving you real pause, “If it’s not meaningful, when why bother. I’m not going to outrightly lie to ARMY, or to myself. If we’re dating, then it’s real.”
You open your mouth to defend your idea to the room again when Bang PD speaks up. “I think we should let the two of you talk this out together, let us know what you decide.”
You’ve been in some uncomfortable meetings yourself before, some meetings that you were counting down the minutes on, but you’ve never seen a room clear out so quickly. Ever.
The only people that hesitate to run from the room are the other members. And the only reason they seem to pause is because Tae asks them to. “Can the members stay? They will need to know what we decide anyway.”
Hobi is the one to shut him down on that idea though, “Tae, is the relationship between the two of you? Or the eight of us?”
And without another word, or waiting for an answer from their member, they walk away. Leaving the two of you in a room far too large for this intimate conversation.
“I’m sorry.” He mutters, moments after being left alone. “You shouldn’t have to be going through this right now, and if you hate the idea of dating me I understand.”
You’re staring at the table, you know that you should look at him, talk to him. But the grain of the wood suddenly has you ensnared and the ticking of the clock on the wall seems to be counting away your life. The “tick tock” suddenly sounding like the death threats and horrible comments you’ve read about yourself in the past handful of hours, and it’s all you can think about.
“Noona?” He says, and you hear his chair roll away before he’s suddenly made his way across the table and right next to you. “I promise I’ll listen to your thoughts, just tell me.”
You manage to look up from the table, and to mentally silence the ticking time bomb behind you, pushing aside the thoughts of threats.
You look into his brown eyes, having to look past the locks of brown messy hair, and you ask a genuine question. Not thinking about the job to destroy this man’s career, not thinking about the backlash from Arturo, not thinking about the seemingly thousands of people ready to rip your throat our with their teeth for breathing the same air as these men; just thinking about you, and yourself. “Do you want to date me?”
He stares back at you, giving you seven seconds of actual thought before he answers. “Yes.”
You nod, grateful that he took the question seriously.
“Do you want to date me?” He asks, straightforward, not breaking eye contact.
And you actually consider it. Do you want to date Kim Taehyung, one of the most handsome, most well known human beings on the planet? Not as a job, but as a person.
Swallowing, you answer, “Yes.”
He gives you a boxy grin, and then grabs his phone, not saying anything to you as he whips open the camera and raises his arm to take a picture. “Smile, Noona.”
You don’t even look at the camera, instead you smile at the man you’re dating, as he takes a photo with his boxy grin and uncontrollable laughter.
You laugh yourself, partly out of disbelief, when you notice he’s pulled up a group chat.
“Are you sending that to the members?”
“Hmm? Oh, no! I’m sending it to my Hyungs.” He doesn’t even look up from his texting, which texting you had been reading over his shoulder before his statement left you utterly confused.
“Your hyungs? Which hyungs?”
He rapid fires another group message, this one clearly to the members and Bang PD — and you file away for future reference that BTS have a group chat with Bang PD — before answering. “Which hyungs? Oh! I sent it to —“
The sudden buzzing on the table interrupting his thought, but also answering your question when you see the Group FaceTime call coming through.
“Oh, those hyungs.” You say, smiling, still in shock. “I’ll let you talk to them, I’m going to go talk to the PR crew.”
“Noona, wait!”
You turn back to see that he’s answered the call, and you’re now on camera with the very shocked faces of the Wooga Squad members. All of whom are in various states of disarray.
“Noona?!” Hyungsik asks first, “Is this the girl you’re dating?”
“When did you start dating someone?” Seo Joon adds.
Woo Sik just smiles, “She’s pretty, Taehyung-ah. Congratulations.”
You bow quickly, saying hello and goodbye in the same breath, before running for the door. It’s nearly closed when you hear Tae begin to answer their rapid-fire questions. “I started dating about two minutes ago. Yes, that’s the girl I’m dating. And you’re right she’s very pretty.”
You smile to yourself and wonder, for the first of who knows how many times, just what it is you’ve gotten yourself into.
Walking through the halls of Hybe, you’re reminded, forcefully, of the success that Taehyung and the other members have achieved. The fact that their success practically built a large portion of the company you’re now in. And that their success is something you’re here to put a stop to. How on earth am I going to do my job now?
___
The whirlwind of the past few days has been insane. There was a hot debate over whether the company should post a staged photo of you and Taehyung, or if they should post something more natural, like a selfie of the two of you (you compromised, having Jungkook take a candid photo to be posted). You’ve moved apartments, gone on a slightly awkward staged date, and had interviews with the staff for Weverse Magazine, as well as an interview with Taehyungs parents. The parent interview was simultaneously more and less formal than the magazine interview, but somehow you’d managed to pass.
