Regardless, despite how obvious it was that Namjoon had probably done the worst mistake of his life when he concluded that they needed to reject their last soulmate, it hadn’t been before. He couldn’t have known: information was so little about groups of soulmates that Namjoon had taken it over himself to find information and find a solution. His logic had been perfect, calculating every odd and making sure everything would be perfect and work out, but after years of thinking and guilt eating him alive, Namjoon desperately wished he did differently. As he read her replies to his messages, it was obvious that she also thought the same way. And she was right; he could have explained, he should have told her instead of breaking her past the point of no return, but what if it had gone wrong? What if they had bonded accidentally despite the physical distance and that their bond had started attacking her? How could he have forgiven himself if he didn't try to push her away and keep her safe from them? Realistically, he knew that he had not kept her as safe as he had wished. He had only pushed her to another outcome, hoping and praying for her to stay alive. Maybe that had been the solution of a coward who had refused to see the impact of his words, yet according to his calculation, she truly had a better chance of survival that way. That had been his logic and while Taehyung had been crying, begging him not to do it, to find another solution because, in his eyes, they couldn’t lose another soulmate because of Yongsun, Namjoon hadn't found any other way to protect her and he hated himself for it.

He wished he had found something else, he truly did. Oh, he could rant for hours about how he dreamt of a universe, a very, very, oh so lovely one, in which he told his soulmate everything, from the beginning to the end, explaining how he truly wanted only the best for her and knew that they couldn't be that best momentarily and that they might never be. He used to be stuck on how cruel that felt when he realized what it meant to him and his other soulmates. They might never be suited to welcome their last soulmate without killing her, and the realization crushed Namjoon to the ground.

Yongsun didn't just take a part of their youth with her, she took their hopes and dreams away, brushing every single wish they used to entertain to finally be complete. She left them yearning and empty, darkness surrounding their lives while they wondered if they’d ever see the sun again. They had waited so long for their last soulmate to finally show up, to get to meet her and start getting to know her, only for that person to play them, ruin them and leave nothing but crumbled hearts and dried tears behind. If Taehyung believed that he was the one at fault in the story, Namjoon would beg to differ. If someone failed to protect his soulmates, it was him, not Taehyung. 

Yongsun had been desperate; that was what Seokjin said, but Namjoon had never been able to care about her reasons. He could only laugh at that. Oh, if he wasn’t desperate himself to find back a piece of himself, of the young man that used to dream about his soulmates and not the guilt-ridden bitter man that he was used to meeting every morning in the mirror. Namjoon used to think of soulmates as a source of comfort and warmth. It was now only a source of stress and disappointment. A disappointment that Namjoon hated to be. If he had to pick one person to be the worst soulmate ever, he would choose himself in a heartbeat. Seokjin had tried to talk to him, to soften the edges of his turmoil, of the terrible anger that was consuming his whole being, alas to no avail. Namjoon's anger never burned out, only fueling him to search for more answers about their bond and to write more about his discoveries. His hands giving up on him had only been a dull reminder of the never-ending anger that was wide awake inside him. How could he ever explain why he was so angry at the world, at Yongsun, at everyone for allowing such a thing to happen to them, to him, to his soulmates? Why did no one rescue them? Why did no one help them? How could money get Yongsun safe after everything she did to them? He laughed again; the world had never been fair, yet Namjoon had never believed that their system would abandon them so cruelly. Even now that they were financially well off, their mind did not let them try to sue her, tired of being constantly in a fight with the person that destroyed their lives. None of them wanted to deal with her any longer. The simple thought of seeing her again sent chills to their spines, and starting the paperwork seemed insurmountable; it annoyed Namjoon. It only fueled his anger again, adding charcoal to his already hardly controllable fire. 

Namjoon was angry and everyone thought that his anger would slowly vanish, yet it only grew. That was maybe because he slowly realized how far Yongsun had gone to make sure everything would unfold the way she had expected it to. He saw the marks on Taehyung's skin, he saw the fear in Seokjin's orbs, and he saw death in Yoongi's ones. Namjoon heard Hoseok's broken cries, Jimin's silent gulps as he left quietly, avoiding fights and leaving everyone behind as much as he could, and Namjoon heard Jungkook's soul breaking each time a fight arose in their apartment. It was often silent, none of them wanting to admit how bad it was even once Yongsun was gone but they all knew that things would never go back to how they used to be. Namjoon rarely saw his soulmates smile as carefree as they once did and maybe, just maybe, that was also one of the reasons for his never-ending anger.

Yet, maybe what truly broke him was to see the despair in his eighth soulmate's eyes when he told her the words that he would forever regret. "Your name means nothing to us." If only that had been the truth, he wouldn’t be waiting for her to reply by now, eyes boring into his screen. Namjoon wished that it had been the truth. Her name meant so much, from hope to despair. Her name meant the world, and it meant dread. It held so much over them that it frightened him. His logic behind their rejection had been flawless, however, his fear of letting someone else hold so much power over them again was totally irrational. He had been terrorized to see the same scenario unfold because after all if someone was capable of doing what Yongsun did to them, how could they be sure that it wouldn’t happen ever again? Namjoon had been terrified at the simple thought, perhaps that had flawed his convictions as much as he claimed that it wasn’t the case. Because once he set that fear aside, the only thing that was left was his anger and his guilt.

How could he ever face her after all the damage he did, even if his intentions had been noble and his heart had simply been in the wrong place? He never thought he’d ever be able to face her again after everything he said, settling for knowing she was alive and living a life of fame and love. If Namjoon couldn’t give her all the love he had for her, he hoped that her fans would make the difference, somehow. (It was foolish of him to think, but he couldn’t help it, he only wanted the best for her). He tried to interact with her as her fan, but it felt wrong as if he was using anonymity to be close to her again, so he stopped as soon as he started. He couldn’t be that person to her, he had doomed himself already. Namjoon believed that he would never see her again, that he would only hear of her from now on that she was a celebrity. Oh, how naive he was.

He did meet her again and he hadn't known if he should be excited or terrified. Namjoon faced her in that hospital bed; he watched as her already pale face lost any trace of color after her eyes rested on his frame. He had not known what she had been thinking once she had realized who he was, but Namjoon had been pretty sure that he must have looked closer to a monster than a soulmate in her eyes. And could he blame her? Not at all. He just wished it was different. Maybe in another life, he'd get to make amends, to cherish her as much as he could, hold her tight against his chest and protect her from the rest of the world. Maybe in another timeline, he'd get to call her at 4 am just because he couldn't sleep and needed to hear her voice, even if she was in the room next to his. Maybe he'd buy a cute shirt for her, just because he thought of her as he saw it. Perhaps he'd pick her up from work, ask her how her day went, and give her a cup of coffee that he ordered from her favorite coffee shop just because he had shown up 10 minutes early.

Namjoon's anger might never die out because he knew that this would never be his reality and, to be honest, he knew that he did that to himself. Or did he really? Wasn't it mainly Yongsun's fault? If only Namjoon could put the blame on someone else than him, maybe he’d feel a little bit more alive. But how could he blame it on her when he hurt their last soulmate just as much? Namjoon hoped that he would never be seen like Yongsun, like someone who destroyed someone else’s life, but maybe in (Y/N)’s eyes, that was all he was. After all, he had been the one to deeply hurt his soulmate with his words, hoping that they would lose the connection and that she would survive the break of the bond. 

Namjoon's mind was at war. He couldn't decipher who he hated the most between himself and Yongsun. Maybe Yongsun had been a warning before he even did the biggest mistake that he deserves to be punished for. It should have opened his eyes. That despite everything, soulmates changed people for the worst, which could lead them to do mistakes and ruin other people’s lives. Sometimes Namjoon felt like everything was his fault, that he should have protected his soulmates—all his soulmates—better. He thought of finding her and apologizing, even if it wouldn't change anything. He thought of sending flowers to her place, sending her homemade meals to make sure she would rest and eat healthily. He wished he could have been there for her recovery, to help her navigate through life but he chose another direction and he could only blame himself. Namjoon dreamt of being the first person his soulmates would be thinking of when they thought of safety. How ironic it was that his soulmates didn’t even trust him enough for them to confide in him. Namjoon can recall a time when he used to try and get ready to welcome his soulmates in his life before he met any of them. He would die before telling anyone about it, but he took cooking lessons when he was younger, just so that he would be able to be a good cook for his soulmates. He also tried a bunch of other things, from pottery to wood carving, Namjoon wanted to be a steady man, trustworthy, and who would be able to love his soulmate to his fullest.

