#i feel writhing around on the floor and foaming at the mouth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sooniesspot · 3 years ago

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Coming Down | myg

Okay, so here's the second installment of my BADLANDS Series. This is loosely based around Coming Down by Halsey. I realise I haven't really done them in a specific order, just the one I am pulled to next to write.

Warnings: Dom!Yoongi, Sub!Reader, mentions of slight work stress and societal pressures of being a woman, you know. All that good stuff.

Reader is a F E M I N I S T and proudly so. Loose mention of not wanting kids (which is fine btw) this is just a whole load of smut, not much fluff as it's FWB but.

Okay so, oral, f & m receiving, face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, rough sex, light spanking, choking (for like a milisecond) use of ties, slight sensory deprivation, slight body worship, overstimulation. Slight name-calling?? Yoongs says kitten ironically. Use of safe word/safe signal. Yoongles has a Sir Kink. (I can only apologise) Reader has a hand kink (obvs) just wants to get off and relieve stress, Yoongi is happy to be their relief.

word count: 9.8k 👀🐸☕ don't @ me

'I found God, I found him in a lover'

It was a normal Thursday evening, you'd finished work at 6pm on the dot and took the bus home. Fishing for your keys as you approached the front door of your apartment. Key in the lock, turn. Open. Silence. Walking into your hallway, slippers not quite on the rack by the front door as you rushed out of them into your heels this morning. Just where you left them. Sliding off your heels with a sigh as you trudged into your slippers, immediately comforted by the soft memory foam that supported your tiresome toes. Returning your heels to the rack. Shrugging off your bag and long coat, reaching nearly 2 feet above you on your tiptoes to hang your bag and coat on the coat rack. Muttering to yourself like you did every day. 'Coat and bag, then heels. Won't have to stretch so much.' Venturing into the living room. Magazine on the coffee table infront of the sofa where you had left it last night.

Empty. Not that you expected anyone to be home. No one making you dinner you didn't want, or taking up the whole sofa, or hogging the remote. You lived alone, and you liked it. Sure, for a pretty young girl in her mid twenties you often had looks and questions.

'When are you going to find the one?'

'When will you settle down and have a family?'

And truth be told, you didn't want to settle down. You had told your mother from a young age that you didn't want children, whether that would change over time or not you weren't sure. It hadn't changed. You still wanted your independence and that was okay. Women were not put on this earth just to bear children and you were the firmest believer in that. You liked your life just the way it was. A job you loved that you worked hard for, an apartment you were proud of and nearly every night you got to sleep in your own bed, alone, no one to whine at when they snored or your body being used as a warmer for their cold feet. The few nights you were away from your bed came from your once in a while rendezvous with an acquaintance of yours. Although you knew eachother more than mere acquaintances should.

You met at a bar some time ago. Lights flashed, sure to give you a migraine and music so loud your eardrums could burst at any given moment. You were dragged out to this stingy bar by your bestfriend in her attempt to finally get noticed by that one guy. Even in her twenties she was still as smitten as when you were both back at school. You wore a simple black dress with a low cut front, skirt just above the knee and plain black heels. Hair not much different to your everyday, maybe a few waves here and there and some more mascara than your normal work volume. Trying your best to blend in but still having the ornate ability to have eyes on you in any setting.

You spent a lot of time on the dance floor until your friend had found her prey and you circled around the bar. Much rather wanting to stay at home with a tub of ice cream and your cat watching some terrible reality show about Cabin Crew on a cruise ship. Shouting at the TV to throw the nasty woman overboard; waving your spoon at the screen as your cat looked on in understanding almost. But here you were, slumped against a sticky varnished oak bar, propped up on an old velvet stool, twisting your straw in your glass, nonchalantly spinning the steadily melting ice as you listened to your friend talking to her guy. Suddenly feeling a hot hand against your lower back and someone lean over the bar between you and your otherwise occupied friend. Looking up at a pale man to your left.

" Whiskey on the rocks. " came his order to the bar tender; sharp, leaving no room for anything blasé.

Catching his eye, he looked you over once with a subtle bite of his lip and the flick of his tongue at the seam of his mouth; eyebrow raised with a lingering smirk before he vanished into the sea of people again with his drink.

Dumbfounded, you sat there, staring at the now empty spot where he had been mere seconds ago, the now cool expanse of your lower back where his large hand once was, fizzing. Swinging round on your stool, propping your elbow on the bar behind you, your eyes scanned the room. It wasn't the biggest bar. It wouldn't take long to find him.

Soon you caught eyes with him across the dance floor, stood with his taller, tanned friends as he held the whiskey glass firm in his hand; talking amongst themselves. Dark Brown, almost black hair feathered across his forehead, just above his twinkling chocolate eyes. Thin upper lip pressing to his plumper bottom lip before perfect white teeth graced your vision in an endearing gummy smile. Eyes still not catching you between the bodies of people dancing. Several silver hoop earrings in each ear. He wore a long black sweatshirt, black ripped jeans and boots. A couple of silver rings adorned his strong fingers.

You took a sip of your drink, gaze intermittently fluttering in his direction as you scanned the room, your friend had left to go and dance. Eyes found her and you nodded, knowing she was fine. As your stare focused back on the man before you he finally looked up, catching your eye with his, dark and mysterious. His lips pulling into a smirk again as he gazed at you. Heat bubbling in your chest from his wandering eyes on your body through the gap in people on the dance floor. He eventually made his way over to you and whispered a few words into your ear. Cool and calm.

" Come back to my hotel. "

And so you did. One slightly drunk, intense one night stand later and here you were, 6 months down the line sleeping with eachother whenever he was in town. A classic Friends With Benefits situation, although you weren't really friends.

You walked into your kitchen, greeting your ginger tabby cat with a kiss as she meowed at you in greeting. Grabbing yourself a glass for water and pouring kibble into her bowl on the floor, your routine monotonous but you didn't mind. Your cat tucking into her dinner as you filled up your glass, taking a sip. Looking at delivery menus on your fridge under old magnets from previous travels, deciding on Chinese; plucking the menu from the fridge, you had a training day for other colleagues at work tomorrow which meant a day off for you. No needing to cook dinner and get an early night tonight. Placing your glass and the menu on the coffee table in the living room, you switched on the tv, chucking any random show on then bumbling along to your room, opening the door. Greeted by quiet and serenity. No dirty pants on the floor or unmade bed. You smiled with contentment, unzipping your dress to pool at your feet before tossing it into your wash basket. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your most dependable black bra and panty set glaring back at you as you fixed your hair into a ponytail and wiped off your makeup. Throwing on a sweatshirt and some leggings. A short while later you plopped yourself down on the sofa and switched on the tv, greeting your cat with a scratch under her chin as she sauntered into the room, hopping up on the sofa with you.

Zoning out to the world around you as a terrible drama played on in the background as you glanced over the menu, not really paying attention to anything in particular. You had been a little stressed over the past couple of weeks, mounting pressures of a new senior in your department threatening to change everything you had sculpted into a balanced working environment over the last 3 years. Societal pressures and backhanded compliments from your mother's 'garden party' friends concerning whether or not you were defective in choosing a man. Or having one choose you. But in reality, the truth is, you had a stable relationship previously, unfortunately he was a dick and you're not stupid. So the single life had been your rather quiet reality for the last 18 months. No one to answer to or to worry about. Just you and your cat.

Your mothers friends never seemed to understand that, always too engrossed in whether or not you had a man on top of you every night to see that their husbands had found other, much younger women to be on top of. All of this filtering through the crack in your hardened shell, filling your mind with alternate realities until you got a text coming through. Cutting through all the fuzz that piqued in your brain. Picking up your phone, you saw who it was. Him.

'I'm in town, come over?'

Your reply was short and sweet.

'Sure, be over in 20.'

Snapping out of your previous thoughts and placing the menu back on the coffee table you sat and pondered for a minute. This was fine. This was what you needed. To let off some steam, in a judgement free setting. No cold glances your way, or harsh words uttered, unless it was you being tied to the headboard again like you had been convinced to try last time with his unadulterated gaze looking down at you writhing underneath him. The thought alone had your hair standing on end and a shiver running through you as you stood from the sofa, heading to your room.

Sifting through your wardrobe to pull on some old trainers, checking yourself in the mirror not really knowing why. In your hallway you made sure the lights in the apartment were off and your cat was happy, tucked up in the corner of the sofa snoozing away. Making sure you had your keys and phone in your bag, you left, key in the lock, turn. Locked. Walking down the hallway and down to the ground floor, heading out of the building to head right. The hotel he always stayed at was only a block or so away so the walk was relatively short. The sun was setting now as it hid behind the skyscrapers that canopied the city. Passers by making their way home or even to work. Still lots of cars on the road and bicycles that weaved in and out of traffic. The breeze was light and cherry blossoms danced in the air, separating from a tree as you passed a nearby park. The air was cool, as it would be in early May. Not too hot. Reminded of your journey, that first night.

'When his hair falls in his face and his hands so cold they shake'

You had left swiftly after his original proposition, making up some story about your cat or an early work meeting or something. Anything to get you out of there and with him. His hand returned to the small of your back as you left the bar, being ushered into an awaiting taxi outside. Shuffling all the way over to the other side, he slid in next to you blurting out the address to the hotel at the driver. Hair falling in his face. Eyes wild as they sparkled from the reflection of the dim streetlights. Smirking at you as the same powerful hand you had grown accustomed to on your back, made a home on your knee, slightly tucked under the skirt of your dress. It was now cold to the touch. Strong and intimidating as the taxi started to drive away. Not being able to take his eyes off you he leant forward and whispered in your ear.

" You look so delicious. " His voice low that reverberated through you, straight to your core as he squeezed your knee. Uttering the last syllable with a kitten lock to the shell of your ear.

To this you bit your lip and shifted uncomfortably in your seat. His hand, in turn sliding further up under your dress to the wider expanse of your thigh. The material of your dress pressing his hand taught against your skin.

He swooped down to your ear again, pressing an open mouthed kiss under your ear before he whispered " can't wait to taste you. "

You keened away from his grasp to no avail. He knew what he was doing to you, breath shallow and flighty in your chest as his teeth tugged at your earlobe.

"Please " You breathed, the first word you uttered to him.

Not really sure what you were pleading him for but the fire in your chest and the dampness of your panties flourished an urgency within you that was incorrigible. He smirked again at this, eyes dancing like Fireflies in the night. The hand that was to his side while the other hid between your thighs came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him.

"Soon. " He chuckled before biting your lip.

Drawn back to reality, passing people and cars. Your trainers pulling you towards your destination as your head had an argument with your feet. Was this a good idea? You didn't want to get yourself into a situation where either of you caught feelings. You were a pro at being a cold hearted bitch now but the odd sincere glance your way, especially from him seemed to melt your resolve, even just a little. Recounting the previous times you had taken this walk and what it would lead to.

After your first night with him, it was like a drug. You always wanted more. To say he was good in the bedroom was a complete cop out. He was...He was something. Made you feel things you'd never felt before and noises you'd never in your wildest dreams imagine yourself making. At decibels only a dog could hear. So once the addiction started, you started seeing one another everytime he was in town. Sometimes a couple of times in a week. That went on for a solid 4 months and as work pressures mounted, you fell distant. Always busy catching up with work or having some alone time with your thoughts and your cat. He also got busy, having to travel more for work. You didn't really know much about except it was important and you felt based on the guitar he always packed with him, propped up against the wall in the corner of the room, it was something to do with music.

'I found a devil, I found him in a lover'

The last time you had seen eachother had been a little over 2 weeks ago. That night you'd stayed, which didn't come easily. You were adamant you would leave as soon as you'd cleaned up, even telling him so as he helped you wash in the bathroom, almost requesting a second round when he looked at you through the mirror with those sparkling brown eyes like the devil, but you had been so wound up and pushed to your limits that you felt sleep take you as soon as your body hit the mattress again. Memories of restraints, dark water colours that created the murky palette of his hotel room and the low thumping of your heart, even as you entered the apartment, seeing him there, a tie in hand and a coy smirk. That night he had called you. He never called.

" You busy? " He sounded gruff like he'd just finished working out - which you knew not to be the case.

"When am I ever busy? " You rebuttled with a laugh.

He joined you, then you could hear him grin down the phone. A different sort of grin. A devious one.

"I wanted to try something. "

There was quiet, you wished him to continue silently.

"Something I can't stop thinking about doing to you. " He whispered lowly.

Your ears on fire and furiously red in the face you hung up. Chucking a quick 'omw' text to him in return. That night had been the best sex you'd ever had. That's why you'd stayed. For fear of walking into oncoming traffic at 2am because of your disorientated state.

Your heart skipped a beat at the anticipation of what was to come once you knocked on the door and it sent a thrill through you. Rounding the corner you were met with a bleak grey concrete block of apartments that made up the hotel with a black sign. Crossing the street after looking both ways you jogged up the steps as you saw the door beginning to close after a couple just exited. Sliding in you headed straight for the elevator.

He always had the same hotel room which avoided any confusion. You ran to the elevator that had just opened and pressed the 7th floor. Alone again your mind wandered to your first night here, in this lift.

You'd both stumbled out of the taxi and shuffled over to the lift, he pressed the elevator button furiously as he got impatient; leaning against eachother. As soon as the lift doors were closed he pressed you against the wall, face millimetres from yours as his nose skimmed over yours. Both of your breathing, laboured and slow. His large hands roamed your body; your waist, up and down your thighs. Gripping at the flesh as if he owned it. You wanted him to. God you wanted him to own all of you in that moment. Gaze intense and unwavering as the mysterious glint in his eye grew. His hands slid around the curve of your ass which made you stutter, giving it a harsh squeeze that made you lose your breath.

"I'm gonna ruin you." He whispered devilishly in your ear as he bit the shell.

Pulled out of your reverie as the elevator doors dinged open, signalling you had reached your floor, face burning as you stepped out of the lift, cold fingers pressed to your cheeks to try and cool them. Preparing yourself for what man would greet you at the door. You never knew which one you would get. Sometimes he was ravenous and you never made it to the bed, lipstick smeared and tights ripped as he never had time to waste when he felt such a desperate need for you. Or you would get the cool calm and collected man that caught your eye that night all those months ago. That was, until he got you here. Alone with him.

Walking down the corridor to his room now, counting the doors as they seemed to go on for miles, dark in wood with numbers etched in gold with golden handles. Your breath starting to slip away from you as you imagined as soon as you opened that door you wouldn't be able to breathe steadily again for a while. Room 93. (Shoutout to Halsey's first EP) There it was. You slowed to a stop, almost nervous to knock. 'Just knock' You muttered to yourself. Rolling your eyes as you fidgeted on the spot, sighing as you raised your hand to knock on the door. Knock. Wait. Silence.