You’d also had to change your phone number twice, been told to not order any packages and to avoid checking your mail for the next few weeks. The only people you’re in contact with now are Hybe artists and employees. You still have your burner though, and your actual personal phone, in case your sister (your only living relative that you’d actually care to speak to) ever needs to reach you. The likelihood of that, however is slim.
Even with the precautions, the threats, harsh comments, and all around negative feelings still get to you.
The moon was high in the mostly clear sky, a beautiful and welcoming sight despite the bite in the air. But that didn’t detract from the novelty of the evening. Sitting on a bench looking out over the Han River, wrapped in a coat that was more expensive than you could possibly justify. A coat that you still found yourself using heat packs with, even.
“Noona?” You hear to your left.
You’d nearly forgotten that he was there, not that it’s possible to actually forget that Kim Taehyung, insanely handsome world star, is sitting next to you.
You turn to face him and are struck yet again at how handsome he is, his boxy smile only making your heart flutter more. “Your hot chocolate?”
You smile, taking the drink from him. No doubt a staff member had gone out to get the warm beverage for you both.
“Ah, yes, thank you.” You can’t look at him for long. The novelty of dating him still leaves you reeling, even though it’s been three whole days. From a distance you swear you can hear the incessant shutter clicks of a camera — the Hybe staff taking as many pictures as possible in the past three days so that they have something to give to ARMY, in an effort to pacify some, and excite others.
“How are you doing with all of this?” Taehyung asks, brown eyes soft as he takes you in.
“How are you doing? I’m not having to still interact with ARMY like you are.”
He reaches up, catching a strand of stray hair to tuck behind your ear, his hand lingering near your jaw for a moment longer than is necessary and you wonder if it’s for the camera or for himself.
“It hurts.”
You’ve noticed that Taehyung does that. He talks in short, concise sentences. Saying what he needs to and not much more.
You’re also learning to wait him out, rather than prodding for more information.
“It hurts that they’re attacking you, that they say they’re disappointed in me. That so many of them can’t just be happy for us. But there are those, more than there are negative people, who are happy for us. I’m grateful for those ARMY that are happy to see me happy, but I still feel bad.”
He looks so young in that moment. His eyes had fallen from your face to stare at the river in front of you while he was speaking, and he looks his age for once. He looks like a young man who is just trying to please the people around him, and make a space for himself in the world. It’s not the first time in the past three days that you’ve wondered if you’ve actually done him a disservice by agreeing to date him in the first place.
“I feel bad, Y/n.” He says, turning to look at you again, taking your hand in his own and interlocking fingers, “I feel bad for being happy.”
The boxy smile is back, but for the first time it doesn’t look like a carefree smile on a handsome face. Instead it looks like the world has torn a piece out of him, and all he can do is smile to pretend otherwise.
He has that look on his face, the one that would typically lead you to close the deal, to finish your job and move on. Wide eyes, rosy cheeks, an openness to him that tells you he trusts you, that he wouldn’t question your actions. But you’re not sure you can pull the trigger this time.
This man who has been by your side, and you by his for the past three days of hell. This man, who snapped a photo of you when you fell asleep on the IKEA couch in the waiting room and then immediately set that photo as his lock screen. The man who texts and calls to make sure you’re happy, safe, home, asleep, or awake. Even when he’s got practice and recordings, interviews and responsibilities.
He trusts you, and for the first time in fifteen years, you don’t trust yourself. A tear slides onto your cheek, and he wipes it away before you realize you were crying.
“Are you happy?” He asks, quietly, searching.
It’s your turn to look at the river now, to contemplate what happiness is and if you’re feeling it.
A couple walks past you both, not even look in your direction as they feed each other fishcakes and laugh together. Is that what happiness is? Fishcakes and laughter?
“It’s so hard.” You finally mutter, “It’s hard knowing what’s being said, that people want me dead, that you’re suffering. But I forget the hard sometimes. Besides, without it being hard, it wouldn’t be rewarding. Without feeling sad sometimes I wouldn’t know what happiness is.”
You turn to look at Tae again, Tae who hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he asked his question. “I’m happy with you.”
He doesn’t smile, neither do you. It feels, somehow, as though you’re past that for tonight. Instead he nods, and stands, waving off the staff and the camera. “Let’s go. Let’s be happy with each other.”
And so you do, you push aside the thoughts of the job, of the public opinions, the death threats and the well wishes, and you focus on each other as you walk beside each other and the river, hand in hand.
He hums a tune as you walk, eventually wrapping an arm around you to hold you closer.
“Noona,” he says after some time. “I like you.”
“What?”