And instead, they got a coward. A coward who wasn't able to protect anyone. On the opposite actually, Namjoon was clumsy, blunt, and brutally incapable of protecting any of the souls that he was supposed to cherish and he hated himself for that. He wished he could have done much more for (Y/N) but he had known that he couldn't. How could he do better if he hadn't been able to protect his 6 other mates the first time something terrible happened to them? How could he protect someone he would hurt because of his own bond? He was broken. Yongsun broke the healthy link they used to have, the one that made him believe that as long as they were together, nothing could happen to them. Namjoon now knew better than to believe in those words.

"Your name means nothing to us." Instead, Namjoon wished he had told her: "my name should mean nothing to you, please run away while you still can, I don't want to disappoint or hurt you and I know that I will." He had wished that his face didn't hold so many bad memories and so much hurt for her to physically gag as she recognized him. He saw it; the moment her eyes found him, she instantly recognized him and probably replayed the only moment they “shared” before their reunion. He saw it, the hurt, the distress, and the hatred. He wished it had been different, and here he was, desperately waiting for an answer from her, wishing that he could see her in real life just one more time. Wishing that he could tell her how his heart had been aching to find her, to let her in that day, and that he regretted every single word he uttered. Namjoon wished he could tell her that he threw up a few hours after everything because he felt sick with himself, unable to look at himself in the mirror without seeing the ghost of who he wished he could have been for his soulmates. Namjoon wished he could tell her that his heart never broke so hardly as after their bond broke, that he had been left with a lump in his throat, dried lips, and tears staining his cheeks. That despite the hurtful words that he spat at her, he never wished anything but happiness for her, even if it had to be without them.

Seeing her happy on a stage was everything he could have hoped for her. Her smile was always small but genuine. Namjoon lost a lot of himself when he rejected their last soulmate, taking the main burn of the rejection, as he had been the one to be so vehement about it. Taking Jungkook's and Jimin's anger, brushing Taehyung's and Seokjin's tears away, ignoring the pang in his heart each time Yoongi and Hoseok refused to talk to him, being the most awful person in (Y/N)'s eyes. He'd take it all, as long as it would mean that he could try to protect them all. He did it terribly, he could only agree with this. But Namjoon's goal had never changed. He just wanted to protect them all. He'd take all the blames, all the harsh words if they needed him to. He just wanted them happy. And if (Y/N) needed to hate someone in particular in their group, then so be it. He’d be this person, the one to say the harshest words to make sure that their bond would remain broken. He couldn’t let her close, she would die in their arms, and Namjoon would never allow that. Maybe it was only hypocritical because, in anyone else’s eyes, he left her to die alone. Everyone heard the terrible words he told her, the way he pushed her away and blocked her from entering their home. But no one saw that he never left the chair in front of the window in his room, fully dressed with a bottle of water in his bag, ready to get out as soon as everyone would be away to find (Y/N) and bring her to the nearest hospital. No one—not even Taehyung—saw his research about the effect of performing a medical bond on a soulmate, or performing a medical bond after having already survived one. No one had known that Namjoon had decided that if the break of the bond happened to be too much for her—and it was likely to be—he would be ready to put his life on the line to medically bond with her to make sure that she would survive. Because if he learned one thing from his research, it was that performing a medical bond twice was likely to turn out badly, not for the receiver, but for the giver. Yet Namjoon couldn’t care any less. He wouldn’t let one of his soulmates die, he promised himself he would save them all and he did. Even when he saw, right after what happened, Hoseok and Yoongi running out of the house under the rain, he sprung into action, not wanting anything to happen to either of them, especially after everything that Yoongi went through. It had been enough. Yoongi went back home alone that day, but no one, except the three of them, knew about that. And Namjoon would keep it this way as long as needed because it hadn’t been enough and it would never be enough to explain why he acted the way he did, even if he tried his best to protect everyone at once. Hoseok and Yoongi had made it clear that day; that what he was doing would never undo what he told and did to her and he agreed with them. He shouldn’t have put everyone in danger that way, and shouldn’t have talked to (Y/N) that way, but his younger self had not found any other solution. Maybe he should have worked harder to find a different way to solve the problem but he didn’t. But now that he knew that everyone—including (Y/N)—was expecting answers, maybe this part of the story would need to be told. (One day, he kept on telling himself, one day he’d be ready even if he tried to escape this moment as long as he could.)

Namjoon put deadlines for himself to become the man that their soulmates could be proud of and he felt like he already missed them all. He truly didn't believe that he could be that person anymore. His mother used to tell him that she was so proud of him, that he had a gorgeous heart but he found himself thinking that his heart was most likely buried under ashes, just like his dream life went up in smoke. It had been hard, but Namjoon had come to accept it; to accept that he'd never find his happy ending with his seven soulmates and that he needed to be someone he wouldn't want to be for the sake of everyone. He decided to do damage control as much as he could. He had needed to be the bad guy, the one who had to destroy their future with (Y/N) to make sure that their bond wouldn't act up even with the distance. Namjoon would take the worst role to play if it meant that the others could feel a bit lighter about the one they had to embody. His life had nothing of a play, but if he needed to become a bad character for the sake of his soulmates, he would. Namjoon would do anything to soothe everyone's pain and brush their guilt away. There was so much he wished he could do better, so many emotions he felt swiveling through the bond that he wished to soothe. Yet, Namjoon felt like the more he tried, the worst the outcome was. Trust with his soulmates was almost broken, always walking on a thin line with them. 

Oh, how he wished that he could change that, that he could repair the broken trust between him and his soulmates and do something to bridge the cliff's gap that he once willingly widened as much as he could. And as much as Seokjin keep on telling him that it was never too late and that they could choose to become new people, he couldn't let himself believe that it could work. Not only because he was stubborn, but because Namjoon was afraid that he wouldn't be enough to repair the damages he caused. Powerless and useless was how he felt. How could he ever be enough for the soulmates he kept on hurting and that he let down more than once? How could he ever reduce the pain that he inflicted on their last soulmate, even if he tried his best to protect her? Namjoon did not have an answer to those questions and it terrified him. He might never be enough, why should he force himself into (Y/N)'s life when she obviously didn't want him to? Yoongi once told him that he had to fight for what he loved, but he kept on failing each time he tried.

However, Namjoon did not let himself linger on the thought; he kept on telling himself that he only did that to himself. He could have done it differently, he reminded himself plenty of times. And yet, he didn't. He ruined everything and the guilt was eating him alive. Nothing he did could ever alleviate the pain and despite Namjoon knowing that he had no right to think that way, sometimes, he wished that he died during Yongsun's episode instead of watching his worst nightmare become his new reality.

Jungkook came back to (Y/N)'s home with a sense of relief and exhaustion until he opened the front door and heard the distinct sound of glass (or tableware) breaking, instantly putting him on the edge. It threw him right back to that time with Yongsun when one of them said something she didn't like, she would throw a glass or a plate at them without caring about what they would need to buy again. It was always like that. She never cared about anything, only about her comfort and the way they made her feel. It was never the other way around. However, Jungkook tried to breathe as deeply as he could. He wasn't there anymore, and he would never be. The (Y/N) he met for real was not like that, was she? 

Breath uneven and heart pounding in his chest, Jungkook entered as silently as possible the apartment, removing his shoes as quickly as he could with his trembling fingers. He berated himself; he needed to stop associating (Y/N) with Yongsun, but his head wasn't listening to him. He kept on hearing Yongsun’s high-pitched voice yelling at him despite his attempt of brushing it away. He physically knew that he wasn’t there anymore, but his brain couldn’t let him in peace. He needed to sleep or to see the real (Y/N) so that his brain would let go of Yongsun's image. 

Staggering, he entered the kitchen with teary eyes, his breath even shorter than before, until his eyes found the blurry figure of his soulmate. She wasn't screaming, she wasn't throwing plates in anyone's face, no, she wasn't doing any of these things. Instead, she was simply standing in the middle of her kitchen, motionless, with pieces of glass in her hands. Jungkook let out a breath that he hadn't even noticed he had been holding until he noticed that (Y/N) was definitely not moving, it wasn’t just his eyes being annoying because he was on the verge of crying. Her eyes seemed to have caught something because her whole body was still. Carefully whipping his eyes, he tried to gauge (Y/N)'s expression until he noticed blood in her hands. Approaching cautiously, he wondered if she even heard him enter, with how out of it she seemed to be. He didn’t want to scare her if it was the case.