You were waiting for a little while which was unlike any other time. Checking your watch and the door number. You waited a little longer and you were just about to walk away when the door opened slowly. You turned; met with the same dancing brown eyes you caught in yours all those months ago, although slightly sunken, maybe he hadn't been sleeping well? His lean frame propped up against the door. Arms folded over his broader chest. Hair fluffed over his forehead, slightly damp. Pale skin flawless and glowing against the dark background of his hotel room and the darkness of his simple black tee and sweatpants. Silver hoops still adorned his ears and rings still glistened on his beautiful hands. Eyes unwavering as they honed in on you. Smirk playing on his thin lips.

"You're early." He mumbled all knowingly, looking at the rings that adorned his knuckles, as if he were about to connect them with a wall.

You stuttered, heart in your mouth as you gawked at the man. Feeling like a naughty school girl that was about to get a ruler spanked across her a-. You stopped the thought for fear of collapsing in the hallway. His eyes still on you, looking you up and down. You mentally slapped yourself for your attire. Sweatshirt and leggings. Not sexy in the slightest. Anyway. Why did you care? Not like you wanted to impress him, right? After another beat his strong arm pulled you in the room by the collar of your sweatshirt, closing the door swiftly behind you and pinning you up against it.

"Just means I have more time." He whispered against your lips.

Sweeping strands of hair out of your face delicately, tucking his fingers behind your ears. He smiled at you, his gummy smile. You never thought that smile would be directed at you. Let alone in this setting.

'With his lips like tangerines, and his colour-coded speak'

His lips moulded to yours with a sudden urgency. Teeth and tongue caressing your lips with power and want. Heavy breaths exchanged as you dropped your bag; hands trying to find purchase somewhere sturdy and stable. Deciding upon the strength of his arms. Eyes closing as you were swept away in the moment of teeth and tongue and pent up tension and wanton need for eachother. His fingers pulling out your hairband so your hair pooled around your face. His fingers lacing through the soft locks as he grinned against your lips. Always having an ornate infatuation with how silky your hair was. How good it felt wrapped around his fist as he fucked you into the mattress. How it spread out behind you like waves across the crisp white bedsheets, framing your face perfectly as you slept.

He missed this. Maybe he missed you. Jolted back from his sweet thoughts, hearing you start to mumble against his lips as he continued to pin you up against the door, your head firmly in his hands.

"Yoongi." You murmured again, slurring the word slightly; drunk off the potent lust he cradled you with.

He never let up from your lips, intent on breathing you in. Hands untangling themselves from your hair as his cool calm hands landed on your shoulders, moving you away from the door to pin you to a wall, nearer to the bed. An eventual destination set in his mind. He couldn't get enough of you. Your hands travelled to cup his cheeks. His lips dry against yours gaining moisture from the saliva rolling around in your mouths as your tongues fought. Small whimpers beginning to swim their way into the air. Music to his ears. Of all the music he'd ever had a hand in creating, he wished he could emulate your tiny whimpers. Your cries for more of him. All of him. Wanting to devour him whole.

"Fuck" He exclaimed, finally pulling away from you, heavy breathing as his forehead was against yours.

Not even giving you time to breath he reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your gorgeous body to his hungry eyes. Knowing now that hiding from his gaze would be futile. An attempt at covering up would leave your ass raw and marks all over every single inch of your body. God's above. He made you feel like the only girl in the world, to him you practically were. He never sought out for any other attention or company from other women. The taste of you as often as he could have you was more than enough to satiate his heart.

He made quick work of your bra before throwing his own shirt off onto the growing pile on the floor. His hands, rough against your soft, plush breasts as his thumbs circled around your pebbling nipples. His teeth latching onto your bottom lip, humming as he looked into your steadily closing eyes. Teeth venturing south along your jaw to your neck and collarbone as he began to grab at the skin of your waist after he finished moulding your breasts; as if trying to memorise the feeling of them in his hands. The weighted comfort he had grown to adore about your chest. Teeth sinking in, enticing low gasps and the tiniest of squeaks as he would bite too hard on already sensitive flesh, intent on getting every inch of your skin covered in small indentations from his teeth. Tongue lascivious against the contours of your neck and collarbones, sickly sweet taste of your skin that drove him wild.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

All you could do was pant and mule against him, your hands in his steadily drying locks. Suddenly pulling away as he untied the drawstring of his pants.

"Knees, now." He whispered authoritively and you happily obeyed.

Flicking your hair off your shoulder you sank down onto your knees. Eyes ignited with a fire he practically stoked out of you. You admired his body on the journey down. Body lithe and pale, defined arms and chest with a flat stomach, no six pack or defined v lines that led to the promising tent that you saw in your line of sight. Just a small happy trail of hair from below his belly button sneaking into the hem of his sweatpants. Swiftly taking them down and off you were greeted with black boxers, looking tight around his cock cased within. You licked your lips in anticipation as his fingers forked through the hair on your scalp. Looking up to his face as he gazed down at you with a stern look in his own eyes; burning into your already flushed skin.

"Someone looks like they've missed this." He smirked as your hand rose to palm him through his boxers.

He released a low hum at the feeling of your hand cupping his balls. You knew that he was very sensitive there, from past experiences.

"Does the slut want my cock?" He asked, a feather of a chuckle rumbled in his chest at your immediate nod as you ran your tongue over the seem of your lips.

Your fingers delved underneath the fabric as you began to pull them down. Sudden slap to your hands had you shying away from him.

"Hungry sluts have to wait don't they, kitten?" His eyes zeroing in on your reaction to the pet name.

You gritted your teeth in vague annoyance at the name, after the first night, you told him you had to be home for your cat. Finding it oddly adorable you were a cat lady he called you kitten ironically, now it's stuck. Your eyes looking away from him, turning your head slightly towards the large window that showed the rest of the city. Twinkling lights now shining in the moonlight. His hand gripped your chin, pulling your attention back to him, forcing you to look up into his devious eyes.

"I don't think you answered me, slut." He snarled; releasing your chin from his grasp.

Your heart jumped in your chest. "Y-yes, sir."

He smirked again, feeling triumphant he patted your head, thumb smoothing over your hair line with ghost like touches before running it along the seem of your mouth, popping his thumb in, flat against your tongue. Closing your lips around him, beginning to suck, big eyes gazing up at him.

"Good girl." He whispered before removing his thumb from your mouth and yanking his boxers down and stepping out of them.

His fingers danced through his damp hair as his cock sprung up against his stomach, a muted groan as the cool air touched his reddened and straining cock. Your eyes widened, never getting used to the sight of his cock, inches away from your salivating mouth, making your panties pool with a carnal need for him to be inside you. Your hands began to rub up and down your jeans clad thighs, waiting with baited breath for him to give you the command. This man and the things you'd do for him would have others question if you were a feminist or not. How a strong single woman with a steady career and bustling social life could want to be so utterly defiled by a man and be at his every whim really flipped your ideology on its head. But a drug was a drug, and you were high on him like cocaine.

"Alright, stop giving me those bedroom eyes." He gushed, dominating voice faltering as he gazed down at you, waiting and ready for him to let you begin.

You fluttered your eyelashes at him, big and bold. Biting your lip as your hands rubbed along your thighs again.

"Fuck, just get over here." He laughed, holding the base of his cock in his hand as your hands slunk up his sturdy pale thighs.

Fingertips sending sparks through his body. Your lips reaching his tip, you looked up at him again as you kitten licked his bulbous tip, testing it. Like testing a car. He hissed to which you smirked. You took your tongue to lick the underside of his cock lightly, teasing his frenulum before swirling your tongue round his tip several times. He puffed out a harsh breath but never said a word, fingers beginning to weave into your hair with a softness you were unfamiliar with. Surrounding the tip with your lips as you slowly sunk the head into your waiting mouth. Giving kitten links to the underside again as you sucked on his tip for a moment. Yoongis breath was heavy, you could tell by his chest moving, half lidded eyes looking down at you as you took more of him in slowly. Tongue still licking everywhere you could. Your other hand still positioned on his thigh as you rubbed small circles in it with your thumb.

Starting to take him deeper in your mouth and pulling him back out for breath had him seeing double. His vision was blurred as he could feel your heavenly lips wrap around his strained cock, precum and spit starting to pool at the corners of your mouth; threatening to spill as you bobbed your head back and forth on his dick. Setting up a rhythm you plunged him in deep so your nose touched his abdomen and he threw his head back with a grunt; gritting his teeth.

"Uh, fuck. Your mouth is so good" He whispered into the air.

'I've got a lover and I'm unforgiven, I'm such a fool to pay this price'

Your mouth worked on him as well as it could. You would take a lot of him in and proceed to gag which made him grunt. As your hand began to work at the base of his shaft. Giving him your all. Making up for lost time.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last." He hissed. His hands in spearing through your hair as his thumbs rubbed at your scalp.

"I should've kept my hands to myself... Always impatient." He chuckled menacingly to himself; shaking his head.

Your breath was heaving as you pulled back from him. Hands gripping his thighs tight as you looked up at the man towering above you.

"What do you say, will you let me fuck your mouth like a good pet?" He asked, hands still in your hair.

"Make me cum, then it's your turn? How about it, kitten?"

No hesitation in your eyes as you gazed up at him as if he had hand painted all of the stars in the sky. You nodded profusely and he grinned at you; swiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

"Good girl, remember your safe signal?" He asked, almost sweet in his tone.

You tapped the back of his thigh 3 times with your finger and he nodded. Feathering his fingers through your hair again, your hand still at the base of his dick lining him up to your waiting mouth. You gave him the go ahead as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth at first. Finally in your mouth his hands speared through your hair behind your ears to hold you still as he began to move his hips back and forth. You had done this before. Let him do this. But this time was so raw and so needy you honestly couldn't fathom how much you needed this. And it wasn't even your turn. He began to set up a rhythm working his length deeper with every thrust; starting to make you gag as you tried your best to relax. He breathed in sharply, his head thrown back as he pumped in and out. His shaft gliding smoothly across your tongue and beginning to slip down your throat as you sputtered around him. Hands firmly gripping the back of his thighs, the same way he was gripping your hair.

"Fuck, fuck. Your mouth. Kills me." He mumbled to himself; thinking you couldn't hear.

You looked up at him, a picture of bliss. Arms locked in place, keeping you still as he slid in and out of your mouth, picking up speed now. The veins in his neck; protruding under a velvet blanket of Frosted skin. Teeth gritted and brows furrowed. He looked down to see you already watching him. To this he groaned deep within his chest at the sight of you so willing and ready for him. Setting his nerves alight he could feel his orgasm approaching. Gripping your hair even tighter as he gave you a moment to breath before jackhammering into your mouth with a low whine.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He whispered before you felt his cock twitch deep in your throat and thick ropes of cum travel down it as he came; hips jerking at weird angles as you noticed sweat beading across his neck and collarbones; reaching up to his hairline.

After he had composed himself he pulled out of your mouth and you swallowed everything still left in your mouth before opening your mouth to show it was empty. He ran a solid hand through his own hair before he pulled you to your feet; planting a heavy kiss to your lips as he walked you back towards the bed. Practically pushing you back on it with a soft bounce. He suddenly rounded to the other side of the hotel room rummaging through a suitcase. Soon returning with several black ties in hand. Giving you a knowing smirk. You felt your stomach sink at the memory of your last adventure with this man. In this hotel room. With those ties. But judging by the look on his face and the fact his previously lifeless cock had begun to spring to life again; you knew it was different.

'I found a martyr, he told me that I'd never'

He began to move you up the bed to where he saw fit. Nodding when he had got you where he wanted. Straddling your waist he grabbed an arm tying the tie around your wrist to then loop it around the headboard. He soon did the same to the other one. Then finally you saw him gazing down at you from above before he slipped a soft silk tie over your eyes fastening it behind your head. Everything went black, but you could hear him; feel him. All around you. Feeling weight either side of your head you suddenly felt breath over your nipple; squirming at the sensation and your clothed pussy clenching around nothing. You felt him kitten lock his way along your breast before landing an unexpected bite against your neck, causing you to pull against the restraints with a sharp intake of breath.

"Remember your safe word, kitten?" He whispered in your ear.

You nodded. "Seesaw."

He sat back on his heels; still straddling you. Crossing his arms with a nod.

"Why is it Seesaw, again?" You ask, a grin sliding onto your face.

He chuckled at this before you felt weight lifted from the bed. You skin crawling with goosebumps as you waited with anticipation. Suddenly feeling deft fingers pulling your leggings and panties down in one swift movement. A beat of silence. Feeling like forever until you felt the same fingers, calloused but oh so soft against the skin of your collarbone.

"You don't remember?" He whispered into the darkness.

You shook your head no as your body began to squirm. Feeling his finger trail delicately down to your chest, followed by his other pointer finger on his left. Circling your nipples in precise motions. You sucked in a breath and your back arched as you felt him blow cool air onto the perking bud.

"Oh kitten, it was the bar where we first met" You could hear the smirk evident in his voice as his fingers trailed underneath the curve of your breasts.

"The night I took you home and ate you so good you nearly passed out." A dry chuckle left his lips at the gasp that left your own.

He began to drag his sturdy fingers slowly; tantalisingly, in soft motions towards your belly button where he would branch out with delicate touch; placing more fingers on your skin as they circled your hipbones. Finally sloping down to your thighs where his grip became firm and he pryed your legs apart to expose you to him. Heat flashing across your face as you whimpered at the action. Oh god. The things he made you feel. You felt electricity surge through your body, bouncing off your bones as you heard him hum.

"Mmmm. So wet, just from sucking my cock, kitten?"

You bit your lip with a whine; nodding profusely. Blush creeping across your cheeks. He seemed to like this as you heard a deep rumbled in his chest in approval. You could feel the bed dip slightly due to transferred weight. Right between your legs. Shit. If only you could see him. What was he doing? Was he pleased? Oh fuck, you didn't shave your le- your thoughts were far removed as you felt lips across the inside of your thigh; just above your knee.

"Shit, I can't wait to taste you." He whispered; sending cool air rushing up to your core.

Feeling his lips drag effortlessly along your thigh to where you wanted him most; needed him. He was tender; savouring the moment. He had missed this, giving you what you wanted. Watching you underneath him. Tasting you; devouring you. That's why he was so quick to cum the first time around. Too excited by the thought of having you again he had started to touch himself in the shower. Thinking of your soft, sweet body; Bending to his every whim. Your mouth stuffed full of his cock. Your enticing wet pussy that always made you blush at the sounds it would make, as he would fuck you. Hard and rough. He groaned at the thought before his face was level with your heat. Soft breaths that made your body wriggle; desperate to escape and want more; all at once. He hooked your knees over his elbows as he held your legs down. blowing against your exposed clit and watching your pussy clench around nothing; glistening with your essence he hungered for.