“I just realized, I never confessed to you, we just jumped into dating. But I do. I like you. I like the way you’re smart and don’t let things get in the way of what you’re doing. I like that you’re good at the stupid games we like to play. I like that you get along with the members, and the way you were so kind to my parents. I like the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. And I like the way you tell people about what you’re feeling. I liked you before I said we should date, and I’m glad we’re dating.”
The sudden lump in your throat makes it hard to talk, let alone breathe, but you push it aside.
“You’re looking at me like I just said something absurd.” He chuckles nervously. “You don’t have to say you like me though, don’t feel pressured.”
But that’s not it. It’s not that you don’t like him. It’s that the last boy who confessed to liking you was in fourth grade, the fact that other than the “dates” you went on for the sake of jobs, dating Taehyung was the first actual dating and relationship you had. It’s the fact that this feels very real now.
And, it’s the fact that you do like him. You like Kim Taehyung. Perhaps more than you should, because in the next moment you hear yourself saying something that leaves you absolutely shocked.
“I was sent here to ruin your career.”
He doesn’t flinch, he barely reacts at all, only to say, “Then ruin it.”
Synopsis: Your job is whatever people need it to be, you've murdered the opposition, spied, stolen trade secrets, and now, you've been called in to destroy the biggest boy group in the world. Will you be able to do it after getting to know them?
Series Warnings: Murder, blood, lies, angst, betrayal.
Words: 1.7k
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
“You’re supposed to ruin them, not whatever that was!” You’re surprised the rest of the world around you is oblivious to the yelling coming through your headphones.
Arturo is pissed, to say the least. “How is this part of your plan? Do you even have a plan at this point? Or have you finally met your match with this one?”
You open your mouth to respond only to close it as he picks up speed once more, “Not to even breach the fact that you put your face all over the world with this one. Your main asset is that people don’t know you. Then you went on international television with the biggest group in the world? Have you completely lost your mind? I am six seconds away from terminating this contract for you and giving the job to someone else!”
Your lean your head against the wall behind you, offering half a smile to TXT’s manager as they walk past you. Tuning out Arturo’s rage for the moment.
It’s the first time you’ve ever gotten yelled at by Arturo. First time he’s contacted you mid-job too. As a rule, you were the one to contact him, and only when things were taken care of. But this reprimanding, you were pretty sure, was going to be tame compared to the meeting you had in forty minutes with Bang PD.
“So, which is it? Is this part of the plan? Or are you giving up?”
The end of the line is silent for long enough to clue you in to the fact that he wants an answer this time. Looking around at the few people milling about you decide it will be best to switch to Italian, rather than English, and just pray that no one can understand, or that if they can your “code” talk is encoded enough.
“Of course. I’ll take care of it, I know exactly where I can get that kind of tea leaves.”
“You’d better make this happen. Do I need to move the timetable up? Or can you handle the backlash?” He asks, sounding a tad bit concerned for his favorite asset.
“No, my schedule is the same as last week, so we don’t need to change the appointment.”
“Good.”
Without another word he hangs up, leaving you to “end” the conversation naturally on your own for the sake of any possible listening ears. Thankfully, you think, Yoongi rounds the corner and makes a bee line for you at that same moment.
“No problem, I’ll talk to you later then. Thanks! Bye!”
Yoongi stops a few feet away, waiting for you to take out your headphones politely, “Sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s no interruption. What’s up?” You ask, smiling a bit cautiously.
Yoongi motions toward the seat next to you, a silent question. When you nod he sits down at the edge of the seat. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing, I hope things haven’t been too bad for you.”
When you look into his eyes your breath catches at the amount of genuine concern there. It’s in his eyes, in the solemn smile, and the way his hands clasp each other.
You find your own mouth curling into a soft smile when you answer, “Honestly? I think I’m doing alright, all threats considered. I’m just happy I’m still here, for now at least.”
“Only happy for now? Or only here for now?” He asks with a nervous chuckle.
“Well, if these death threats have any say in things, then I guess I mean here.” Standing, you toss your empty coffee cup in the nearby garbage and turn back to him only to find him standing closer than you anticipated.
“They won’t be able to get to you, I promise.” The smile is gone from his face now, you’ve seen this face before. The face he’s showing you. Not in person, but on video clips, and in certain photos, it’s the face he makes when he’s making music. It’s serious, concentrated, determined. Your hand twitches, and you almost reach up to cover your own fluttering heart, when he speaks again, “I think it’s time to meet with Bang PD-nim.”
You watch the man walking away from your for a solid ten seconds, asking yourself what on earth has gotten in to you, before you follow after him. It’s another fifteen seconds before you put together what he just said.
“Wait.” You stop in your tracks, “Are you coming to that meeting too?”