"(Y/N)?" His voice came out more shakily than he was hoping for it to be. "I'm… I'm back, what are you doing?" She finally looked up and Jungkook's heart stopped as he noticed a tear rolling on her cheek. What the hell had happened while he had been gone? 

"I don't know, Jungkook… I don't know." Jungkook watched her throwing the pieces of glass away, washing carelessly her hands while not even looking at them.

"Are you okay?" His heart was still pounding but he tried not to let it overwhelm him. Her eyes caught his watchful gaze and she didn't need words to reply. Something had obviously happened, but Jungkook couldn't get what exactly. 

"Did you know?" She simply asked, leaving him at a loss for words. 

"Know what?" 

"Why Namjoon was so hell-bent on rejecting me." Jungkook's eyes widened, so he told her? Did they talk? What did he say? Did he hurt her? Was that why she looked so broken right now? 

"He told you? What did he say?" 

"So you don't know." 

"He never told us." She almost snorted but she seemed too tired to do so.

"You trusted him even if you didn't know?" His silence was enough for her to understand that she was right, "it doesn't matter, now. Maybe you should read this, though." Her eyes fell on a few documents on the table. They were scattered on the surface and Jungkook could spot some highlighted lines. It seemed like she had already gone through it and he wondered what it all meant.

"Namjoon's and Taehyung's names appear in the writers. So maybe you'd like to know that they know about all that mess." And so she left him with his shaking body and ragged breath while a headache started to make itself known. His panic attack might have been slightly avoided, but the turmoil in his heart didn't seem to be stopping any time soon as his eyes rested on the crumpled paper.

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Uploaded : 21/08/2022

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His sharp retort makes you flinch. It’s unnerving the way his eyes study you. It makes you feel naked and vulnerable in front of him. His eyes glance down at your nametag and you shift uncomfortably, your arms hugging your body reflexively.

“I, um, think you have the wrong person. I’ve never seen you.” He’s dressed in a designer suit, a large gold watch on his wrist, he screams expensive from head to toe. He’s not the type of person you’d run into, and you're sure you'd remember doing so.

“You wouldn’t have, would you?”

The tension is getting painful. Your nerves are too high, his stare is too much, he’s not making any sense, and you don’t get paid enough to deal with strange customers. You look over to your coworkers busy helping their own customers, and you want to call for help but the words stay stuck in your throat.

With your neck exposed to him, the man leans over the counter and whispers in your ear, “Sweet Dahlia.” Your eyes widen at the nickname. No one would know that name, an alias you chose for yourself at a whim, except for...

Your blood runs cold. There’s no way this is happening right now, no fucking way. You hold your breath as your heart pounds wildly in your chest. ‘Just pretend he has no idea what he’s talking about.’

You try to reign in your emotions before he notices, “I don’t know who that is, sorry. What would you like to order?” But unfortunately for you, he has already seen the shock in your eyes, heard the tiniest gasp at his words, noticed the goosebumps on your skin from his attention. He feels triumphant in his discovery of you, delighting in the way you freeze under his gaze. It’s cute, he thinks, how you think you can fool him. So naive.

Min Yoongi just so happened to be in town for a meeting, just so happened to miss breakfast, just so happened to walk into your place of business. It was by mere chance he collided into your life and left you reeling. It was however, not by luck he recognized you. How could he ever forget your eyes? How many times had he paid you to keep them open while pleasuring yourself? Your image was burned into his memory, down to the shape of your lips. He had so often fantasized of the curves of your mouth around him. He had watched you so often, fixated on your avatar, you would have never been able to hide your identity from him.

You look down to your register and swallow down the fear reeling inside of you. The name he called you feels like a slap to your face. It’s something you’ve tried hard to forget, ashamed at what you’ve done, how you got off on strangers’ praises. His praises, you realize. Your skin burns hot, your nerve endings are prickling from panic.

Displeased you’re ignoring him, Yoongi grabs your chin with his fingers, making you look at him again. The way he smirks down at you, reveling in knowing your darkest and most intimate secret, makes you realize just how fucked you are.

“You have the wrong person.” You try to match his harshness. Giving your best performance, you look at him like he’s crazy, completely insane. You raise your eyebrow and frown back at him.

‘This will work,’ you think, please let him leave you alone. You yank your head away sharply and step backward, putting some distance between you and him, but the man steps forward and grabs your arm. His nails dig into your skin painfully as he pulls you forward. You yelp in surprise and struggle against his hold, but his grip is too strong. It makes you shudder, knowing how easily he could keep you to him if he wanted.

“I just want to talk to you, can we do that?” His voice sounds soft, almost calming, but the demanding look in his eyes scares you. You keep attempting to pull away from him, but he has no intention of letting you go now, matching each jerk of your body with a pull of his own.

By now your coworkers notice what’s happening. Your manager makes a beeline to you.

“What’s the matter? Sir, what do you think you’re doing?!” You're thankful for your manager as your captor becomes distracted and loosens his hold on you ever so slightly. You take the opportunity to yank yourself away and escape into the back. The stranger, seemingly uncaring of any repercussions, runs behind the counter after you. Your manager is running behind him telling him he can’t do that, as if that will stop Yoongi.

You feel two strong hands grab your shoulders wheeling you around to face your reality. Tears threaten to escape in your hopelessness. This can’t be happening. You thought you were so careful, you wore a mask or you would always hide half your face on camera. You kept the small section where you filmed devoid of anything special or recognizable. You used a proxy. Where was your mistake? You must have made one.

You only ever accepted one invitation to The House before you quit, waiting until The House was in your area. You hadn’t even driven your own car, opting to be dropped off and picked up somewhere close to your apartment instead. In your own paranoia you thought you had taken every precaution imaginable. How could this be happening? What kind of horrible luck did you have that a viewer would walk into your job and recognize you. And you, too shocked to put up a better act, how could you be so dumb? You want to scream.

“Please, you have the wrong person,” you whisper, begging to the stranger, shaking in his grasp.

“You shouldn’t lie to me,” Yoongi whispers lowly. He looks over to your manager, who has been yelling at him to let you go this entire time.

“Leave before I call the police!” Yoongi offers him a curt smile, turning to leave. The only problem is he still has a death grip on one of your arms. You yelp as he pulls you along. Your manager, bless him, grabs onto your other arm.

You felt like the rope caught in the clutches between two dogs as they tug on you for dominance. Finally, Yoongi relents. Now that he knows where you are it doesn’t matter. Yoongi turns to you, ignoring your irate manager, “We’ll talk later.”

You and your manager watch wide eyed as the stranger saunters out like he hadn’t just made a huge scene in the middle of your job.

---

Your body still shakes while your manager questions you, “Do you know him? Is he an ex? What’s going on?” You bite your lip, debating on how much information you should divulge that will get him to feel sorry enough for you without firing you.

“So um, during the lockdown...when our hours were cut...I, um, tried to find other jobs to make money. I was about to get evicted and I-I needed a lot of money quickly,” You look down at your feet, embarrassed. “I joined this...club...people paid me...to do things.” You stop to gauge your manager’s reaction. His eyes are full of concern, but he bites his tongue. “I-I can’t really talk about it, I had to sign a bunch of NDAs.”

“So you know him?”

“No, I never really met any of them. I-I’m sorry, I can’t talk about this, no one can know.”

“So it was...a sex thing?”

You sigh, you meet his eyes to try to convey your thoughts, “I can’t say. If anyone found out anything I would be sued to oblivion, I wouldn’t be able to even cover the legal fees.” Your breath hitches as you choke down a sob at the thought of the crushing debt something like that would cause you.

“Do I need to call the police? What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t think the police are going to be any help with him. I-It's fine, hopefully he'll just go away.” You sneak a look to the sidewalk in front of your job, where the man currently stands unbothered. What should you do? You already know this man is not someone who plays by the rules, he looks wealthy enough to buy his own kind of justice. How are you supposed to work like this? You felt like a wounded animal being circled by a vulture. Trapped.