'With his educated eyes, and his head between my thighs'

"Mmmm. Sweet pussy baby girl." He kissed the apex of your thigh watching you writhe against the restraints. He hadn't even started yet. You were in for a long night.

You didn't seem to notice the name at first. It wasn't what he had called you any of the times before. But as the air thinned out around you; feeling the silence weighted around the room like a thick curtain and nothing was corrected, it almost felt affectionate; coming from his sinful lips that had just attached themselves to your-

"Fuck." Your breath caught as you threw your head back against the mattress.

Feeling lips suckling against your clit with vigor. He knew what you liked and knew how to get you where he wanted you. His tongue began lapping at your clit as his lips sucked where they could. Your breathing was heavy and you tried to pull against the restraints; your legs restless as the odd whimper left parted lips. His eyes although you couldn't see him, were focused on you. Watching every bite of your lip, every salacious moan or whimper; every gasp. You began rocking your hips in a rhythm against his tongue and he moaned at the pressure you posed against him. Trying to feel some friction as his throbbing cock had sprung to life from your first whimper; sandwiched between his abdomen and the mattress.

"God, this pussy is so good." He moaned; muffled by your legs trying so hard to clamp around his head as he continued his ministrations.

Soon enough you could feel the familiar rope spread throughout your body, begin to coil; tight as a spring before you felt a nip to your clit and you unravelled underneath him. Feeling weightless and weighted all at once. Stars beneath the blanket of the silk tie; delicate against your eyes. Head thrashing around as arms pulled with all their might against the restraints. Your back arched as you moaned loudly; legs starting to shake at the force of your orgasm. But that wasn't the end. He flicked his tongue against your swollen clit with more intent. Determined to push you through another orgasm before he even started using his fingers. God his fingers. Your lower body began to lift off the bed as his grip on your legs only got tighter.

"Fuck, fuck Yoongi. Oh my fucking g-"

You heard an animalistic growl as you felt another nip to your clit; yelping at the sudden spark of pain amongst your pleasure.

"Sir. Stick to the rules." He punctuated with a slap to your clit. Back arching for a moment as you felt a pulse throughout your body.

"Or I'll keep biting." He mumbled the last part.

You pouted. "Yes sir." You could feel your orgasm beginning to ebb away as he took longer to return to your clit.

You whined and you felt breath on your clit again as he chuckled. Although your predicament was purely casual. Wanting to get off essentially was your main goal. Neither of you ever rushed. Enjoying one another's company. Feeling his slick, swift tongue dancing along your clit again you moaned; trying so hard to keep quiet out of respect for neighbours as you tried resting your mouth against your arm to muffle your high pitched moans. His tongue retracted until you felt the tip of his tongue tease the edge of your entrance before dipping his tonulgue in for a moment. Your hips bolted you forward at the intrusion before settling back down on the bed. His tongue running up and down from your entrance to your clit in long strokes. Quickly settling his tongue back against your throbbing clit. You yelped as he applied more pressure.

"Fuck, I love this cunt."

Slurping noises ensued as he dove in deeper. You orgasm building again and again, holding on for dear life. Holding onto your sanity. His tongue swirling around the pulsing bud as you continued your previous rhythm rocking against his face. Your knuckles were turning white at the sheer grip you had on the ties; feeling yourself drift away.

"Fuck, please, yoo-"

He pressed his face even further into your heat as you cried out in pleasure. Tongue flicking mercilessly over your engorged clit. Reaching the summit again to fall all the way down into the abyss. He never let up from you as his tongue lapped at your juices spilling from your entrance. Nerves alight and pulsing throughout your body. A thin layer of sweat was evident against your face, collarbones; the whole of your body. Sweat beaded from his own forehead and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as he watched you regain your breath. Stilted in the silence. Only your chest rising and falling as your lungs gasped for air.

He loosened his right arms hold around your leg and brought his fingers forward to your sensitive pussy. Humming to himself as he gathered the Juices on the tip of his fingers and spreading it all over your pussy as it glistened in the dim hotel light. Knowing how much you lost your collective shit over his hands he couldn't help but watch his hands tip toe up to your breast; squeezing the flesh roughly in his hand before slinking it over to massage your neck for a second. Only to grab it a moment later. Your breath caught quite literally as you could feel the bed move from where he was sitting up. He could feel the pressure against your soft skin and the way your breath constricted; only for a moment as he loosened his grip. His fingers still flush against the skin. His veined hand looked like it belonged around your neck. He thought to himself before sliding his thumb into your mouth again; which you accepted with enthusiasm.

'I found a saviour, I don't think he remembers'

"One more from you, kitten. Then I'll fuck you. Okay?" He hummed.

Your reply was noncommittal as you nodded vehemently; still sucking on his thumb. He looked down at you with a certain adoration. Laying there, naked for him. Tied up and blindfolded. If he'd have thought this would be the case after that first night, he would have laughed. But here you both were.

His fingers began to trace the outline of your entrance; whisper like touches that made you clench around nothing. He began experimentally pushing his long slender middle finger inside you a little; chuckling lowly as you let out a whine. Your pussy trying to suck him in further. Wanting to feel him. All of him.

"Sir. Please." You murmured, legs that were now free from his grasp allowing you to rotate your hips.

He wanted to tease. God. He wanted to tease you until the sun came up. But he was desperate and so were you. He removed his finger earning a cry from you. Until he slid in two fingers to your shock and set a brutal pace. Feeling those godly fingers of his curl into you. Moulding you perfectly to him. Tapping against that sweet spot inside. He used his other hand to press your hips to the bed; preventing movement as you felt a touch of sensitivity kicking in. But you put it to the back of your mind; focussing on the way his fingers were drilling into you at an inhuman pace now.

Your senses heightened due to his silk tie that blocked your view. Oh how you wished you could watch his fingers sliding in and out of you like you had done countless times before. Acquiring quite the affinity with the mans hands. Pale, veiny; strong in their ability to hold you but soft when he caressed your cheek, wiping the spit away from the corner of your mouth or the pad of his thumb sweeping away tears from overstimulation. God you loved them.

"Fuck. I'm so close." You cried out, to someone. Anyone who could hear you as he continued his ministrations.

"Yeah? The slut loves my fingers doesn't she?" Yoongi spat; his voice laced with venom.

"Loves my fingers fucking her, huh?"

All you could do was mewl as you could feel your body going into overdrive. Your head slamming against the pillow as you could feel yourself near the edge. Just needing one final push.

"But you love it best when my hand's around your throat. Isn't that right? Slut?"

You hadn't felt his hand move. Too lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Until you felt it grip your throat. Not hard. But just enough. Squeezing when he said slut. Sparks flew and your fingers and toes felt as if they were set to a light simmer. Your body going numb at the feeling and your pussy throbbing as you came. A high pitched moan of his name left your bitten lips as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of you. Body moving in time with your spasming cunt as you began to feel the overstimulation kicking in, rearing its ugly head once more. The pain was excruciating as he continued but the pleasure washed over you again as your entrance continued to clench around his fingers. Silence as a moan caught in your throat. This had to be the biggest orgasm you had ever had. Nerves set alight with matches and turning into a forest fire that exploded like gasoline until it set to a simmer when Yoongi slowed his fingers down ever so slightly. Enamoured by your head thrown back and your mouth in the perfect shape of an O. He would've cum right there, just at the sight of you convulsing beneath him.

"Cause he's off to pay his crimes, and he's got no time for mine'

"Fuck, me." He breathed, shaky breaths too.

Quickly flipping you onto your front, your still tied arms now crossed over one another. Propping your legs up so you were on your knees. A sharp smack to your ass sent you reeling into another sobbing mess. Beginning to plead with him. For something; anything.

Soon enough you felt his hands returning to your hips and ass, caressing them carefully. Your ass flinching at the contact of his lips on your lower back, you could hear a slight slapping sound behind you, assuming he had started to touch himself again. You whimpered at the thought of not being able to watch his veiny hand slide up and down his equally veiny cock. Fuck.

His lips still against your skin as he whispered "I nearly came just like that, watching you cum all over my fingers baby."

There it was again. Baby. Nothing more nothing less. There was a pregnant pause before he sighed, beginning to speak again.

"You're so fucking hot" a groan sounded as the pace of his hand quickened against his length. The slapping sound intensified.

You whimpered, beginning to move your ass up and down, wiggling it at him to invite him in.

"Yoongi, just fuck me already." You whined.

A sharp slap sounded against your ass, reverberating through the room. You winced at the pain, taking in a quick breath before a hand returned to your ass kneading it in his palm.

"Slut is so impatient today. I'll fuck you, don't worry." His words were menacing.

'Now we're lost somewhere in outer space, in a hotel room where demons play'

His hand continued to knead at your reddening cheek before pulling it aside with his thumb, showing your dripping, waiting entrance for him. He almost lost it. Almost. Deciding that you had both waited long enough he lined his throbbing condom clad cock up with your entrance and pushed in with great speed. Hissing at the feeling of your tight wet walls surrounding him.

"Oh god." You managed a strangled whimper into the mattress.

Breath caught in your throat as you could feel his dick beginning to move swiftly inside you. His hips slapping against your ass that was sure to bruise tomorrow, your wrists were aching, your body going numb to every other feeling apart from the feeling of him ploughing into you. Your vision was starry eyed and you hated it. But you loved it. Sobs began to rack through your body as he spanked you once again, sending waves of pain and pleasure through you.

His pace continued as all you could do was lie there with your hands tied, begging for anything he was willing to give you. But also feeling the familiar sting of too much. But it was never too much. You willed your body to continue on. To not give up the ghost yet. You prayed for your body to fight on. To take every thrust he battered into your throbbing, weeping pussy.

The coil you had almost forgotten existed now in the plains of numb, vacant ability to even string a sentence together, began to tighten again, expecting a fraying spent body, not one this eager for your umpteenth orgasm this evening. Your pussy clenched as he continued, hollow groans you imagine him with his head back as he thrusted into you, licking his perfect lips with that sinful tongue. God, he made you crazy.

"Yoongiiiiii, fuck I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, please" your tone indescribable as you panted for breath that escaped you with every thrust as his skin continued to slap against yours.

Suddenly feeling him pull out which almost made you weep but being turned back over onto your back, the tie being ripped from off your head. You were greeted by a furiously sweating Yoongi. Sweat dripping from his dark chocolatey hair just above his eyes. His lips swollen pink from where he had probably been biting on them so much, not to mention when he had used the same lips to devour you not 20 minutes prior. His chest was heaving and lips parted as he gazed at you for a moment.

"I'm seeing that gorgeous face when you cum, no way I'm missing that." He stifled a laugh as he lined himself up with your entrance again after wrapping your legs around his torso.

'They run around beneath our feet, we roll around beneath these sheets'

Sliding in once more you rattled your wrists against the silk tie restraints as you cocked your head back in pleasure. You let out a high pitch moan, almost exasperated in tone, your back arching up into him before slumping back on the bed in defeat. Yoongi almost reading your mind whilst still thrusting inside of you began to untie the ties that bound your wrists. You thanked heaven for your saving grace. You could run your hands through his hair now, feel his sweaty skin beneath your fingertips. And soon after your hands were free he laced them in his own. This also being new to you. You knew the drill when having sex with him. He laid down the ground rules early on. No kissing. No cuddling. No hand holding. So what he did next really sent you through a loop.

"Fuck I'm close." He sighed before leaning down to kiss you.

His lips were salty, battered and bruised much like your own but you didn't care, you kissed back with all your might as he continued to thrust away inside you. Feeling his cock hit that sweet spot again you mewled, breaking the kiss with your head thrown back.

"Here kitten?" He asked, smirk evident in his voice.

You whimpered with a nod as he continued to thrust in the right place, hitting your spot so deliciously you couldn't help cry out when his pace turned rampant and he held your hips in his bone crushing hands, sure to bruise tomorrow. The punishing pace was set as his hips bucked into you and you tried to grab at anything you could, finding no sturdy comfort in the crisp white hotel sheets beneath you. Your breathing was erratic, you hadn't realised you'd been sweating until now, although not as much as the man above you. You watched in distracted awe at the sweat running down his broad chest, along his stomach and down to where his cock was pummelling into you.

You could feel it again, serious this time. Your orgasm creeping up on you faster than any bullet. Your legs tingled and your toes curled. Your knees felt like they would break and your arms felt detached from the rest of your body. In the last moments you saw him gazing down at you, exasperated, fucked out beyond belief. But smiling. You reached up at the nape of his neck and pulled him down to you, pressing your lips against his as you succumbed to the pleasure that wreaked havoc throughout your body. A heart wrenching shout came from your lips. In every moment, a glitch of your body as it spasmed with unruly disregard and poor timing. Your pussy clenched repeatedly on his cock while he continued to thrust inside of you.

"Oh fuuuck, I'm coming." He groaned into your neck as he used hard, purposeful thrusts as he came in the condom.

'He's coming down, coming down'

The sweat that accumulated on both your bodies cemented you together for moments after. All pretence and notions suspended as you both caught your breath back. Heaving. Breathing one another in. Soon Yoongi peeled himself off of you and went to remove the condom. You lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Stars still there. You weren't imagining it in the end. Scraping your hair from off your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow. Soon he returned, bouncing onto the bed next to you, looking up at you in adoration almost. A nervous smile present on his lips as if he didn't just drag you to the 7th layer of hell with him. Or was it heaven? You could never be sure.

You looked over at him with heavy lids, inquisitive look on your face as he swept hair from your shoulder. Looking down at you with that same smile. Before -

"You fancy going on a date, some time?"

NOW Mr Min is usually not my main man but i can't help it, just, shit okay Min Yoongi.

I realise I'm probably going to hell for this but we joon

Hope you guys enjoyed, working on the next installment as we speak 🤪 if you want to be added to a taglist let me know 🥴

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

#BADLANDS x BTS #smut series #myg x reader #non idol au #min yoongi smut #this is intense #i can only apologise #bts #bangtan #bts smut

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jooniyah · 4 years ago

Text

Poison Apple : The Finale

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem Reader ; Min Yoongi x Fem Reader

AU: Yandere!au, Moneylender!Taehyung

Genre: Angst, Mature, Smut rated R

Warnings: NON CON, Violence, Hard Yandere behavior, implied forced pregnancy, childbirth, emotional abuse, blackmail, kidnapping, child maltreatment, vehicle crash, surgery, hospitals, character death, degradation and physical abuse, slapping, cum play, choking, spanking, manipulation, heavy profanity, smut, blood, knives, guns, assassins, and murder.