Yoongi doesn’t even break stride when he answers, already twelve steps ahead of you again, “Of course. We all are.”
***
While it’s not completely shocking to find yourself in this meeting, you feel comfortable saying that you never would have thought that this would happen. That you would be in a meeting with all seven members of BTS, and the legendary Bang Si Hyuck, not to mention the team of HR and PR people that have trickled in for the past minute or so before the meeting officially starts.
Taehyung had come over to you the second you walked in the door, with RM and Jimin following quickly behind. They’d asked how you’re doing and if you need anything, to which you didn’t know how to reply.
I’m here to destroy them, to ruin their career. They aren’t my friends, they are just a job. You keep repeating the mantra in your head, if you had to guess you’d have to say you’d repeated those sentences probably thirty times in the past four minutes.
The struggle wasn’t that the job was daunting — although that was true — rather the struggle was that these men really were so kind. They were so welcoming and genuine. You weren’t sure that you would be able to find anything to destroy them with, let alone want to destroy them.
It’s an 8 figure job. You have to do this. You can do this. You will do this.
“Are we all here now?” Bang PD says, signaling the official start of the meeting. “Alright, we all know why we’re here. First, we need to protect and ensure the safety of our artists and our staff.”
He turns to face you directly while motioning to the screen at the other side of the room. “As you can see, and I’m sure you’re already aware, there have been multiple threats to your life after the airing of the interview. Some of them are quite detailed, and somewhat graphic. We’re tracking them down as fast as we can but they’re also still coming in. You need to be extra careful. If you’d like we can assign a bodyguard to you. We’re also going to move you into a different apartment that offers better security. Especially as we have reason to suspect that some netizens have already found your current address.”
Death, the possibility of your own, and the death of others is not a foreign concept to you. It’s something you came to grips with when you started this line of work. But that’s not who these people think you are. You remind yourself that you’re supposed to be a somewhat timid, naïve, and excitable young woman. With that reminder you jerkily turn to look at the screen and some of the displayed death threats.
“They know where I live?” You ask, with a bit of a shake in your voice. Then, shaking your head you quietly respond, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think. I should have come up with a solution faster, then you wouldn’t be going through all of this trouble.”
“Noona.” Taehyung says rather forcefully, “This is not your fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to sit in on the interview, I’m sorry.”
“If it’s anyone’s fault that this is how ARMY reacts, then it’s mine.” Bang PD surprises you with this statement, “We’ve created a culture where idol’s can’t date and be typical people without people losing their minds. I should have done more to try and change that culture so that this wouldn’t be so much of a problem.”
“But we’re not dating.” You say quietly, eyes big. “I promise.”
“If you were though, that shouldn’t be reason for you to be threatened like this.” Bang PD continues.
A throat clears from the PR crowd and it takes you a minute to figure out where it came from, but then you see her. She’s pretty, round face, long dark hair, laptop sitting in front of her. And her eyes, you’re surprised to find, are on you rather than Bang PD.
“If I may?”
A nod from the boss.
“We could use this as an opportunity to get the fans used to the idea of the boys dating. A dry-run almost. Sacrificing one couple for the sake of the others down the line. I mean, they’re going to date and get married at some point anyway.”
There’s silence after her statement, and in that silence you’re suddenly very aware of your breathing, and the steady lub-dub of your heart.
“Noona?” Jungkook says, finally pulling your attention back to the surface.
“Yes?”
“Would you be okay with that?” Namjoon asks.
“Sorry? Okay with what? I just am a little lost.” You say, offering a nervous chuckle that you’re not sure was completely fake.
“What if we dated? To get the fans used to the idea that we’re not just idols, but also people?” Taehyung is the one who answers you. He looks you right in the eye when he says it, not blinking, without so much as a hint of a tremor in his voice or his confidence. Like he didn’t just suggest that you, a nobody who purposefully has flown far below the radar your whole life, date a world superstar. As if that isn’t a completely natural intuitive leap, for you and everyone else at the table.
“So, we would let the world think we’re dating, so that they can get used to the idea of you guys dating people?” You ask, verifying what you just heard.
There it is, the tremor, the crack in the armor, as Taehyung looks down to his hands, clasped on the table in front of him. “No. I don’t want to pretend. Either it’s real, or we don’t do it.”
Yoongi reaches over, placing a hand on Tae’s shoulder and squeezing gently.
Your eyes meet Yoongi’s, then Tae’s before they land on Tae’s hands again. His hands that, until this moment, you didn’t noticed were in a white-knuckle grip on each other.
Turning, you see a smiling Bang PD, and then, looking back into Tae’s eyes you do perhaps the stupidest thing to date. While thinking to yourself Arturo’s going to kill me. You answer the man across from you, “Okay. Let’s date.”
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