You manager lets you work in the back the rest of your shift. Without any distraction, your eyes continue to wander to the very person you should be hiding from. You figured the men behind your computer screen were disgusting creeps whose only way to find sexual gratification was to pay for it. This man could play the leading role of a Hollywood film. Why the hell did he ever pay to watch you? You see the way women oogle him as they pass, tripping over their own feet just being in his presence. He could probably get them to do whatever he wanted with just a couple of sweet words instead, you think, if he wanted to he could make them get on their knees right there, make them choke on his cock until they cry. You shut your eyes. Turning your body around, you try to ignore the jittery feeling dancing in the pit of your stomach, thankful no one can hear your thoughts.

---

The rest of the day goes smoothly. You continued to ignore the mysterious man on the sidewalk and eventually, when you dared to search him out again he was no longer there. When your shift ends, you step outside searching the streets just in case. While walking to your car, you devise a long meandering route home full of turns in hopes no one follows you. He wouldn’t do that, right?

You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder. It makes you jump, screaming.

“I’m sorry!” Yoongi puts his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, can we please talk now?” Holy fuck, where did he come from? And how are you not dead from a heart attack?

Your eyes dart around, looking for options. Yoongi notices your hesitation, “As fun as it would be to chase you down, please don’t do that. I just want to talk, I promise.” How can he be so nonchalantly threatening? Who is this man?

“Okay, okay...just...let's sit there.” You point to a bench in front of your job, and he nods. The stranger walks silently next to you. He stands so close he bumps into your shoulder again and again. You probably look like a couple, you think, to an outsider he probably looks like a boyfriend picking you up from work. You chew on your bottom lip imagining different scenarios where this man could possibly be into you, reasons that don’t include you getting undressed for money.

“Why did you stop?” His question pulls you from your thoughts and back to your sad reality. You sigh, do you even owe him an answer? Yoongi puts a finger under your chin, moving your head to look at him. The gesture is softer than what he had done to you before. “Dahlia?” You wince and pull away from him.

"Don't call me that."

"Y/n..."

You don't know whether it's worse, hearing your name leave his lips.

“I got my job back, so I didn’t need to do that anymore.”

Yoongi hums, “So it’s money.” The thought relieves him, he thought it was because of that night. “How much do you make here?” He gestures behind him.

You bite your lip. There is no comparison in the obscene amounts of money you made there compared to this slightly above minimum wage job. In a couple of months you had managed to pay off years of credit card bills. And the best part? It was untraceable money. Money your clients didn’t want to lead back to them. Non-taxable. “Presents,” “gifts,” monetary offerings placed at your feet as your faceless followers worshiped the temple of your body. And it was easy, it was fun, it was fucking hot, but at what cost?

When you had gone to The House, a live show held in an elusive estate where your assets could be viewed more closely, your body on display as powerful men commanded you behind dark glass, you didn’t know what you expected, but what you got changed you forever. The way you performed for them, the way you liked it, and then...what happened...So you took your shitty job back, with sweet regulars and coworkers who treated you like a person, not a thing to be devoured. Working a long shift here didn’t make you feel like you were going to hell. Working a 9 to 5, living a quiet life, seeing your friends on the weekends, it meant you could pretend you were normal and nothing happened so you didn’t have to face the depths of your depravity.

“You know I never meant for it to go for as long as it did. Yes, I needed the money. But I don’t need it anymore, so I don’t know what you expect from me, Mr..?”

The man licks his lips before he speaks, “Min. Min Yoongi”

“Mr. Min Yoongi. I don’t know what you expect, but that’s not who I am anymore.”

“Is that so? Why take that particular job? You could have made money in other ways. Unless you liked it?”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment, you remember the night you scoured the internet for any job listings, on a whim you looked up popular cam girl sites. You didn’t even think it would go anywhere, only half serious in your search.

But you had found one website, hidden deep in cyberspace. An innocuous name, House of Cards dot com. You had set up an account that night, went under the name Dahlia, inspired by the vase of plastic flowers on your kitchen table.

You were inexperienced, confessed on your first broadcast just that, and you watched as the views shot up. You were unprepared for the attention, the money. A thousand dollars to spread your legs and show your underwear. It was exciting. You’ve never gotten so much attention before, from anyone, ever. You did like it. Not that you would admit it to this stranger.

“How about this, take a job with me, whatever you’re making I’ll pay double.”

Double? Stay calm y/n. “A job doing what?” You try to sound disinterested.

He gives you a devilish smile. “To be in my company.”

“I…” you watch as he scribbles numbers in his checkbook. He tears a page and hands it to you.

“Think of it as an advance. Buy clothes with it.”

You curse your trembling fingers. “What is this, a year’s advance?” Yoongi cocks his head to the side, “No, that’s a month.” You almost forget to breathe at his words. Yoongi laughs at you, “Just how much are you getting paid?”

You bite your lip so hard you taste copper. You don’t know whether to feel embarrassed or angry at the way he looks down at you and mocks you. You choose the latter, letting the check crumple in your tightened fist.

“You think you can buy me? You think because you have money you can get anything you want, right? Well...there is no way I would ever work for you, you smug arrogant prick, so keep your money!” You bite back, throwing the check in his face.

Your defiance only serves to make Yoongi more delighted. “What makes you think you can go back to work, Dahlia?" You hate the way he calls you by your alias with such venom.

"What would your coworkers think if they saw what a dirty girl you’ve been, huh? What do you think, would your manager appreciate the video with the pink vibrator or is he into more kinkier shit? You’ve been so fucking nasty I don’t think I could choose just one, I might just have to send them all.” Your nails dig into your thighs at his harsh words. He sits quietly and waits for your reaction. You want to punch him in his smug face.

“So you’re going to blackmail me, is that it?”

“Want me to write you another check? I don't think the bank will take this one anymore.”

You shudder, you rack your mind thinking of anything you can do to outsmart this man. “The terms on the website said-” Yoongi laughs in your face again.

“I know the terms. I was there when our lawyers drafted them, baby girl.”

What?! What the fuck. Is he some sick perverse webmaster? At least it would explain why he acts the way he does.

“So technically,” Yoongi muses, “I never signed any terms. But you did, didn’t you? So you better not tell anyone of this or me, for your safety of course.” He says his threat so sweetly to you it makes your head spin. You’ve come to the realization that this man is the devil and you signed your life away.

“So I have no other choice...”

“I would never dream of making you do something you don’t want to do. You do want this, don’t you? To be taken care of, doted on like you deserve. That’s all I want to give you." He hands you a new check, his large hands cover yours so tenderly it leaves you at a loss for words. "How about this, you accompany me to a party this weekend, let me show you what you’re missing.” If Yoongi can take you to just one event, just once, he’s sure he can convince you. Yoongi can already see the jealous looks on his friends’ faces once he brings you on his arm. He can’t wait to rub it in their faces.

“And if I go with you, and decide that’s it, you’ll let me leave?”

“Of course, my sweet flower.” Yoongi is a patient man. He is a resourceful man. He knows how to twist the odds in his favor. He knows this second chance he gets with you means something. He won’t let you slip away again so easily, and he’ll show you how fated you are for him, how perfectly you’ll fit in his arms, how you belong with him. You’ll see, he’ll make you see, and he can’t wait to make you his again, truly his.

---

When you finally find the courage to turn and face Changkyun, you find him standing a few feet away looking around your room. The words died on your tongue as you took in his form. He was completely relaxed, not a hint of tension in his body. It was as if the past few hours were totally normal to him.

Your cheeks heat a bit as you watch his fingers play across the pictures framed on your shelf. He lingers on one in particular from your college graduation. You stood proudly in the middle of the guys with seven, yes seven, large bouquets in your arms. Each boy grinning widely, Hyunwoo and Minhyuk pinching each of your cheeks as you beamed with happiness.

“You know...we’ve been friends for so many years but I don’t think any of us have been in your room before.” He said without looking at you. He moved over toward your bed and picked up the large teddy bear that Hoseok got you for your birthday a few years back. “It’s cute,” he smiled at you cheekily, “Not what I was expecting from a grown woman who calls a grown man her ‘precious baby’.” He laughed and you went a shade darker.

“Ahh~! Listen, I’m just tired of them always picking on you! I was just trying to be a good friend and stick up for you.” You pouted with your arms crossed. Grown woman indeed.