Word count: 37.1 K

Cover edit: @dameleia ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ˡᵒᵛᵉˡʸ ᵖˡᵘᵐᵎ

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions of the characters in this fiction. This is to be treated as pure fantasy, and should not be misconstrued to be demeaning the idols in any way. If any of the above warnings cause you discomfort, kindly refrain from reading.

This is a non-consensual setting, please proceed only if you are not triggered by the warnings. All warnings for Chapter 1 and 2 apply. I repeat, please be sure to read all the warnings carefully.

Author’s note: This is the final chapter of the Poison Apple Trilogy. Please make sure to read Part 1 and Part 2 before proceeding.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

The vapor from the milk swirled up Taehyung’s nostrils. He slowly withdrew his lips from the cup.

“I’m ready to die if that’s what you really want, Y/N.” He looked at the cup, gently twirling it in his hand. He crinkled his nose and raised his eyes to yours.

“Will you kiss me goodbye?” He hesitated briefly. “Kiss me like you mean it. Will you?”

Heavy salty drops streamed down your face. Dipping your head, you slowly pressed your lips against his. He deepened the kiss, lapping at your mouth like a man dying of thirst. You closed your eyes, fighting your instinct to flinch and step back. He sighed into your mouth, moaning something that clearly resembled your name.

His fingers tightened around the cup. When you broke the kiss, he looked up with teary eyes.

“I’m ready, Y/N.”

He raised the cup to his meet his lips again. Something snapped inside you, and you instinctively reached out to stop him.

“I am not a killer,” you whispered, voice breaking. “I am not you.”

His features became gloomier. He shook his head, not letting his grip slacken.

“You only want to know about where he is buried.” He dropped his gaze. “Before you try to kill me again.”

Hot blood rose to your cheeks. You did want to go to your husband’s grave. Taehyung was a monster. Undoubtably so. But killing him wasn’t going to bring back all that you had lost.

“No. I-” You had nothing to say. You had all the reasons in the world to want Kim Taehyung dead. But you could not find a reason to want him alive.

“I just- I don’t- you could just let me go, Taehyung.” The words came out in a whisper, sounding like a prayer.

A bitter wince shot through his features. Before you could react, he swatted your arm away and tipped the cup over his mouth in one quick flash.

You watched in stunned horror as he downed all the poisoned milk, witnessing his throat bob around the liquid. He wiped his mouth, setting the cup down.

“I’d rather die, Y/N.” He licked his lips slowly. “Like I just did.” A tired smile stretched over his lips.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Taehyung? Taehyung!”

His body was convulsing, froth trickling down the side of his chin. His eyes were fixed on you, but there was no emotion in them. They were devoid of animation. Like the eyes of a ghost.

You crouched down, trying to hold him still.

“Ambulance!” you shouted, trying to get up from the floor. His arm wildly slashed at the air, finding purchase on your ankle.

“No…” he croaked, his face twisting with agony. “Don’t, Y/N.”

You shook him off, running to fish your phone out of your bag. Just as your finger circled the call button, a cold wave of realization hit you. You couldn’t call anyone but Taehyung on your phone.

Spinning around, you caught sight of the man convulsing on the floor.

“I’ll be back. Just- just stay here,” you whispered, making haste to rush out of the kitchen.

You flew like the wind to the brigade of guards patrolling the mansion.

“Help!” you screamed, waving your hands above your head. “Get an ambulance!”

The men turned and looked at you weirdly. It was as if your screams had simply vanished into thin air before falling on their ears. They made no move, there was no sign of acknowledgement.

“Can’t you hear me?” your voice grew even louder. “Taehyung is dying in there!”

Still, no one moved.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you a bunch of morons?”

They lowered their weapons, holding them so the muzzles were facing the ground. A guard jogged over to you, removing his Aviators as he did so.

“We know what’s happening, Mrs. Kim. We were ordered to stay out of anything that happened this evening.”

“What?!” Time was ticking on like a time bomb over your head. “What the hell? Get the ambulance this instant!”

The guard’s face flinched. “You don’t understand, Mrs. Kim.”

You bit your quivering lips. “Who had the nerve to give such an order?”

“It was Mr. Kim, ma’am.”

Your gaped in stunned surprise.

The guard went on. “He talked to us before stepping into the house. His instructions were clear. He ordered us not to intervene or stop you in any way.”

“Not to stop me? But I’m trying to save him! Help me!”

The man shook his head, his face betraying the pain he was going through.

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” You thrust your hand at him. “Hand me the damn car keys!” He placed them on your palm, and you ran back into the mansion.

Taehyung was writhing on the floor, and his dull eyes lit up when he saw your outline.

“…..came back…” he mumbled, still foaming at the mouth.

“You’re a stupid bitch, Taehyung!” you spat, latching your hands under his arms, and pulling him up.

He was so damn heavy, and you wheezed as you dragged him to the door. Adrenaline gave you inhuman strength - strength you never knew you had possessed. Huffing and wheezing, you reached the porch with Taehyung clinging onto you like a withered leaf.

The guards were huddled by the car, visibly distressed. They didn’t, however, make any attempt to help you lug Taehyung into the vehicle. The guard from earlier stepped forward, blocking you when you tried to hop into the driver’s seat.

“Ma’am- I was instructed to ask in case… “ He quickly glanced at his boss, “… you know what you’re giving up by saving Mr. Kim, don’t you?”

You glared at the man and turned to see Taehyung collapsed in the backseat. He had passed out. Turning back, you shook your head helplessly before pushing the guard away.

Strapping on the seat belt, you sneered at him.

“I know.”

The tires screeched loudly, the smell of hot rubber on gravel filling your nose as you tore out of the gates in full speed.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Kim Namjoon was watching the blue skyline out of his penthouse suite when his phone buzzed. He didn’t like loud ringtones. Naturally, it wasn’t a surprise that his phone was on vibrate mode. The glass coffee table vibrated, humming along with the phone. He didn’t hear it. Nor did he see the way his phone slightly moved with each ring.

“Um, Excuse me? My phone- can I have it back?”

You bit your lips, resisting the urge to dissolve into a puddle of tears. Handing the phone back to the stranger, you sniffed and retreated to the sofa.

Hoseok’s phone had been switched off. Calls to Bo Na and the Jung house didn’t go through either. You had hoped to run back into Hoseok’s arms, away from all the horrible tangles you were ensnared in.

But you were left alone. Your best friend wasn’t around to hold you. What had happened to him? The deafening loneliness had driven you to do the unthinkable – calling Kim Namjoon.

And he hadn’t picked up either. What were you supposed to do? Were you free to leave? What about the man in the ER? You couldn’t leave him to die. Or could you?

Breathing deeply, you rose from the sofa, making your way through the corridors in a daze. Your legs felt incredibly heavy with each step. You had expected to feel relieved. Joyous even. But why then was it so hard to turn your back? You stopped midtrack as if you were shot. Monster or not, you weren’t leaving a dying man alone. Turning on your heel, you slowly retraced your steps to the sofa.

Right on cue, a nurse opened the door and called out “Who’s here with Mr. Kim Taehyung?”

There was only a split second to make your choice. Would you regret it? You didn’t know.

You raised your hand.

“I am.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was unconscious and he remained so for hours on end. You found yourself internally struggling during the whole time. You kept walking to the door, turning back, sighing, and sitting down again. It was a hell of a torture to reason with yourself. Weren’t you a better human being? Shouldn’t you stay at least till he woke up? But what would happen then? Would you still get to leave him after?

It was the twelfth time that your hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn it, when his groggy voice called out.

“You… still here?”

Spinning around, you stared at him with wide eyes. He wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings. The dazed look on his face confirmed that.

“Y/N… where am I?”

He looked at the IV cannula hooked to his arm. It came flooding back to him. You had poisoned him. He remembered drinking the milk. He had vague memories of feeling incredibly lonely for a while. But then you had returned. You had helped him up to stand on his feet. But he didn’t know what had happened after that.

He saw your shocked face, his mind still buzzing.

“Y/N, who brought me here?” Speaking made his throat burn. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tide over the pounding headache. “I left clear instructions.”

You remained by the door, looking at him warily. “I did.”

He raised his eyebrows in shock. “You?” A sudden bout of coughing interrupted him. “You brought me? How- why?”

Good question. Why indeed? Because you were a fool? That was probably right. You hadn’t expected to feel so guilty when you had planned to poison him. Who poisoned a monster and then drove him to the hospital without fleeing for their lives? Fools did.

“Y/N,” he repeated, his eyes latched onto yours. “You didn’t leave.”

The statement hung in the air like a smothering wet cloud. You stared back at him, finally finding your voice.

“I am now.”

When you turned again, the question whipped on your back like a hot rod.

“Why didn’t you let me die?”

The words rolled into a tight ball in your throat. What were you supposed to tell him?

“I- I’m not a cold-blooded killer like you, Kim Taehyung. I can’t live with that.”

He strained his burning throat to whisper hoarsely:

“Stay with me then. Come here.” He patted the side of his bed.

You scoffed in mock surprise. Folding your arms in defiance, you gave him your toughest glare.

“I’m leaving now.” You took a step forward and hissed “I let you live. And now I’m going.”

He chuckled, and then coughed before smirking at you. “I have your passport. You don’t have a penny to your name. Hoseok isn’t here to bail you out either.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Hoseok? Did Taehyung do something to him?

“H-Hoseok? Where is he? What did you do to him, you bastard?”

He beckoned to you with his finger. “Come here and I’ll tell you.”

You sidled closer, worrying your lip so much that you could taste the blood. His hand shot to your face, the back of his fingers caressing your cheeks before his thumb traced the tiny bitemark on your lip. With a firm tug, he pulled you so that you were sitting haphazardly on the bed. His hand resumed brushing your face.

“Now- where was I?” he purred, a gentle smile tugging the corners of his lips.

“Hobi- where’s-?”

He hummed, nodding. “Oh, yes. Well, I got him on the run. He won’t be coming back in a hurry.”

“What did you do to him?” Your voice was lower than a whisper.

His finger continued drawing lazy circles, slowly working its way down your arm. “Pass me that glass of water, honey,” he said, unmindful of your agitation. You didn’t move, too stunned to react.

“Honey? The water?” His voice grew deeper, the slight stern note kicking you into action.

You passed it to him with shaking fingers, and he grinned happily, like a child who had won his first race. Each second dragged on, as you watched his mouth sip the water in agonizing slowness. He enjoyed tormenting you for a while longer, before giving in to the painful suspense on your face.

“I set him up for tax fraud, baby. He decided he’d rather exile himself than stay and get his ass thrown in jail.”

“Where-”

He shook his head prettily. “Oh, I wouldn’t ask that question, honey. He can’t contact you or he’d be dragged back into the country through call tracing.”

He loved the shocked look on your face. He had begun to miss the surprised wide eyes of older days. These days, it was increasingly difficult for him to catch you off guard.

You shook your head, fighting back the angry tears.

“You’re like mold, Kim Taehyung. You destroy everything you touch. I despise you.”

He stared at you, bringing your palm up to his lips and dropping a kiss in it.

“I love you.” He stopped himself before saying out loud : “You saved me. You love me too.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

It was a warm and toasty day, with crisp blue waves lapping at the beach in serenity. Hoseok propped his legs up on the deck chair, rubbing his feet together and shaking the grainy sand off his soles. He looked at Bo Na who was approaching with two martini glasses.

“Baby?” she asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, blowing out his cheeks.

“I just- Y/N… I feel so goddamn guilty for leaving her.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m a coward, aren’t I?”

She set the glasses down, reaching over to pat his head over the brown straw hat.

“We had no choice, Hobi-yah,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “That asshole completely ruined all of our lives.”

Hoseok looked straight ahead at the kids surfing along the waves.

“Poor Y/N,” he said, heart dropping. “She’s chained to a monster. Poor girl. She’s pregnant too.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I feel like crap, Bo Na.”

Hoseok’s wife patted his hand soothingly.

“We’ll go back as soon as we sort this out, Hobi. We will.”

He shook his head in resignation. He knew that Taehyung had completely fucked him over. The guy was like a damned viper. He would find some way or the other to keep throwing Hoseok out of your reach. The only way he could go back was after he killed that bastard.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

When she pushed the door open, Taehyung was doubled over his desk, passed out.

“Mr. Kim?”

She reached out to touch him, feeling his weak breath ghost her fingers. She leaned over the table, picking up the phone to call emergency. A weak hand grasped her forearm, and Taehyung slowly raised his head.

“Y/N,” his lids were half-shut, skin cold and clammy to touch. “Y/N, don’t leave me.”

“Let me call emerg-“

He pulled her closer, pressing his forehead into the warmth of her hips.

“No, just stay.”

Soft hands combed through his hair, and gently brushed the long strands away from his eyebrows. He was definitely in heaven. The fingers traced his earlobe, drawing lines along the side of his neck.

“Sit on my lap,” he croaked, gripping the hips tight.

And then he felt the heavenly weight sink on his thighs. You were being so compliant.

“Kim,” the voice drew him in, sending jolts of delight throughout his body. “You need to rest.”

He shook his head, the sudden action making his delirious brain go into overdrive.

“No, you’ll disappear if I do.”

The hand cradled his jaw, and a wet kiss spread a lovely warmth over his clammy forehead.

“I promise I won’t.”

“I feel so tired, Y/N.” His lids fluttered closed, a cold silence blocking his ears. He could feel you panting and struggling to hoist him up. His mind started losing focus. The last thing he heard before passing out cold was:

“I love you, Kim.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“How much longer, Se Jong?” the man asked, irritation evident on his features. He was in a bad temper, and the cheap wine had served to infuriate him even further.

“Patience, man,” Se Jong said, leaning back in his chair. The bulb above their head was covered in grime, and it flickered like a dying candle.

“Let me do something. Anything. You’re making me sit on my ass all day every day for months now.”

Se Jong tsked. “You don’t know how dangerous Kim Taehyung is. One wrong move could cost us our lives, man. Why else do you think I’m stuck with you instead of all those hitmen I could have hired?”

The room was silent, the stale smell of cigarettes lingering in the air like unsaid words.

“No one is ready to cross Taehyung,” Se Jong continued. “I’m having such a hard time finding guys to join us without blowing my cover.” The chill running up his spine was very real. “Taehyung’s men would empty their guns inside my head if they even smelled our plots.”

The man opposite him shook his head dejectedly. “What if- what if we change the target? Can’t we do something to his wife- what’s her name? You said he follows her like a blind puppy.”

Se Jong straightened up, looking at his mate carefully. “It’s a bit risky, he drives her around wherever she goes… But that’s certainly an idea…”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

When Taehyung opened his eyes, bright light was streaming in through the windows. His neck was sore. The headache was a terrible bitch, throbbing and making his temples hurt. What puzzled him the most though, was the fact that he was lying on the couch in his office. He didn’t remember going over to the couch.

What he definitely remembered was the warm crook of your hips against his face. But- he looked around- you never visited him in his office. The throbbing resumed with renewed vigor. Had he been dreaming?

“Mr. Kim? Sir?”

His secretary hesitated at the door, hand on the doorknob. He shook himself, sitting upright.

“Yeah?” His eyes were groggy and took a second to focus on the woman.

She worried her lip, unsure.

“Are you alright?”

He didn’t know. “Did you see my wife? I thought she was…” He looked beyond her, expecting to see you around the corner. He swung his eyes back at his secretary. Her blank face told him the answer. No one could bypass Na Yeon and reach his office. He nodded to himself.

“…Never mind.”

“Sir, do you want me to call the doctor?”

“What? No. I’m fine. I just-” He looked around, still uncertain. “-did you come in earlier?”

Confusion spread on her face like ink on parchment.

“I have been with HR all day, going over this quarter’s staffing plans. I came back just now.”

He took a deep breath, coughing immediately after.

“Let me fetch you some water, sir.”

She left, leaving behind a very concerned Taehyung.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Throughout the day, Taehyung’s thoughts kept returning you. He was sure it had been you. He didn’t remember a lot of details, but the words “I love you, Kim” came back to him, your sultry voice calling his name.

He was agitated on the drive home. He had called his guards just to make sure. The head guard at home had confirmed that you had in fact never left home.

Who then had uttered those words to him?

“Bin-ah,” he called out.

“Yes, boss?”

The man was seated on the front passenger seat.

Taehyung told him where he wanted to go, and Wo Bin nodded. The car changed course, making a full U turn.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“I assume you don’t have an appointment?” the psychiatrist asked.

Taehyung shrugged. He wasn’t a man who made appointments. He was a man of very little patience, except when it came to matters concerning you.

“So, how can I help you, Mr. Kim?”

It wasn’t easy to exactly define what he needed help with. In fact, it was obnoxious that the doctor thought he even needed help.

“I only came because I…I was confused.”

“Alright. What are you confused about?”

Taehyung pursed his lips. He didn’t really know. He felt like the doctor wouldn’t truly ever understand it either. Nevertheless, he hazarded a try.

“My wife- I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I see. It’s only natural to-“

Taehyung clucked his tongue in exasperation. “No, you don’t understand. I keep seeing her. Hearing her. I feel like I might hurt her.”

The doctor considered the statement for a second.

“Let’s talk about the first part. You keep seeing her? Could you explain that?”

It would probably sound crazy. Maybe there was nothing wrong with him. He might have just been tired. Taehyung sighed.

“I- I saw her at my office today.” He ran a finger over his brow. “I faintly remember her touching me and talking to me. She helped me lie on the couch.” His brows creased, internalizing the words as he said them. “But when I woke up, she wasn’t there, she had never left home today, in fact.”

The doctor nodded his head softly, as if he heard stories like this all the time.

“Has this happened before?”

The times he had conjured up fantasies about you were innumerable. How many times had he imagined your plush lips around his cock? How many times had he almost felt your breath on his neck? Too many.

“No.”

“You talked about feeling like hurting her. How exactly do you mean?”

Apart from the fact that he had killed your husband before your eyes?

“She…” Taehyung swallowed thickly. “… she’s pregnant. With her first husband’s child.”

“Does it bother you?”

Well, he did want to fucking rip it out of you. It made him tremble in revulsion to see the bastard growing inside you, flourishing and mocking him every day.

“Sometimes, yes.”

“How does it make you feel?”

Like a fucking loser.

“I love her. I want her all to myself. I can’t share her.”

“Sharing her love with the baby irks you?”

Fuck yes. You couldn’t and shouldn’t love anyone or anything that didn’t involve him.

“I guess.”

“Could I suggest getting a pet, Mr. Kim?”

Why a pet? So that you could hand an even bigger slice of your love to it and ignore him?

“What good would that do?”

“See, Mr. Kim, you have a problem adjusting to the fact that your wife is pregnant, and that you’ve been left out of a significant part of her life-“

This guy seems to be getting somewhere

“-So, adopting a pet could help you bond with her more. It’s like having a baby too, you both would get to participate in raising the pet. It might help you get closer and feel less bothered by the baby.”

What kind of logic works that way?

“I guess I can try getting one.”

“Well, I would suggest adopting one after making sure you’re both not allergic.”

You weren’t allergic to dogs. Or cats. You used to love walking your neighbor’s dogs when you were single.

“Fine.”

“Right, Mr. Kim. Would you like to come back for another session to discuss further? You might have some issues I’d like to help you with.”

Like hell he would.

“We’ll see.”

“You see, Mr. Kim, you seem to be carrying a lot of emotional baggage. We could talk more over another session….”

Taehyung stood up, giving the doctor a firm nod that was supposed to convey his thanks. Without another word, he stepped out and left.

Once outside, the car again changed course towards an animal shelter. Taehyung had no trouble choosing the pet he wanted. You loved dogs. He had seen you eagerly asking your neighbor if she wanted help with her dog. He even knew which breeds you liked.

“Do you have Golden Retrievers? Corgis? Pomeranians?”

The attendant nodded. Leading Taehyung to the kennel, he said “We have a Golden puppy. He’s a great little guy.”

The puppy in question was curled up in a corner, his silky coat littered with burrs. He looked up at Taehyung, cute eyes shining in expectation. There were other pups with him, but he seemed to seriously miss human interaction. His leg was bandaged, and he whined at the human looking at him through the bars.

“The bandage?”

The attendant clicked his tongue.

“They get into fights, and another pup nipped at his leg. But he has had his shots, no worries.”

A lone puppy. Picked on by other pups.

A couple hours later, Taehyung walked out of the shelter, carrying the Golden pup in his arms, all cleaned and spruced up, with a huge red bow around his neck.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You were cursing in frustration at the needles. The old school sentimental mom in you had wanted to knit your baby a warm fuzzy sweater. But the damned stitches kept falling apart. It was bizarre, considering you were very good with needles. You had even embroidered Yoongi’s initials in all his pocket squares with seamless finish.

“Damn it!”

You threw the ball of yarn over your shoulder, cross at the stupid thread. Sighing in frustration, you were trying to calm yourself when something butted your elbow. It was wet. Was it him licking you? You shuddered and turned slowly.

A wet nose was against your elbow, yes, but the owner of the nose wasn’t Taehyung. It was a handsome puppy. The ball of yarn was securely nestled in his mouth, and he wagged his tail at you, shaking his pretty bow in the process.

“Hey…” You crooned, smiling down at him. “Who are you, boy?”

Taehyung stood at the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded.

“We adopted him.”

You stood up, all the messed-up yarn falling to the floor.

“We did what?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“We have a puppy together.”

You looked down at the puppy in disbelief. His starry eyes were bright as they looked up at you. You knelt down and patted his head, happiness filling up your heart.

“And I don’t get a say? You should have asked me.”

“Well, you love him. So why bother picking a fight with me?” He found your pouting attractive. “Of course, you get a say, you get to name him.”

You never thought anything Taehyung did could ever delight you. But fate had its way, and you were grinning as you booped the pup’s nose, saying:

“Almond. You’re Almond.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Namjoonah?”

The younger Kim stopped outside his father’s study, popping his head in at the door.

“Yeah, dad?”

“Your mother didn’t say you were coming tonight.”

“Ah, I wanted to drop by before I headed to Ha Ni’s.”

“Give your girlfriend my love.”

Namjoon nodded. He saw his father’s face twist in uncertainty.

“What is it, dad?”

His father wiped his glasses, signaling Namjoon to close the door and grab a seat.

“I can’t say much, boy, but Kim Taehyung showed up at my office today.”

Namjoon did a double take.

“What?” His mouth went dry. “What did he want?”

His father rubbed his temples, deep in thought.

“He came for help. Saying he feared harming his wife.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched. “Y/N?”

“Yes. He apparently doesn’t enjoy Min’s baby disrupting his life. Do you- Do you think he would hurt her? Or the baby?”

The hooded eyes burned with anger. Exhaling sharply, Namjoon’s thick voice growled:

“Well, she would deserve it then. I don’t give a shit about that bitch.” He rose, clenching his fist tight. “I don’t even think it’s Min’s baby anyway.”

He stormed out, leaving his dad staring at the doorway, worry creasing his features.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung was grabbing his coat and keys when he heard the voice. He raised his eyebrows at his secretary.

“Mr. Jinyoung is waiting to meet you.”

Na Yeon’s boss looked at her in confusion. “Isn’t he supposed to be here at 3 pm?”

“No, Mr. Kim, his appointment was at 11 am.”

He didn’t believe her. He had carefully scheduled his appointments around your ultrasound. He wanted to go with you.

“Let me see the appointments journal.”

Sure enough, his secretary had jotted down Jinyoung’s name for a 11 am appointment. But he remembered saying 3 pm so clearly

“Tell him to come back at another date. I am leaving.”

“But, sir –“

He flashed her a warning look. Kim Taehyung was never contradicted. Except, of course, by you.

“I am taking my wife for her sonogram. Don’t call me unless it’s urgent.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

At the doctor’s, he held your hand, squeezing it gently. Your attempts to shrug his hand off were futile. Besides, it was an expensive clinic that only the elite could afford. It was a given that everyone knew who you both were. The social eyebrows would frown on you if something awkward happened.

The gel was cold on your belly. It made your toes curl. The transducer wand moving all over your belly produced images of your baby on the monitor. Involuntary tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you watched, spellbound. A deep ache in your heart reminded you that Yoongi wasn’t present to see his child’s sonogram.

In his place, however, was another man, his murderer, holding your hand and blowing on your knuckles as he too silently watched the child’s images.

Taehyung couldn’t understand what he was feeling. There was a tiny version of you, getting ready to come out to the world, trusting him and you to be loving parents. His mind screamed at him that it was part Min too, but his heart wanted to focus on the part Y/N at that moment.

“You have a very healthy baby, Mrs. and Mr. Kim,” the doctor said, smiling down at you. While you wiped yourself clean, Taehyung thanked the doctor and murmured some questions which you didn’t quite catch.

“Very well, then.” You saw her nod in enthusiasm.

As he steered you out the door, you hissed at him, asking what he had been up to.

“Nothing.” His face was sincere. “I told her that we didn’t want a gender reveal.”

You spun around.

“We? You fucking impose your ideas on me all the time, Taehyung.” You hadn’t wanted to know the gender either. But it was rude of him to take all decisions on his own, tying it up with the ‘we’ bow.

“I know what you want, love.”

You faced away, fuming. It was maddening how he seemed to read you so well.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was at a loss for words. He had missed eight appointments, each one just as important as the other. Just because he seemed to have his schedules mixed up. Each time his schedule clashed with plans to take you out, he chose you over his own appointments. He couldn’t understand how his time got so muddled however much he tried to keep his professional appointments away from personal time.

Na Yeon was standing before him, worrying her lip, looking meek.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, can I suggest something?”

A sharp sigh gave her the permission she sought.

“Can I arrange Mrs. Kim a personal chauffeur?”

“What?”

She took a step back instinctively, scared at his tone.

“I just think… that it would be easier for you.” She looked like she would faint with fear. “I mean, she could have the chauffeur to take her to her appointments. And- and he can keep tabs on her whereabouts.”

Taehyung was about to deny the idea. But then, he remembered the eight missed meetings, and the deals that hadn’t gone through because of them. He grudgingly admitted that it would perhaps be better to get you a chauffeur of your own.

“Well, tell Wo Bin to arrange for one of the guards to-“

He was interrupted by a file, which she extended to him meekly.

“I have already chosen very skilled people to shortlist from, sir. Using our guards might make Mrs. Kim feel uneasy.”

He thought about it. Hiring one of his own men to drive you around was safer. But you would feel on edge. As if having dozens of men around you at the house wasn’t enough. Na Yeon was right.

He skimmed through the file. There were five shortlisted candidates.

“The best out of these five?”

She drew nearer, leaning to turn the pages. Her perfume reached his nostrils. The smell brought some vague memories back. Weird, faded ones.

“This man,” she pointed at a picture, and then turned the page over to point at another.

“And this one. These two are contenders, very skilled and trustable.”

Taehyung nodded.

“Hire whichever one is the best.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Jinyoung was deep in discussion with Taehyung, talking over the nuances of their deal. The water in the crystal glasses started to ripple, and Jinyoung scowled at his counterpart, pissed. The source of the vibration was Taehyung’s phone-and it flashed your name on the caller ID.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate.

“Yes, love.”

“Stop calling me that, asshole.”

“Tell me, my sweet.”

“Blueberries.” Taehyung reached for his notepad, jotting down. “Chocolate ice cream. Apricots. No, Dragon fruit. Oh, and Hershey’s kisses. Get me the almond ones.”

Taehyung subconsciously nodded his head, writing all your demands down.

“Anything else, honey?”

“Fuck you.”

“I love you too. I’ll get them to you.”

Taehyung grinned when you cut the call abruptly. He was still grinning when Jinyoung glared at him.

“What the fuck, man?” He was peeved. “In the middle of a business meeting?”

Replacing the phone on the table, Taehyung glided his hand to the file he was reading.

“It was my wife.”

Jinyoung scoffed. “You ditched my appointment once already. And now this? I can’t deal with you.”

He got up, nose flaring. “Fuck you. And your dumb cunt. You’re pathetic, running after a pussy who already got knocked up for fuck’s sake.”

Jinyoung’s head made contact with the glass tabletop, smashing it to bits, blood pooling on the sharp shards. The collision had a heavy impact, shattering everything and leaving only the steel frame intact.

“What the hell did you say, motherfucker?” Taehyung grabbed the man’s head by his hair, driving him into the steel frame. “How dare you insult my Y/N?” He kept banging the man’s head against the metal, not satisfied until he passed out and went limp.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

He spat on the unconscious figure, kicking his midriff with violent force. He was heaving with the exertion, sweat wetting his collar and trickling down his neck. His eyes landed on his phone and his face slowly lit up again.