He fixed you with a steady look, hitching up a brow. “A good friend, huh?”

At this point, you’re not sure if you’d rather run back out the door and sleep in the bathtub tonight or stick around to see how far this plays out. Your heart thunders dangerously in your chest and your core tightens as he stares you down and you know you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

Changkyun closed the distance slowly and you realized that even if you wanted to leave there was nowhere to go as your back hit the door. He stopped only a foot away and you took a deep breath, anxiously waiting for him to break the silence.

“I like you, Bubbles,” He nearly whispers, his eyes slowly dipping to your lips before reaching your eyes again, “As more than a good friend.”

“You do?” You whispered back, falling deeper and deeper into the pools of his eyes. 

“Mhm,” He hums, stepping even closer, “That’s why I’m really hoping that wasn’t just the wine talking and you really do have a sweet spot for me,” He smirked just a bit and you blinked one too many times before shaking your head. 

“I one-hundred percent have a sweet spot for you, Kyun. You know that,” You giggles nervously and he grinned, dipping his head just a bit closer.

“This is..It’s kind of weird but it feels...” You begin and he finishes your thought by murmuring softly, “Feels right.”

You stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly trying to find a good reason not to do what you knew you were about to do. Changkyun seemed to reach a decision first as he extended his arm out to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

With his face angled over yours, only a breath away from your lips, he still asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t answer him verbally this time. Instead, you placed a hand at the back of his head and gently pulled his mouth down to yours, kissing him before you could change your mind. He responded quickly by tightening his right arm around your waist and placing his left hand at the back of your neck in an effort to properly seal your lips together.

The depth of the kiss is what surprised you the most. Changkyun was always pretty laid back and quietly charming but he was kissing you with such passion it left your lungs burning for oxygen as he stole your breath. He tasted sweet from the alcohol and you felt more intoxicated by him than any liquor had ever left you. 

You pulled away for only a moment to steady yourself but you saw the way his pupils were blown out as he looked down at you and you immediately had your mouth back on his with renewed urgency.

His hands were everywhere. In your hair, smoothing up and down your back, gripping at your waist, cradling your face. You nibbled his bottom lip and he swore before sweeping his tongue into your mouth causing you to let out a soft whimper that he promptly swallowed. He seemed to like that noise and he repeated the motion pulling two more soft whines from your lips.

“You sound so sweet” He panted in between kisses. “I wanna hear all the sounds you can make. Wanna know if you’re always so soft or if the others will be able to hear you.” He groaned as he felt your nails dig into his chest, the thought of the others hearing you moan and cry Changkyun’s name now sitting at the forefront of your mind.

“I had...” You stumbled over your words when he squeezed your hip firmly and playful grin on his face, “...Had intended for you to sleep in here with me strictly for your protection.” You finished, giggling as he nibbled at your jaw.

“And now?” He countered, placing warm, wet kisses down the side of your throat.

“Now, I have zero intentions of going to sleep.”

“Oh, Bubbles.” Changkyun let loose a low growl against your shoulder and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You back up only far enough for him to pull it over your head and fling it across the room with that little smirk of his. His cocky look dropped as he took in the way your lacy blue bra hugged your breasts in all the right ways. He leaned down, placing a single kiss to the tops of each breast reverently before unbuckling and tossing your bra in the same direction of your discarded shirt.

There was no room for you to feel self-conscious in front of him as he immediately ducked down to take one nipple in his mouth, tongue laving over your sensitive bud while he massaged the other in his hand. You let out a deep moan at the contact, hands flying into his hair to keep him steady. 

His teeth grazed over you gently and you whimpered as you pushed yourself further into his grasp. Your brain short-circuited for a moment, the only coherent thought being how amazing his hot, wet mouth felt on your skin. 

“Such pretty sounds,” He nearly whispered as he tended to your other breast. Your nipples were always overly sensitive, so his ministrations were already sending you into overdrive and yet, you wanted more. So much more.

Gripping the hair at the base of his skull you pulled him back up to kiss you feverishly. You mumbled for him to take off his shirt to feel the heat of his skin against you and let out another soft moan at the sight of him without meaning to. He was perfectly put together and you could have drowned in the way his pants hung deliciously low on his hips. Like one quick tug and you’d be rid of them with no problem.

“Changkyun,” you whine to him, suddenly needy with his body a few steps too far from you, “I want you so badly. Will you take care of me?” You ask him, feigning innocence as you reach up to tweak your nipple. You smile deviously when the light glints off his piercing as he cocks a brow at you, waiting for you to continue your little show. 

He stares as you place two fingers from each hand in your mouth, swallowing hard as you begin sucking on them gently before dragging them down the column of your throat and over your nipples, still hardened from his earlier attention. 

Much to your frustration, he moves further away from you but fuck if he doesn’t look good sitting on your bed in just his sweats, legs spread wide. He leans back on one hand and watches you lazily drag your hand further down your stomach. He would say that he’d be content to sit here all day just to watch you play with yourself but it would be a half-lie. 

He couldn’t stand not being able to touch you for too long. 

“Come here, baby.” He orders in a smooth tone. With zero hesitation you make your way over to him, standing between his legs. Changkyun leans forward and places tender kisses just above your waistband before tucking his fingers in and pushing the material down until they puddled at your feet.

“Fuck. Me.” Changkyun groaned and you grinned triumphantly at his reaction. The sight of your matching blue panties making him close his eyes and throw his head back momentarily. Thank god you chose this set even though this is the last thing you had expected to happen tonight. 

You spurred him back into motion when you reached down, threading your fingers through his hair and he leaned forward, placing searing kisses right over the thin lace covering you.

You let out a startled gasp when he suddenly spun you around and pulled you down into his lap. His lips traced over your shoulder, leaving lingering kisses, as his hands found your breasts once again. He pinched and rolled your nipples between his fingers and you ground yourself down onto him causing him to hiss roughly.

Changkyun reached down and pulled your right leg up over his, effectively spreading your legs open for him before smoothing a hand down over your clothed core. He bit your shoulder gently when he felt the lace material soaked from your arousal. You tossed your head back onto his shoulder and he shifted his slow, torturous kisses to the side of your throat as he slid his hand down the front of your panties.

The first brush over your clit had you arching away from him and Changkyun wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you still. He drove you crazy as he made slow, deliberate circles over you. His fingers dipping lower on occasion causing you to suck in a breath and whine out a breathy, “Please.”

“Please what, baby?” Changkyun whispered to you, still at the same controlled pace. You thought you were slowly losing your mind at this point and you’d give him whatever he asked. Anything he wanted to hear.

“I need more. Please, please give me more!” You cried out for him and he smiled at your response before plunging two long fingers into your heat making you moan loudly. The thought that whoever may still be awake in your house probably heard that sat at the very back of your mind, untouched because you were consumed by the way Changkyun was pumping his fingers in and out of you now.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re begging for me to fill you up, baby.” He whispered huskily into your ear before nipping at it lightly.

Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head when he stopped and lifted your left leg over his to match the right, giving him unrestricted access and after moving your panties to the side, he immediately dove right back in, deeper than before. 

The room was filled with the sounds of your wetness and heavy breathing mixed with soft keening that grew louder every time he hit your g-spot. You were so focused on his touch and you barely noticed the faint brushing against your bedroom door.

Changkyun did however and he grinned wildly to himself before doubling his efforts, fingers slamming into you while the other hand rubbed furiously at your clit causing your vision to blur. You couldn’t help yourself as you gasped and whined due to all the heightened sensations. You were so close to your orgasm that you felt like you could crawl out of your skin at any moment.

“Ahh, fuck! I- I’m gonna cum, please let me cum!” You shouted and the second he added a little pressure to your clit you felt the wave of your orgasm crash over you like a tsunami. Changkyun kept at it until he felt your shuddering slow down and your breathing start to even out again, running his lips over your throat, tongue darting out to lave at the purple marks he gave you earlier.

“Can you stand up for me, baby?” He asked after a few minutes and you nodded quietly. He helped move your legs off of his and placed them back on the floor gently. You stood up and turned to face him, smiling when you saw the heated look on his face. 

You leaned down to kiss him again and you felt his hands trail down to your hips again, this time pulling your underwear down your legs, tossing them right in front of the door. Breaking the kiss, Changkyun stood up just long enough to shed his sweats and briefs finally releasing his strained cock. You stared at the head, bright and glistening.

“Well, shit.” You said a little too loud and Changkyun fell into a fit laughter before pulling you down to straddle him on the bed.

“I’m not sure what I was expecting, but you’ve exceeded all expectations.” You said in all seriousness making him chuckle at you again. Oddly enough, you thought you could hear an echo of laughter from somewhere nearby but didn’t give it a second thought. He stopped laughing when you leaned forward to kiss him again, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip. You reached a hand between you to grasp his cock, stroking it a few times before raising yourself up and lining him up with your entrance.

You both let out unrestrained moans as you sank down onto him, your heat engulfing him an inch at a time and it felt like forever before he finally bottomed out. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and you reveled in how full you felt with him finally seated inside you.

“Fuck,” he ground out, “You’re so fucking hot...still so tight.” He rolled his hips up, snapping into you, causing you to grip onto his shoulders tightly. You started to move up and down his length at a faster pace making Changkyun groan loudly. 

You decided that you loved hearing him come undone. He was normally so quiet and laid back so you reveled getting him worked up and hearing how much you affected him.

In less than a second, he had you flipped onto your back as he stood at the edge of the bed. He had both of your legs pressed together in the air before he placed his hands to the backs of your thighs and pushed down hard, effectively folding you in half and angling your hips up. You felt dumbstruck as he slammed his length back into, holding your thighs down, pressing them further into your chest as he relentlessly pounded into you.

The change in position with the added ferocity of his thrusting had you near screaming out in ecstasy as your orgasm barreled toward you threatening to send your body over the edge.

“OH my god.” You moaned out loudly as he hit your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck!” Changkyun panted out as his thrusting became more erratic, his breathing uneven.

“Cum inside, baby. I wanna feel you, please, please,” You cried, tiny tears forming in the corners of your eyes. Within seconds you were moaning out so loudly, so obscenely, that you had no idea the second Changkyun spilled into you, your bedroom door flung open, revealing six shocked faces- two of which landed directly on the floor.

When you finally came down from your high, still seeing stars, you thought you must be so delirious that you were seeing things. Surely, there were not six men standing right inside your bedroom door staring at you, freshly fucked on the bed. It was purely your imagination. 

Except it wasn’t.

Changkyun was still inside you, looking down at you with a huge smile and you knew then that he already knew about the idiots who had been camped just outside the door from the second you closed it and he was delighted to have put on quite the show.

You gave his thigh a hard slap and he hissed dramatically before pulling out of you as gently as possible. You sat up in the bed pulling your blankets up around you to spare at least a tiny sliver of dignity. That idea went out the window as you looked at the boys and found them all looking at Hoseok, who was holding your discarded panties in his large hands, putting them on full display for everyone.

“Got room in here for a few more? It is a sleepover after all, what fun is it if we’re not all together?” Minhyuk asked in a sweet voice that you knew was anything but innocent.

“Yeah, Bubbles. Surely, you’re not picking favorites now?” Kihyun chimed in with a pout, the rest of the boys nodding along.

.....Is it still too late to blame it on the wine?

Next Chapter  →

Series M.List | MX M.List | Main M.List 

Because you were “one of the best workers”, the manager decided you’d be here during today’s LIVE episode of Run BTS which would be a competition to build the best gingerbread house within the span of 90 minutes. You had spent all day yesterday decorating the café to look like such a sweetened dwelling on the outside.

Today, you were in your Christmas attire and one of the judges of the competition along with a lucky fan and another co-worker. There were more cameras than usual, and you saw the seven beautifully exhausted idols walk through the door in their own holiday merch. Jungkook’s gray sweater had a picture of their logo filled in with a green and red vertical ombre. J-Hope was wearing the same one underneath his thick padded coat.

Jin’s and Jimin’s sweaters were that of the logo surrounded by a wreath. Because of Suga’s new significant other being Jewish, he was wearing the Hanukkah version, a blue sweater with a silver and lighter blue ombre BTS logo. Namjoon and Tae were the only ones wearing the Kwanzaa versions. It warmed your heart that the boys were doing their best to support all the holidays that ARMY might celebrate.

You were wearing the Kwanzaa one today, of course. That was one of the perks working here was that BigHit merch was part of your uniform, so you got one free shirt/sweater a month. It was also the reason why the aprons were clear, so that patrons could see what you were wearing and ask where they could get it.

Of course...you needed more than one shirt a month, so you had to buy merch in order to be in uniform. But like, other than bills what else were you gonna be spending your money on? BTS merch, duh.

Anyways, the fact that you were wearing the green version of the Kwanzaa sweater and Namjoon was wearing the black version got you a polite smile from him. Taehyung stood in front of you as you greeted the group and their managers...as if he wanted to say something. However, the young man stayed silent until he was called to get his makeup touched up.

Maybe you were just being paranoid or hyperaware, but it seemed like the guys were talking about you. However, they were nothing but professional. You and your co-worker brought out the now cooled down trays of gingerbread that had already been cut into the proper shapes. The very excited fan helped to uncover the selection of candies they could use on their houses.

“Can I use the cute employee too? I think she’d make my house look the best.” J-Hope said, a smile on his voice.

You looked over to Kara who was always getting hit on, but it soon clicked that he was looking at your face. That very same face soon got heated cheeks because what? Was J-Hope hitting on you? Nooooo. No. He was just playing around.

“That’s cheating to put something already so beautiful next to whatever you make, hyung.” Jimin replied with a giggle.

Jin then added, “Leave the pretty girl alone. She’s just doing her job. Besides, she should only be paired with someone who is almost as attractive as she is.”

Jungkook gasped loudly, “Oh, hyung, you just admitted that you think she’s more attractive than yourself. You’re just as bad as the others.”

The oldest member blushed, “I just, what I meant was--” he looked over at you and bowed. “I am sorry.”

“It’s ok. It’s fine.”  You replied and couldn’t help but feel your cheeks.

Taehyung blurted out, “We have matching sweaters!” with no follow up.

“Oh, look what you’re doing. You’re embarrassing her.” Suga said and then looked at you. “What is your name?”

“Y-Y/N.” You stuttered out. “Please call me Y/N.” You said with a bow and pointed to your name tag.

He said that he had already read your name tag, but just wanted to hear me say it. Your heart felt like it was just about ready to explode with all of their kind compliments as they began to focus on the competition. Even though you had thought you’d be judges, you were simply there to help the guys and do touch ups so that they weren’t horrible. The public would be voting on them tomorrow.

Was there even fridge space for three finished gingerbread houses? Each young man was basing it on whatever they wanted. The thing they were having the most trouble with was putting the pieces together. Even when a building went up, it would crash seconds later because of too much or too little frosting. You were called in when they had broken a piece past repair.

They could call on any employee or the fan to help up to three times, and it felt like your name was the one being called all 9 times. However, Kara was helping Hobi with his roofing and the fan gave team JinKook inspiration to do a Bt21 themed house. Kookie got excited and started trying to create the characters out of marshmallows and frosting while Jin decorated the actual house.

“Y/N-nim!” Jimin called sweetly. “Can you help me with something?”

You walked over and asked what they needed help with. He wanted to know how to do the dripping icicles on the roofing, so I started to do it for him.

“No, no, no. Show me how to do it, please.” He said, his grin becoming more mischievous by the second.

Taehyung smiled, “I’ll work on the gingerbread man. I need green frosting.”

He got up to do so while Suga asked me how the front was already. You told him it was very neatly done before showing Jimin how to get the pointed dripping effect using some of the discarded bits of spiced cookie to pipe out some examples.

“You are really good at this, Y/N-nim~” The mochi like blonde said with smiley eyes.

“Thank you. I think you have the hang of it, so I will leave you to it.” You gave a bow and then went towards Kara before being called by Namjoon who had his hand up.

If this was another broken gingerbread person, you were going to just tell him to glue it with frosting. Kara gave you a cheeky head nod to go to them. You felt bad for the fan as she was supposed to be the center of attention for this event.

He didn’t look at you in the eye as he asked, “I um, we are not sure what to do. I’m pretty sure we won’t be getting first place, but it just looks bad.”

“So just a general help?” You giggled.

“Yes, please.” He replied, scratching the back of his neck, getting frosting on it.