You had called him and ordered him to get you the things you craved. You wanted him. You had thought of him. His smile radiated in his eyes, and his heart smiled too.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

It was the seventh month of your pregnancy. Fuck the calculation of weeks. It made you crazy if people asked in which week you were. The hormones were completely off balance. You snapped at anything and everything under the sun. Almond was the only living creature you didn’t snap at.

Taehyung received a fair dose of kicks and bites, mostly when he tried initiating kisses and make-out sessions. He couldn’t bear to have sex with you, not when your belly was swollen with Yoongi’s child. But he couldn’t stop himself from trying to kiss you.

He got angry when you pushed him away. He was scared that your baby was quickly becoming the center of your attention. It felt threatening that a weak bundle of muscle inside you was challenging his position in your life.

It was one similarly exasperating day when he saw you knitting a scarf, you had given up on a sweater because it was too puzzling, and Almond was lying contentedly at your feet. He sneaked behind the couch, trying to put his hand around your neck so he could kiss you. But a harsh jab of the knitting needle poked his ribs, leaving him gasping in pain.

“Y/N, what the hell?” He clutched his chest in agony.

“Keep your hands to yourself, you bastard.” You spat at him in anger, already irritated by your hot flashes and frequent need to pee.

Almond whined at the sudden raise in voices, and you instinctively bent to soothe him, rubbing his nose.

Watching the fucking dog getting better treatment than him led Taehyung to fly off his handle. Mouth curling, he grabbed Almond by the collar, dragging him out of the room. You shouted at him to stop, swearing angrily, but he pushed you away. He was muttering at the dog in anger as he pulled and tugged, slamming the door shut on him.

You could hear the whines and soft scratching of paws against the door.

“What the hell are you doing, Taehyung?” Your voice was a scream.

“Showing you who is in charge.” He ground his teeth, anger lending a murderous flash to his visage.

He pushed you carelessly, sending you flying to land on the couch. The sudden push made your head throb.

Unbuckling his belt, he pulled it free from the loops, throwing it away, the metal buckle hitting the floor with a clang.

Your voice caught, and you half choked out: “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Reaching his hand out, he pulled the straps of your dress down, exposing your breasts to him. Pregnancy had led to swollen breasts, so you were usually braless.

The only good side of the pregnancy, to him, was that your breasts had become bigger and hence he had more soft flesh to rub his face into.

He didn’t lay a finger on you. His attention was focused on your breasts, and he took his already hard member out, stroking himself. The pre-cum glided on his thick shaft, generously coating him and making lewd noises.

“Eyes on me,” he breathed, seeing you attempt to close them.

“You are a shitbag, Taehyung.” Anger made your face feel feverishly hot.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Y/N Kim.”

You flinched at the surname, and his devilish smile flashed at you.

“You’re a Kim, my Y/N Kim. Remember that, sweetie.”

He stroked himself, an intent gaze fixating on your breasts, watching the way they heaved with each breath. The sight made him go wild, and he stroked harder, hand working in a frenzy. Before he knew it, he was panting your name out, taking strangled breaths and shooting his cum on your breasts. He licked his lips as he witnessed his essence dripping in globs onto the cloth bunched over your belly.

He was shaking, and he squatted down, his breaths labored and heavy.

Almond whined again, and he snapped his head towards the door, shouting in rage:

“SHUT UP!”

He turned back to face you, a blissed out look on his face. An adoring smile stretched his lips wide.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Almond was banished from the house. He was put in a kennel outside, and he wasn’t allowed to go near the main house unless the master desired. You weren’t allowed near him either.

“Why are you doing this?” you had asked, and he had shrugged simply.

“Nothing is more important to you than me. Remember that Y/N. It’s a lesson.”

He dropped his gaze to your bump, and grinned when you put your hands on your belly protectively.

“Cute. But you can’t protect your baby unless you listen to me.”

“Why are you this way, Taehyung? Haven’t you tormented me enough?”

His heart felt stabbed. He had done everything for you. Everything he had done was out of love. Why couldn’t you understand? You were so ready to give your whole heart on a platter to that fucker Yoongi. But why weren’t you throwing even one morsel of love his way?

You put your hands on your hips.

“If you love me as you say, let me go. Let me live my life.”

He was looking down.

“Taehyung?” You sighed in pain. “Do you really love me?”

He looked up directly into your eyes.

“Do you?”

You stood motionless, the heavy silence smothering him.

“Yeah. I thought so.”

He scoffed and got up. You had to learn to love him. It would take time. But he would wait. He almost turned, but stopped when he remembered something.

“I want you to embroider my initials in my pocket squares. They’re all on the dresser. The maid will bring the needles and thread.”

He advanced towards you with a disarming smile.

“Remember, it’s KTH. I’ll let you take Almond on a walk after you finish doing it, my dearest.”

He pecked your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll see you in the evening, love.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was in hot water. You were dangling his pocket square in your left hand, holding his tie with the right.

“What is this stain, bitch?” you growled, leering at him.

The lipstick stain was bright red, the lip prints visible clearly on the white fabric, right above the embroidered KTH. You had found it on him as soon as he walked in.

He had been taken aback when you had jumped on him, pulling his tie in anger.

“You fucking kill my husband, lock me up in this goddamn house and go get a whore’s lips on you? Who do you think you are?”

His face was ghastly, shocked at the accusation. He didn’t know how the lipstick stain had got on the fabric. He always wore suits, and he always wore his pocket squares to show off the beautiful KTH embroidered by your pretty fingers.

What angered him more than your being mad at him was the fact that someone had ruined his precious monogrammed pocket square. He had no idea how it had happened.

“Is this a trick, you sick fuck?” you spat, “Did you make me embroider that just to insult me like this?”

“Y/N, no, I would never,” his tone was panicked. “I have no idea, I swear. I don’t know how it got on me.”

Your bitter stare sliced through his heart. Who had played such a sick prank on him? Who had the fucking nerve to? He couldn’t think of anyone other than you having the balls to mess with him. Balls. He scoffed. More like boobs. And a fucking baby.

You let go of his tie with a spiteful tug.

“Bitch. You are a bitch, Kim Taehyung.”

He controlled his urge to slap you. He had refrained from hitting you as much as he could. But your favorite swear word was making his blood boil. You kept calling him a bitch. Maybe he was, but you were the real bitch. The bitch who just wouldn’t let him love you.

“Wash the stain yourself. Don’t touch me, I loathe you.”

You were about to move when he tugged on your elbow.

“Don’t be a bitch, Y/N. I won’t cheat on you. You are my wife.”

“Yeah. And the mistress of this fucking house. Watch me, I’ll come with a man’s cum on my kerchief one day, and-“

The slap was incredibly harsh, leaving a hot red print of his entire hand on your cheek. Your hand flew to cup your smarting cheek, but he slapped again, and again. The force made your head lurch left and right. The tears washed down your cheeks, staining them and burning the sore skin.

His hand found the nape of your neck, cradling it. His blank manic eyes stared deep into yours.

“I will snap you in two if I smell another man on you.”

The tone was cold as ice, making your gut churn. He stared for a long time, unblinking and stern. Finally, as if he were out of a trance, he let go of your neck and pushed you away with unnecessary force.

You didn’t say a word, moving away from him with flaming hot cheeks.

He didn’t argue when you slept on the couch that night. But when you woke up at midnight to pee, you saw him lying on the floor, just adjacent to the couch, fast asleep.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung brought his work home in the last trimester of your pregnancy. He wanted to be near you, soothing you and making sure you were alright. Besides, he found that he was having zero productivity at his office while you were at home. He didn’t want one of his guards helping you up the stairs or fetching you hot chocolate. It had to be him.

He would be dictating to his secretary in his study and you would shout out to him.

“Grapefruit. I fucking want grapefruit.” If he didn’t respond, you would punctuate with a “Can you hear me, asshole?”

He learned to get on his feet as soon you called. It was amusing to watch his secretary squirm in her seat when he got shouted at. He didn’t really feel ashamed. Rather, he felt happy that you wanted him.

It was hard to watch you struggle at night. He couldn’t sleep, not when he knew you were wide awake. Even if you did doze off, you would awaken screaming, drenched in sweat. He would ball his fists; hands itching to cuddle you and provide comfort. But he suspected he was probably the reason for your nightmares in the first place.

So, night after night, you both lay awake in your beds, pretending to sleep, trying to fool each other. He would assist you to get up and turn to lie on your side. But the rest of the time, the bedroom was filled with heavy sighs and muffled sobs.

Na Yeon once tried commenting on his dark puffy eyebags.

“Mr. Kim, your eyes-“

“Huh? What about them?”

She shuffled her feet nervously.

“You don’t seem to be sleeping enough.”

Just then, you yelled out:

“Kim Taehyung, black currant ice cream.”

He bolted out the door, returning only after a good thirty minutes. When he came back, Na Yeon risked another comment.

“Sir, she is being really… “

Taehyung had looked at her sternly, cutting her short.

“Say a word against my wife and I’ll fucking fire your ass.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

It was a fine spring day. Taehyung had made sure to check on you before making his way to the study. You had looked ripe. He was sure it was coming soon. The half bastard – half angel was coming soon.

He was talking about a drug deal with another drug lord. The door was closed because the man had demanded it.

Na Yeon was outside, waiting for the meeting to end. She rummaged in her bag to find something. Her hand made contact with the slender wire of her earphones. She started blasting a song, turning the volume up and pressing the buds hard into her ears.

The phone in the study rang, and Taehyung picked it up whilst he was still talking to the man, not noticing the caller ID.

“Taeh-I-I aarghh” The line disconnected.

In a second, he was on his feet, running to the bedroom and throwing the door open. You were lying on the floor, unconscious and out cold. The phone had dropped and switched off on impact with the floor.

“God, Y/N!” he dialed emergency, simultaneously checking your pulse. It felt very weak. “Stay, stay, stay with me,” he muttered, ears ringing in anxiety.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

A couple hours later, he was prancing outside the ER, unable to breathe. He didn’t care about the baby. He really didn’t. But you had looked shockingly ill. Your lips had been blue. Dangerously low blood pressure, the nurse had said. He swore he wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to you.

“Mrs. Kim’s attendant?” The nurse called out, peeking her head out.

“Yeah?” His voice came out dry and raspy. “I’m her… husband.”

“We’re taking her to the labor room, she’s stable and prepped.”

He wiped the sweat off his forehead in relief. He felt like he had just run a marathon. Taking deep breaths, he went off to go wash his face and join you in the labor room.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Ah, shit shit,” he was cursing, the hard squeeze almost breaking his palm. “It’s okay baby, you’re doing great.”

The contractions were fucking painful, and you took great joy in squeezing his hand to death. You were 10 already centimeters dilated, so what was keeping the baby so long?

Taehyung was going crazy by your side, and it didn’t help that at every painful contraction, he screamed at the doctor:

“Get it out, get it the fuck out!”

The pushing started, and you squeezed even harder, inflicting as much pain on him as you could. He took it like a champ, though he swore till his mouth was dry.

“I can see the head, Mrs. Kim! Great job, keep pushing!” the doctor’s voice sounded from between your legs.

“Just a bit more, just a bit more, honey,” he cooed, biting his lips to contain his cussing. He was sure you had broken a few bones in his hand.

With one blood curling scream, you gave one final push, and the room was filled with a hearty cry of an infant.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Kim, it’s a beautiful baby girl.”

The doctor held up the beautiful bundle you and Yoongi had lovingly created, and tears wouldn’t stop trickling down your cheeks at the thought of him missing his daughter’s birth.

“Mr. Kim, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?”

Taehyung went to the foot of the bed. The man who had ruined the father of the baby you had just birthed. His hands were shaking when he snipped the cord. A killer, witnessing the miracle of life. Fucking ironic.

He had the skin-to-skin, as you watched bleary eyed. It was so unfair. Yoongi was supposed to be holding your baby. He was supposed to be crying tears of joy. He was supposed to have the first skin-to-skin

After being cleaned, she was given to you, and the brilliant black eyes made you gasp in happiness. They were exactly Yoongi’s shining ones.

“Do we have a name yet?” the midwife asked mildly, smiling at you.

Taehyung clenched his teeth. It had been the deal, after all. You did get to name the baby if you took his name.

Looking out the window, you smiled at the blue sky. You had chosen the name with great care.

“Ha Neul.” You looked down at the mini Yoongi in your arms. “Min Ha Neul.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Sure, it was a fact that babies needed to be near their mother and stuff, but Taehyung was quickly losing all his patience. Considering your health, the doctor had advised you to stay back for a couple days to monitor the hypotension. And to Taehyung’s annoyance, almost ninety percent of your time was dedicated to rocking, crooning, and- he shuddered- breastfeeding the little tyke.

He hated it when you nursed the baby. It took all his self-control to prevent plucking the little bastard from your arms and throwing her away. You had seen his face a few times, and you had ordered him to get out whenever Ha Neul needed feeding. It only served to make him resent the child more.

He had asked his secretary to send news of the baby being born to the circle. He didn’t want to, but some traditions were traditions, and he couldn’t change them.

A steady stream of visitors came and left, bringing the little one a lot of gifts and clothes. To them, the child was a descendant of the Min family. And that in itself warranted their inclusion in the celebrations of her birth.

Namjoon’s father had called him.

“Joonah, Y/N has given birth to a daughter.”

There were mixed feelings crashing inside Namjoon’s heart when he heard the news. When he didn’t reply, his father pressed.

“Your mother and I have already seen her. She’s just like Min Yoongi.” There was a pause. “You go too, son.”

It was a very confused Namjoon who arrived at the hospital, carrying flowers and a Penguin plushie. He was an uncle. His best friend’s daughter had been born. He remembered how Yoongi had smiled his gummy smile, confiding in him that he wanted his first born to be a daughter. Namjoon’s small fond smile evaporated. Because Yoongi had wanted a mini version of you. You, the bitch who married fucking Kim Taehyung as soon as Yoongi died.

Part of him believed that the child wasn’t Yoongi’s. He told himself that you had probably been screwing Taehyung behind Yoongi’s back, and the girl was possibly Taehyung’s.

You had just burped Ha Neul and laid her down, when Taehyung was hot on your tail.

“You don’t remember Almond, do you?” he hissed.

You turned incredulously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

His lips trembled as he shot a murderous look at your daughter.

“Do you want her to be locked away like he is?”

You leered at him. “The fuck do you want? Don’t you dare threaten me.”

He scoffed in derision. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck off, Taehyung.”

He reached his hand down to the giggling infant. “Well, in that case…”

You threw a punch at his ribs, screaming at him. “Fuck you, bitch.”

He smiled. “So that’s a yes?”

Namjoon raised his hand to knock at the already open door, stopping when he saw Taehyung lean down to kiss you. He gritted his teeth when he saw you kissing him back.

“My tongue, lick my tongue,” Taehyung moaned, and Namjoon’s face crumpled in disgust when you complied. Bitch.

He rapped on the door loudly, making you jump and withdraw back to the propped cushions. Clearing his throat, he spoke tonelessly:

“I- uh, I came to see the baby.”

Taehyung and Namjoon exchanged murderous stares, and your husband stepped away to let the man see the baby.

Namjoon’s doubts vanished as soon as he saw the lovely eyes of your daughter. Just like Min. The little lips were like orange pulp, delicate and soft. He placed his gifts on the bedside table and bent down, crooning at her.

“Hey, little Min, it’s uncle Kim!”

He didn’t bother looking at you, throwing the question at no one in particular.

“Her name?”

You whispered softly, chest puffing up with pride.

“Min Ha Neul.”

He nodded, smiling down at the child, touching her nose gently. If only his best friend had lived to see his fine daughter.

When Namjoon left, he was not sure if he simply disliked you or abhorred you. True, the baby had been Min’s, but he had witnessed you kissing the slimy Kim bastard as if you were eating his face. He called his father after he reached his apartment.

“I saw her, dad, she’s exactly like Yoongi.” His tone changed. “You don’t have to worry about Y/N being unsafe, she is in fact very comfortable with Kim.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Your days were spent changing poop diapers and chasing after your daughter when she crawled near guards with guns. Having the baby and raising her all alone, with zero help from Taehyung, was hard. He was a diva, he wouldn’t even go near a soiled diaper, let alone touch it.

“You made her, you take care of her,” was always the reply when you demanded him to pitch in.

One day though, you had left her in the nursery and gone to take a shower. The water was running, muffling all the sounds from outside your room. You were halfway through your shower, shower gel suds all over your palms and shampoo dripping down your eyebrows, when a piercing squeal almost stopped your heart.

There were a few more squeals, and then Ha Neul’s bawls filled the whole mansion. Wrapping a towel around your soapy body, you dashed out towards the nursery. The cries were still loud, and you tumbled at full speed in her direction.

The door was open, and when you slid to a halt before her crib, Taehyung was there, holding her with a disgusted expression.

“Little piece of-“ he was muttering, shaking her like a ragdoll. When he saw you, he stuffed her into your arms, crinkling his nose up.

“Ger it to stop! Get it to stop! God, I’m going crazy!”

You shushed her, letting her nestle into the safety of your arms.

“What were you doing to her?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He scowled at you, showcasing his arms.

“That dratted bastard- shat all over my hands. Ugh.” He shuddered. “Where the fuck were you? I tried to change her but she wouldn’t fucking shut up.”

A smile threatened to pry your lips open.

He ground his teeth, glaring at the now-calm baby.

“Fucking screams like a hyena,” he said, turning away and stomping off to wash his hands.

When you returned to the bathroom to finish your shower, he was holding the bottle of shampoo, reading the label.

“Funny,” he said, glancing at you as you entered the bathroom. “This label doesn’t mention any fragrance.”

“Huh?”

He squeezed a dollop of shampoo onto his palm and sniffed at it. “I was right, it has no scent.”

“Get out, Kim Taehyung. I need to shower.”

He grabbed the towel and pulled you closer, turning the shower on. The water ran down your damp hair, letting all the bubbles wash away. The wet towel dropped to the floor, bunching around your feet. His hands were all over your shoulders and back, gently kneading your muscles.

You tried to rebel, but his grasp just grew tighter. Deciding to get it over with, you let him caress you. Much to his joy, he pulled you closer and kissed you sweetly. Usually he was aggressive and went for your tongue. But this time it was soft and almost romantic.

He moaned softly into your mouth, cupping the supple flesh of your butt as he thrust his lower body against yours. His eyes were closed when he broke the kiss and roamed down to your neck. There was a sharp prick on the side of your neck, and it vanished just as suddenly when he bent to suckle on the mark.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured, kissing the hickey fervently. “You make me go wild.”

He grabbed your wet locks, sniffing at them like he always did. When he opened his eyes, he was smiling, realization dawning on him.

“It’s not the shampoo. It’s you. You smell like berries.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“It’s time, Se Jong,” the caller said, breathing into the phone conspiratorially. “Her car just zoomed past mine.”

Se Jong drew a deep breath. It had been goddamn hard to get you alone in the car. You only came out of the Kim mansion rarely, and usually a guard accompanied you if you took Ha Neul with you. Taehyung was wary and paranoid that you would try and run away with your daughter.

Se Jong couldn’t risk being identified by any guard. It had taken a whole damn year for him to plan your accident.

Things had started to turn bright for him when the guard stopped accompanying you when you went out without Ha Neul. The chauffeur might recognize him, but he was willing to take that risk. If any of Taehyung’s guards even heard a whisper of what he was about to do, he’d be skinned alive. He was sure of that. Those men were fiercely loyal to their boss. Se Jong scoffed. Dogs. He would become the next mafia lord and they would all come running to worship his feet.

He started the ignition, carefully glancing at the road, waiting for the sleek black car to appear. He had tried to get a hitman, but the wimp had backed out as soon as he had started saying “Kim…” So, he had no choice but to get his hands dirty.

The afternoon rain had left the roads slippery, and it was a stroke of luck on Se Jong’s side when your car came careening around the corner a bit faster than needed. He released the hand brake, hurtling forward at full speed and crashing right in the middle of your vehicle.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

The air was filled with smoke, and you couldn’t see properly. The impact had been sudden, and the chauffeur had been knocked out. Coughing and trying to clear your burning throat, you reached out to open the door when it swung wide open. A man’s pants and belt were visible, but it was all so blurred that you couldn’t make out who it was.

His hand reached in, clamping tightly around your eyes as the other arm worked on pulling you out of the car.

“What?” you started to ask before your mouth was covered with the grime-covered hand.

“Shut up,” the man hissed in your ear, pressing your back against his chest as he pulled you to your feet. “Don’t make any noise.”

He was hugging you from behind, one hand covering your mouth and the other pressed against your eyes. He slowly inched you forward, telling you to move one step at a time.

The smell of burnt tires filled your nostrils, and you staggered forward blindly, trying your best to lean away from the man’s chest. The distant sound of a car grew closer and closer, and just as he tried to make you crouch down, you elbowed him sharply.

He cursed in pain, grabbing you by the hair and trying to push you into his car. You attempted to veer around, and a heavy strike sent your head crashing against the doorframe. Your vision blurred, and everything seemed to grow dark.

“Hey!”

A man was calling from somewhere to your left, but you couldn’t focus.

“Hey! Let the lady go!”

The voice was louder now, and you blinked in confusion. Crinkling your eyes in desperate concentration, you tried to see who your assailant was. But just as you turned to face him, a sickening punch hit you like a gunshot, throwing your head back and causing you to tumble. The last sound you heard before your head hit the gravel was the hasty squeal of tires racing away from the scene.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The lights were making your head pound. There were so many people bustling around, but it all seemed to be happening in slow motion. The voices were too hard to comprehend. But you could feel that something was definitely different with your head. There were thick bandages wrapped heavily around your head, feeling like a big boulder was tying you down.

People came in and shone lights into your eyes, telling you instructions in voices so muffled that you couldn’t understand what was being asked of you.

He wasn’t there. You knew that much at least. It was more by instinct that you knew that.

Your body hadn’t tensed up into a tight coil the entire time you were conscious. Maybe you could slip out of the room unnoticed when you felt better. But the pounding in your head was too much to risk an attempt anytime soon.

It was only on the next day that your hearing got clearer. The clogged sensation slowly alleviated, and you could hear the doctors discussing your charts with their colleagues. You wondered if you could try and make a run for it.

You were debating internally as to what should be done. Just as your toe touched the cold hospital marble, the door opened, and your daughter ran in. She made straight for your arms, jumping into the bed, and clasping her little hands around your waist.

“Mmommieeth!”

“Oh! My baby Min!”

Hugging her in joy, you exclaimed at the shiny truck she had dropped in her haste to run to you.

“Oh, what a gorgeous truck!”

She giggled innocently, bunching your gown tightly in her little fingers.

“Daddath,” she lisped happily, and your breath stopped for a second. Slipping in through the doorway was the embodiment of all your worst feelings in the world.

He casually waltzed in, taking note of your foot resting on the floor. He raised one eyebrow cockily.

“Going somewhere?”

He was holding a slew of wrapped lollipops in his hand, as if it were the most common thing in the world for him to carry candy around.

You refused to answer, choosing to settle back into the bed instead. So much for planning to run away.

He sauntered nearer, placing the lollipops down on the bedside tray and reaching a hand out to touch your forehead.

His fingers made slight contact with the bandages, and he sighed heavily.

“Oh, sweet baby wife,” he murmured, his deep baritone voice sending unexpected thrills up your spine. “I shouldn’t let you out of my sight anymore.”

God, was he going to ban you from leaving the house?

“It was an accident…” you whined, hoping that he wouldn’t press the issue any further.

“Lollipop!” your daughter interrupted, thrusting the candy into Taehyung’s big hand. He silently unwrapped it, handing it to her before turning to face you. He moved over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Y/N,” his tone was serious, “you had surgery. You were out cold for a whole day. You can’t imagine how much I was-“ He bit his lip, and you squinted hard to see if it was a tear shining under his lids.

“I had surgery? What- how? He hit me that hard?”

Taehyung’s jaw tightened in silent fury.

“About that, yeah,” he said, gently pressing your hand. “Who was that? Did you see that son of a bitch?”

You could see his nostrils flaring. It was quite a sight, your daughter cheerfully savoring a candy while Taehyung seethed in stony anger near her, clearly fighting his urge to throw and break things.

“I’ll get that fucking son of a bitch, I will,” he muttered, making you scowl.

“Don’t swear before my daughter,” you snapped, and he nodded absently. When he looked back at you, his eyes were loaded with concern.

The pads of his fingers traced your forehead softly.

“A subdural bleed-“ he was talking to himself at that point, “- how much it would have hurt…” His lips trembled. In anger or in concern you weren’t sure.

The moment was broken when a doctor came in, requesting Taehyung to stay outside for a few minutes while she inspected your bandages.

She smiled at your daughter, pinching her cheek gently. Ha Neul popped the lollipop out just long enough to say “Docthor Mogo.”

The doctor chuckled and nodded. “Hi Mrs. Kim. I’m Dr. Montgomery, I’ll just need to take your vitals and ask you a few questions.”

You smiled at her, throwing the question at her. “Mogo?”

She laughed. “It’s easier to pronounce. You have a very intelligent child.”

You beamed in pride. “Yes, she is. Wait, how does she know you?”

The doctor paused in surprise. “Oh? Mr. Kim- he was here the whole time ever since you got admitted. He simply refused to leave your side. When you went in for surgery, he went home and fetched little Kim too. He hasn’t slept for two days, he’s such a devoted father.”

You looked down at the angelic little girl on your bed. “Little Min,” you said slowly. “She’s little Min.” The doctor didn’t say anything and chose to scribble your vitals down on the chart instead. She turned to leave, but you caught hold of her arm.

“He took care of Ha Neul? He had her the entire time?”

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. I need to jog your memory a bit, can you answer a few questions?”

“What? Yeah okay.”

“Let’s see. What’s in this picture?”

You stared at the flash card dumbly. Was she kidding?

“An umbrella.”

“Good. Can you spell that for me?”

The curiousness got the better of you.

“Why are you asking all this?”

She gazed at you, turning to look at the frosted glass windows. Taehyung’s mop of long hair was barely discernible, he seemed to be talking to another doctor.

“Mrs. Kim, there were complications during the surgery. You have a risk of developing seizures. We are closely monitoring you.”

You had no suitable reply. It was too much to digest.

“Now, Mrs. Kim, can you spell ‘Umbrella’ for me?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Previously, 3 hours after the accident

“Mr. Kim?”

Taehyung leaped out of the sofa, rushing to the surgeon. Wo Bin followed him with equal haste. The surgeon was in his scrubs, he had come out to give an update.

“Mr. Kim, I understand this is a very tough time for you-“

Taehyung was shaking all over. He had been unable to breath properly ever since he you had been wheeled into the OR. God, the blood. His precious little bird all cut up, bleeding and bruised.

“Is she- is she-“ he couldn’t form the words, too scared to ask.

“She’s still in surgery, but she’s stable for now Mr. Kim. That’s why I came out. I need to let you know that there was an unexpected complication…”

“What? What happened?”

Taehyung plunged forward urgently, and Wo Bin had to use his full strength to keep his boss from pouncing on the reedy doctor.

“There’s seizure activity in her brain, which might exacerbate post-surgery-“ the doctor said, his eyes round and wary.

“Treat it then,” Taehyung hollered in his deepest growl. “Isn’t that what you do for a living?”

The man in scrubs seemed to grow perplexed.

“You see Mr. Kim, we might have to remove a portion of her temporal lobe to treat it.” He paused awkwardly. “It might lead to significant memory loss. Statistically speaking, around 70% of the patients…”

“No.”

Taehyung cut the doctor midsentence. ��No. I won’t consent to it.”

“But Mr. Kim, it is…”

There was a deep sigh. One that Wo Bin was accustomed to fear. He glanced at his boss in alarm.

“I. Said. No.”

The doctor made as if to open his mouth to protest, but Wo Bin shook his head at him. Taehyung fell silent and Wo Bin took charge.

“You will not perform that procedure on Mrs. Kim,” he said, folding his arms. “Isn’t there any other method you could try?”

The doctor explained that the risk of seizures would be dramatically reduced, and that the patient’s quality of life would be so much better if her husband consented to the suggested surgery.

“I will take care of her if she seizes,” Taehyung said sullenly. He was looking down at his shoes, refusing to look at the doctor. “She’s my wife. I will tend to her.”

The surgeon talked to Wo Bin for a couple more minutes and went back into the OR. After the door closed behind him, Wo Bin rounded on his boss, unusually angry.

“Why did you refuse to consent, boss? Don’t you understand? She’ll forget stuff! She might forget Min entirely. Why would you pass up on a chance like that, sir?”

Taehyung collapsed onto the sofa, putting his head in his hands.

“I can’t do that Wo Bin-ah.”

Wo Bin looked down at the bent man in confusion.

“Why not? It’s a second chance. I don’t get it-“

Taehyung had gone completely silent. There were faint sounds of sniffing. When he lifted his head to look up at his aide, tears were ready to spill down his cheeks.