You just handed him a napkin and quickly fixed up the roof to let them put candies on dots placed on the empty shingles. It was the 500th time you had been doing it this holiday season, and it was just November. Him and J-Hope thanked you before you went back and sooner or later, time was up.

Then it was time for voting. The sloppiest of the three houses was the one Namjoon and Hobi made since they didn’t have artists in their groups. The BT21 house had collapsed halfway through, so JinKook quickly made a simplified but still amazing house to present.

Still, it was too simple compared to the others. The one that Suga, Jimin, and V made together was the perfect mix of the two houses. That’s the one that ended up winning.

The prize was a Christmas themed date with the fan. They were glad to get to know her better and ended up leaving with her. The others had to help clean up. You’d be putting their houses up for sale for an auction and the money would go to UNICEF. The winners had well hidden pouts behind their smiles, wishing they had lost instead while the losers were glad because they got to spend more time with you.

They kept asking if you needed help with things and to let them do things instead. However, Namjoon kept eating the candy he was supposed to be putting away. He gave you such a charming smile in return, you didn’t care that he was chomping away on inventory. It seemed that he was a nervous eater.

“I’ve been craving this taste for a long time, too.” He said and then helped to keep the door open while you put his house into the fridge.

It wasn’t long until you and Kara were bowing to the four remaining idols. There were gift bags for the both of you, and you were glad to get such compensation for a stressful overtime. Both of you were sure to go fast asleep since this was all you had to do today.

Swallowing down your hopes before they get too high, you explored the room. At first, you assumed it was themed specifically in an older style, but now you could see that it was almost like a collection of things from several time periods and cultures. Chinese fine china displayed next to a Walkman. A french vase filled with coins from all times and all countries by the look of it. Rapper bling necklaces wrapped around the artworks neck.

Raising a brow, you couldn't help but notice the 1950's pin-up calendar with scantily clad women, and the modern playboy one right next to it, hung up above a beautiful statuette of a Grecian woman.

“I'm sorely judging whoever’s room this is..” You grumbled.

You turned to take in the rest of the room, but instead of the weird collection aesthetic you were expecting, all you found were books and the bed. What must have been hundreds of books. Put away on shelves, all stacked on one-another. New ones and old ones alike. Some scrolls and some parchments.

Ok.. So the pervert likes reading.

You spot your dress and jacket you were wearing before, resting on one pile of books. The jacket was a goner for sure. Stiff and completely saturated with blood. But the dress was still mostly clean aside from the dirt and smell of alcohol from when you must have spilled on yourself.

Quickly sliding it on, you had to laugh to yourself. They even grabbed your heels that you thought you left behind.

Yeah, fuck that. You weren't about to try and sneak out and run for it in those things again.

Padding to the door, you softly pushed the handle until you heard the faintest click. After a brief silent moment, you peaked your head out, scanning the area.

It seemed like an ordinary house except.. More weirdly random decorations. As you made your way down the hall, you even spotted a pinball machine in another room. Next to work out equipment.

The house was dead silent, however. Giving no hint whether anyone was home. All that could be heard was your uneven breathing and the slight creak of a floorboard every now and then.

Taking the steps two at a time, you went downstairs and turned a corner, finding yourself  the kitchen, which you assumed was where they.. Where they fed from you.. Shuddering and feeling nauseated, you unconsciously scratched at your neck, continuing through the silent expanse.

You were just beginning to think you were home free once the front door was in view, but then you spotted a figure sitting in a chair just off to the side of the door. As if they were waiting for you to make a run for it. He just blinked, unsurprised.

“I was just-”

“So you are that stupid.” He simply stated. Entirely deadpan.

All you could do was gape your mouth like a fish before he was already in your face. Intense silver eyes staring a hole right through you.

“Where exactly did you think you could run to? From us?” The black haired male mocked. Clearly thinking little of you. Backing up against the door, you eyed him wearily, watching as he stuck his tongue into his cheek, annoyance clear in his piercing eyes.

His skin was soft perfection like the others, looking more like a painting than a person. His exotically almond eyes aglow with their silver coloring. Black hair standing out against the white. He was startlingly beautiful.

Like a black widow.

Reaching for the handle behind your back, you managed to slip out just as he reached for you, his fingertips brushing against your back.

In your head, you imagined a grand escape, running like a rabbit away from wolves. However, the reality was much different. More pitiful.

The bite on your thigh stung as your muscles worked, attempting to run down the porch and the stone paths, but more like hobbling. The getaway being made only more difficult once you ditched the path, running over rocks, pine needles and sticks with your bare feet.

You could just cry in frustration.

When you heard him approaching from behind, you began screaming, trying to call for help even though you couldn't see any other buildings in sight. Only forest and the lake.

“Shut it!” He snapped, just before you were bulldozed to the ground, a much larger body over yours, pinning you down, then picking you up off the dirt despite your thrashing, kicking and screaming.

“I got her, Yoongi.” The new stranger bit out as he tried to subdue you, carrying you back to the cabin they were holding you in.

“Oh, yeah. Looks like you have a real handle on it.” The shorter one with black hair, Yoongi, commented with sarcasm dripping from his tongue. But not arguing further, he walked ahead of the one carrying you, hands in pockets.

“Let me go!” You screeched, clawing his brawny arms.

“You should be grateful I caught you instead of Yoongi, you know. He wouldn't have held back.” He grunted, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, giving you the perfect opportunity to jab him in the ribs with your knees, earning a resound swat on your ass from his gigantic hand.

Yelping, you stilled. The stinging making you freeze up until you were inside, being thrown down on the floor of the living room with a loud -oof-

The one standing over you brushed his fingers through his soft brown hair while glaring down at you. His towering muscular figure intimidating you to the spot. He was young, but with masculine features. Looking like a jock or Calvin Klein model as he clenched his teeth, his cheek and jaw muscles flexing under the soft flesh.

“So you managed to catch the fish, hm?” Another gigantic male questioned, entering the room. This one, also with black hair, was more matured, his fair-skinned face statuesque.

What's with all of them looking like masterpieces? Why can't they be as hideous as they act! You briefly thought to yourself, looking between the two would-be models with disdain.

The taller, older male kneeled beside you, making you flinch as he reached for you. “Shh little one.” He murmured, plucking a stick from your hair. “Y/n, was it? I'm Jin.” He then gestured to the muscular one. “This is Jungkook.” When you didn't respond, the muscular one, Jungkook, huffed.

“We should get her back to Namjoon's room before the others see her out here.”

“You're right.” The one named Jin nodded in agreement before standing, then looked about for the 'others' they were so concerned about.

Jungkook held out his hand, clicking his tongue when you didn't take it. “Come with me, or you get fed to my friends.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.

Taking the offered hand, he had to pull you up himself because you were too weak, then you limped after him, anger seeping through your bones and frustrated tears forming in your eyes.

You were so close.

Or was I? Did the attempt even matter? Would I have been caught, even at my best? But you knew the answer. You remembered how the blonde angel toyed with you in the park. How he could be all around you all at once with no effort. Any normal escape attempt would just end up the same way. With you getting grabbed when they wanted to grab you.

Once you were back in that initial room, the brunette left you with a nod, locking the door behind him. As you heard the click of the lock trigger, you slid down the door, tears falling from your eyes.

You were tired and sore and bloodied with disappointment and fear wracking through you. All you wanted was to go home to your friend's house and put on your sweats, eat all the ice cream you could handle, and go back to when your ex was your only nightmare. Now, you were living in a real one.

You weren't sure how long you had been crying, but you must have passed out because you were jarred awake by the door suddenly pushing you over.

“What the-? I give you my bed for a day and sleep in the study on the sofa, and you just sleep on the floor? Seriously?” Namjoon complained, shaking his head before pulling you up to your feet.

Before you could mumble a reply, he began pulling you out of the room. “Let's go meet the boys.” He announced, dragging you, sputtering and pulling, all the way through the house to the living room, where he practically threw you to the floor.

As many times as you've been thrown at it, they might as well get this over with and make you a rug..

The one named Jin entered the room after you, a steaming bowl in his hands, carefully setting it on the coffee table. “Really, Namjoon..” He admonished silently, helping you sit up and ushered you to the bowl of what looked like, chicken and rice soup.

Glancing around the room, various familiar faces were scattered about. You felt like a fly caught in a web as all predatory eyes watched you curiously. Namjoon took a seat in the living-chair behind you, making the nerves on the back of your neck tingle.

“Since she'll be here with us for a while.. Assuming you don't kill her too quickly.” He paused, as if pointing stares. “We might as well get to know each other a little better.”

Jin nodded at you in greeting, a friendly smile on his face. “You know me and Jungkook already.” He gestured to the brunette who was sitting on the love seat, legs strewn over the blonde angel, playing on some portable game.

“We've met, but my name's Jimin, beautiful.” The blonde winked, leaning over the younger male's legs to send you a flirtatious smirk.

“Call me Suga.” The one they were calling 'Yoongi' muttered, half interested from another living-chair across the room.

Then, with a bright smile, the one who made your skin crawl slowly approached, squatting beside you, peering at your cringing face. “We met too, remember? Name's Hoseok.” He licked the corner of his lips as his sunshine smile faltered to a more sinister smirk, brushing his finger to his lips thoughtfully as his eyes landed on your lips.

“Then there's V, upstairs. He doesn't come out much.” Namjoon commented from behind.

When you didn't say anything, the silver fox's booted-foot landed squarely on your upper back, nudging you. “What do you say?”

Well, if you were going to die eventually..

Defiantly, you raised chin high and glared at each individual who was placed casually throughout the room.

“Y/N!”

You looked over your shoulder, rolling your chair slightly into the hall of your office, and smiled at your friend Sam. She jogged over to you, a manila folder in her hand. Your brows furrowed at the sight of her running over in her heels.

“Woah, slow down there. You’ll break an ankle or something,” you warned.

She waved the folder at you as if to shut you up, causing you to shrug and lean back into your chair. She plopped the folder onto your desk and took in a deep breath.

“I hope you know that I had to run up the stairs in these boots because the damn elevator was taking too long. But that’s beside the point.” She opened the folder and slammed down the piece of paper that was placed on top. “BTS. Chicago. They’re coming here.” You quickly sat up in your chair and flipped through the file.

“Shut up…” you murmured to yourself as your eyes scanned the files. Sam gave a small squeal next to you and slapped your shoulder.

“I snatched this for you by the way -- so you owe me coffee. But anyways, they’re coming to Chicago for an entire month to work on their debut, and they want to hire a photographer to document their time here in the states. I had to put in some hella good words for you, so make that two coffees.”

You sat there, your stomach dropping at Sam’s words.

“Oh and that’s not even the best part.” She gave a devious smile and you rose a brow at her. “I’m going to be reporting for you.”

You could feel her presence next to you, radiating excitement and waiting for you to say something. But all you could do was just stare in disbelief. The past few months of photographer’s slump had been brutal, only getting small stories that your boss handed over to you. And you’d been itching for something big to come along and show your talent.

“I -- I don’t know what to say. Well, I actually have quite a lot to say but none that I can scream in the office.” You gave a small chuckle and covered your mouth, biting the inside of your cheek. “When...when do we start?” you asked, looking up at Sam all while trying to pull yourself together.

“They land tomorrow. It’s such short notice -- I know. But listen, this is an opportunity of a lifetime. I mean, they’ve chosen our company to document their US debut! People would literally kill for this opportunity. And I told the boss that we’d be a good fit for this because we know so much about them already.” It was true that knowing a lot about the boys would make things easier for you, but at this rate it only made things harder. You knew you had to be professional, but this was BTS. You’ve been a huge fan of theirs for quite a long time now and saw them in concert last year when they came to Chicago to perform on their first US tour.

“How am I going to look them in the eye?” you asked, hands running through your hair, completely freaking out. “I mean, good lord, I’ll have to be around them at all time to capture as many photos as I can to put together the album!” You groaned against the cold glass of your desk and sighed. “I guess it can’t be helped. But you’re right. This really is an opportunity of a lifetime.” You looked up at Sam and gave her a small nod, your hand gathering into a fist on top of your desk. “Alright let’s do this.”

You usually weren’t a morning person but the group was landing at seven, which meant you had to be there at six to make sure you didn’t miss a thing. Luckily you didn’t have to drive since the company made sure their limo driver would pick you and Sam up at your house so you could ride with the boys to their hotel and ask them a few questions along the way.

“Don’t you think this is a little excessive?” You asked Sam who was already jotting down questions into her journal. She shrugged, not really giving you an answer since she was too enveloped in her writing. You were instructed to wait by the limo to avoid the hoard of paparazzi that would evidently be crowding the boys. You clutched your camera in hand, biting the bottom of your lip in anticipation.

“You okay ,Y/N?” Sam asked, nudging you with her elbow. It snapped you out of your thoughts, and you cleared your throat, shifting your weight and nodding at her.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. For now. But as soon as they start walking towards us I think I might forget how to use my camera.” You laughed nervously and sighed, trying your absolute best to be as positive as possible, but with the sound of cameras flashing and the added sound of fans swarming the approaching boys, you couldn’t help but tighten your grip on your camera.

“Here we go.” Sam murmured under her breath as you felt your chest tighten up even more. Behind the glass doors you could see the group of boys being surrounded by paparazzi and groupies, their well groomed hair standing out in the middle of the chaos. By instinct you pointed your camera at them and took a picture, accidentally meeting eyes with Yoongi through your lens. His eyes were littered with sleep and a hint of annoyance, which your camera caught with precision. You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself. You had heard that Yoongi loved to sleep and usually wasn’t the most pleasant person to wake up when it came to it, but his expression changed immediately when a fan had approached him to sign their phone. He smiled warmly at them and took their phone in hand, snapped a selfie, and signed the back of their case. You couldn’t help but smile even wider, and Sam noticed.

“That’s cute.” You said softly under your breath. After their bodyguards pushed them through the group, they slowly approached you and Sam. They placed their suitcases and bags onto the ground in front of them as they all lined up in front of you and Sam. You immediately knew what they were doing since it was usually a formality for them to introduce themselves to anyone new they met.

“Hana, dul, ses.” Namjoon said quietly to the boys once they were all settled. And on cue they all bowed accordingly. “Thank you for having us.” Namjoon said, standing up straight meeting your eyes with his, dimples and all. You felt blood rush to your cheeks and the familiar heat following.

“Oh please there’s no need for that --” You laughed nervously and waved your hands in front of you, trying to get them to be less formal with you. Jimin looked up from his bow and he smiled at you and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Aish, Namjoon you didn’t tell us that they’d both be pretty. How are we supposed to act cool now?” Jimin gently smacked Namjoon and laughed, turning to you and Sam. You could feel your face get hotter as they talked about you and Sam

“Oh sorry we totally forgot to introduce ourselves.” You turned to Sam and smiled at her.

“My name’s Sam and I’m going to be your reporter for your time here in the states.” You looked over at her and was a bit amazed at how calm and collected she seemed in front of the boys. You couldn’t help but notice Taehyung flash his little box smile at her.

“My name’s Y/N.” You introduced, bowing your head at them. “I’m going to be your photographer, as you could probably tell from my camera.” You laughed nervously again and held your camera up as if to reassure them you weren’t just a rabid fan, which only made you more embarrassed. “Um,” you were quick to change the main focus from you to the car. “We should get going to the house. There’s a lot we need to talk about.” You cleared your throat as the driver opened the trunk and started taking everyone’s belongings as you slid into the limo, sitting at the end waiting to capture the boys getting into the car.

One by one the boys piled into the car. Jungkook was the first in and didn’t sit beside you. You didn’t take much offense to it since you new he was usually quite shy around girls. But as the boys started scooting onto the seats he had no choice but to sit next to you. You could just tell by looking at him how tense he was. You found it adorable and took a picture of him next to you. He looked up at you, his eyes wide, mouth slightly open. You smiled warmly at him as if to reassure him that he was fine next to you.

“Kookie, chill.” J-Hope said, flashing both you and Jungkook his sunshine smile, but at this point you needed to chill more than Jungkook. Your palms were starting to get sweaty which was leaving some visible prints on your camera.

“So you’re going to be following us around all the time with that camera? I guess it’s a good thing that I’m such a good looking guy!” Jin exclaimed, head held high. “It’ll make your job a whole lot easier for you!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark and shook your head.

“Why are you like this Hyung?” Jimin whined from the other side of the limo, his brows furrowed as he sighed and ran his hands through his hair.