“Don’t you see? She’ll forget Min. She’ll lose whatever little memories she has of him. I can’t do that to her. I have already taken too much from her. I can’t rob her of her memories too.”

He paused to take another sniff. “I don’t want her to be a clean slate. Because her memories and battles make up the woman I love today. I just want her to forget him and learn to love me.”

Wo Bin knew he had crossed the line even before the words left his lips.

“With all due respect, sir, this might be the worst mistake of your life.”

Taehyung stared at him with a defeated smile.

“Then I shall live to regret it.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You seized only twice after the surgery, and Taehyung was there both times. He had made you lie on your side and had held you until they passed.

When you were discharged, he brought home flash cards to keep working your brain. He was ruthless and adamant, and just wouldn’t leave you alone until you finished all the cards successfully.

It was raining one night, and he had been in a particularly long meeting with his mafia men. He kept screaming at Wo Bin to drive faster, he knew you would have skipped dinner and tucked yourself into bed. He never worried about Ha Neul. That tyke was well cared for anyway. It was you who kept him worried.

“Y/N?” He shrugged his coat off, not bothering to hang it on the rack. “Y/N?”

He was right. You were curled in a ball, pretending to be fast asleep so he wouldn’t bother you.

The bed dipped, and his warm breath tickled your skin. He simply rested his head in the crook of your neck, supporting his entire weight on one arm so you wouldn’t be crushed.

“Baby,” he whined, unusually softly. “Come eat.”

You lay completely still, hoping he would leave you alone. But he just didn’t budge.

“Y/N,” he whined again, twisting a strand of your hair around his finger. “I know you’re awake.”

Sigh. Of course, he did. What monstrosity was he planning to put you through? Shrugging him off your body and hoping it hadn’t pissed him off, you got to your feet. There was no point in stalling.

He was mysteriously in a good mood though. Reaching out to entwine his fingers in yours, he dragged you to the living room.

“You ordered Pad Thai?” you asked incredulously.

“Mmm hmm,” he nodded before plopping down on the couch. He proceeded to mindlessly unbutton his shirt and remove his cufflinks. He knew you liked Pad Thai, he had been on his toes all through your pregnancy, running to fetch it for you from the best fast food places in the city.

The muffled jangling of the cufflinks as they dropped down onto the carpet brought a fresh wave of dread crawling over your skin. You stood gaping at him, unsure of what he was up to.

He raised his head and stared at you quizzically. Three buttons of his shirt were open, revealing his sculpted chest perfectly. Propping his legs up on the coffee table, he reached over for the remote.

“Well, aren’t you gonna sit down?”

“I- yes. “

You glanced at him from under your eyelashes. He looked relaxed, there was no indication of anything horrible about to happen.

He casually handed over a food box to you, patting the couch to indicate that you should sit closer to him. When you pretended to not understand, he simply scooted you over even closer.

“There,” he said, sighing happily. “Let’s watch this movie, shall we?”

As if you had a choice.

You had expected the movie to be a typical action flick, filled with stupid car chases and shooting sequences. It was a complete surprise when you found out that it was a romantic film. Taehyung had picked a romantic film? What kind of sorcery was that? You had been sure that he only had an iron padlock for a heart.

The empty food boxes and chopsticks were scattered all over the carpet, and your eyes flickered over to see his reactions when the scenes were particularly unhappy. His face was like a canvas, and a myriad of emotions flashed on it with each scene.

It was almost like the usual Taehyung had vanished and another person had taken his place. The man sitting with his arm over your shoulders, the one who was stealthily sniffing away a few tears, was in no way the man you knew.

It felt natural to Taehyung when he pulled your body snug against his, cuddling into your neck comfortably. He didn’t understand why you were trying to squirm. He wound his arm around your waist, butting his head against yours.

The heavenly scent of berries made him heady with happiness. How perfectly lovely it was, to be able to cuddle and watch a movie with you. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

Taehyung was simmering away in euphoria, lost in his own happy world, while you were subtly squirming in his arms. The movie was going to end, what would happen next? Was he going to violate you? The seed of apprehension grew and grew with each passing moment.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice ever so soft. “What’s the matter? Need a bathroom break?”

His features showed confusion and apparent concern. At that moment, you wished he were his normal sneering self. This new side threatened you and kept you on edge. You knew how to tackle his mean and arrogant side. But you had no understanding or control over his new side. It was scaring you more than you had expected.

“No, I just-“ you couldn’t think of a coherent reply fast enough.

He cupped your face, bringing it closer to his. The final scene played on TV, with the leads kissing each other and then the credits started rolling. He smiled- but it was a very different smile. It wasn’t the leering one he flashed at you often. It was a genuine boxy smile, and it pulled the corners of his lips up naturally.

“Perfect timing,” he crooned, gently pressing a kiss on your lips. It felt extraordinary, and you didn’t know how to respond. An inner voice screamed in your head, shouting that he was going to violate you after all.

So, it was yet another surprise when he pulled away after the kiss, letting his fingers brush your hair into place.

“Let’s go to bed, hm? It’s late.”

He undressed and changed into his pajamas, completely oblivious to the mental rollercoaster you were experiencing. When he turned the lights off and climbed into bed, he stayed on his side of the bed without attempting to trespass into yours.

He patiently waited for your lids to close, and when he was sure that you were asleep, he whispered: “I love you.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Several weeks after, the traces of brain injury completely vanished, leaving you behind with nothing but a scar on your forehead. That would take a good amount of time to vanish, you knew.

You were fit enough to take care of Ha Neul on your own, but Taehyung insisted on keeping the nanny.

“You might seize out of the blue, so I’m not leaving you alone without someone.”

And that was it. He rarely let you argue. It wasn’t like he cut you off deliberately. It was just the tone of his voice that sounded finality before you could think of a retort.

Taehyung had to go and check on a deal in Berlin, but he hated being away from you. Sure, it was just a 3-day trip, but it was a full 72 hours of not seeing you or touching you. He was annoyed when your eyes brightened on hearing the news.

He stood and sulked as he watched you bustle around Ha Neul, trying to get her to stop spitting out her breakfast.

“Someone really is happy that I’m leaving, huh?”

You let your lips stretch in a semi-smile. You enjoyed the little moments when you could spite him and smugly smile without being reprimanded. He might punish you later, yes, but you would deal with that when it came.

Oh, how he wanted to slap that smirk off your face! But he couldn’t. No, he would spend the next three days immersed in guilt if he did. You wouldn’t be near for him to kiss and make up. He was at a loss to find a way to break you.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he glared at Ha Neul, irritated that she was taking so much to time to swallow the damned food. Just like Min, getting in other people’s ways and eating their time.

“Be ready at 7 tonight. We’re going out for dinner.”

He turned to leave after announcing it, but your scoff stopped him.

“We? Who’s we?”

He shrugged. “You and me.”

The arch of your eyebrows wasn’t lost on him.

“Look, you can have all the time with your bastard for the next 3 days. Leave her with the nanny tonight.”

And there it was. That tone again. The tone that simply blocked out further arguments.

You had an ominous feeling that he was warming up to you being his wife, salty or otherwise. Movie and dinner? This wasn’t the Taehyung you knew. He surprised you occasionally with cheesy romantic shit, but he was usually hard and cold. He took what he wanted, claimed you if he needed to, bought you stuff that you threw out without even glancing at them, but he hadn’t ever tried to engage in romance.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Why the hell are you fiddling so much with that?”

Conjuring up your harshest scowl, you snapped back at him. “It’s fucking riding up my ass, that’s why.”

He bit his inner cheek to stifle a chuckle. You looked devilishly cute when you were angry.

“Just fucking let me dress myself, you bitch.”

He hummed, one hand on the steering wheel and the other reaching out to squeeze your thigh.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. We both know you’ll wear a dowdy sweatshirt and torn jeans if I let you dress yourself.”

You decided to emphasize your annoyance by going silent and staring out of the window. Taehyung always chose what you wore. Even at the mansion, when you went nowhere, you had to wear pretty dresses and skirts during the day. You had rebelled at first, but he had simply ripped a good number of tees and shorts that you eventually gave up and aligned to his will.

He had picked a luxurious wine-red dress, he had fallen in love with how beautifully it accentuated your body. It screamed elegance, and you carried it so well even though you swore like a sailor the entire time.

When the maître d’ left after seating you in Taehyung’s chosen table, you pursed your lips at the uncomfortable sensation again. Taehyung noticed it, and something snapped in him.

“Damnit Y/N, can you just wipe the scorn off your face for one fucking minute?” he hissed, his feathers thoroughly ruffled.

“You wear a thong that keeps riding up your butt then,” you sneered back.

Shocked surprise lit up his features, and he burst out laughing. He took your hand and patted it affectionately. His smile was innocent and sickly sweet when he murmured discreetly:

“I’ll rip it off as soon as I can, I promise.”

He talked and talked, telling you stuff he had heard from the elite circle. It was unusual of him to chatter and gossip away, but the change was so different. You ate in silence, listening to him and occasionally nodding your head.

You wished you could prolong the ride back somehow. He had dolled you up for a reason. And it was obvious what he was going to do.

Taehyung was losing patience, watching you slide the panna cotta all around the plate in a lame attempt to buy time.

“You do know I can bend you over this table right now, don’t you sugar?”

He bit his lower lip cockily, staring you down. When you didn’t answer, he simply stood up and reached your side, placing his hands on your hips.

“Don’t!” you whispered urgently, alarmed that he actually proceeded to pull you up to your feet in full view of the entire restaurant.

“Well, let’s go home then,” he crooned into your ear.

“All right, all right, you made your point.”

Taehyung grinned like an imp throughout the car ride back to the mansion, gleefully thinking of ripping off the offending thong. He hadn’t meant for you to be uncomfortable in it. But he wasn’t complaining because he now had a chance to right something for you. Even if it was so trivial as tearing off a thong.

He pounced on you like a starved animal as soon as the door closed. His lips were everywhere, licking and sucking marks into your skin.

“Ha Neul- I need to check on her-“ you moaned, unable to remain passive in the face of the sensual attack.

“No…” he groaned, fingers feverishly roaming on your skin, trying to breathe before he crumbled to dust. “She’s asleep… the nanny-“ he dropped a wet kiss on your collarbone before panting out “- texted me. She’s fine.”

His slender finger reached for the zipper, pulling it down in apparent haste. He loved the way the fabric pooled around your hips, leaving your chest open for him. You had worn a plain bra just to spite him. But to him, simple garment looked infinitely sexier than the choicest lace.

Tugging the dress down, he lifted you and practically threw you on the bed, discarding his coat and shoes urgently.

“Oh, God, Y/N!” he whined, flipping you over and watching the thong in fascination. “So pretty. So incredibly pretty, laid out just for me.”

His big veiny hands caught hold of your wrists, lending you helpless. His brain was short circuiting at the delicious sight before him. Engulfing your tiny wrists in one hand, he reached down to knead the soft flesh with the other. One finger slipped under the elastic band and pulled, snapping the flimsy fabric with ease.

“There, baby” he cooed, his hand cupping your ass. “It can’t disturb you anymore.”

You moaned something into the pillow, but the sound was too garbled to comprehend. Turning you over, he shifted his position, so he was hovering just inches over your body.

“Just let me take care of you,” he breathed, nudging his knee into the crook of your knees. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

You parted your lips to protest, but he drowned out the words with a searing kiss. His hand still had control over your wrists, and he slowly moved down to your navel.

His tongue drew hot lines down your belly, inching tantalizingly closer to your core. Using his free hand, he parted your legs, exposing your swollen core to his depraved eyes.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he said, licking his lips sinfully.

But when he bent down for a taste, you kneed him hard, making him hiss in pain.

“The fuck!” he yelled, clutching his precious nose. He tilted his head up, praying that it didn’t bleed. Goddamn, his wife really was a fighter.

“I don’t know why-“ he leaned over and rummaged through the drawers of his bedside table, “-you keep making this so hard.” He produced a shiny pair of handcuffs, dangling them before your nose. “Now look what you got yourself into.”

“No, I…” you tried to shake your wrists free, eyes wide in alarm.

“Shh, baby. Don’t make me tape your mouth too.”

It was not the rickety sex toy version either. The handcuffs looked like standard issue police ones. Taehyung grinned at your shocked face.

“These,” he ran a finger over the cold metal “-these are from a policeman I shot in a drug bust.” The metal cuffs turned and glinted at you.

“He cuffed me to him, silly bloke. As if someone could cuff me.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I shot his hand to pieces. Served him right. And this- I kept this as a souvenir.” He smiled affectionately, the faint clink of the chain sending shivers up your gut.

He was in a strange temper, and you weren’t sure about escaping unscathed if you rebelled. So, you remained still while he clicked the cuff onto your wrist, securing it to the bedpost. He winked at you, proceeding to take off his shirt while you lay motionless under him.

He now had both hands free to work on you, and he set about parting your legs for him. Smirking coyly, he dipped his head down, pressing his tongue flat against your sensitive bud.

You threw your free hand at him, pulling on his long hair, but his grip around your thighs tightened in response. He didn’t even flinch when you yanked at his thick locks, focusing on leaving kitten licks on your clit.

He groaned into your core, pressing his face harder against your silky folds. The sensation of his quick tongue darting all over you left your knees trembling like jelly. You had a hard time containing your moans, determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan.

But it spurred him on harder, and his licks became raunchier. He felt your core pulsate, and he knew you were close. Opening your legs wide, he attached his lips to your bud, starting to suckle on it sensually.

“Mm hmm, yes… Cum on my tongue, baby,” he encouraged, nibbling on the swollen hood ever so lightly. He held your thighs tightly, peppering your core with soft kisses as you climaxed and shook like a leaf.

He lapped at your sweet essence, helping you ride through your high. His mouth was wet and shining when he rose up to meet your eyes.

“So fucking sweet, Y/N,” he said, flicking his tongue out and smacking his lips brazenly.

You expected him to unzip his pants and get it over with. But he surprised you yet again. Simply crawling back up, he buried his nose into your chest, not minding the way your nails clawed at him.

He inhaled your scent like he couldn’t get enough of it. He so badly wanted to bury himself inside your velvety walls. He craved being united with you as one body. But no, he would wait.

He would go to Berlin first and then come back to claim you heartily. Maybe being away from him would soften your heart. He couldn’t imagine staying even one night away from you. Would you begin to feel the same way? After all, patient men did get the ripest fruit.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung kept looking at his phone, not caring about the subtle looks thrown his way. His fingers kept drumming against the table, impatient and jittery. His index finger subconsciously went to the notification shade every two seconds, but there was just nothing there to see.

A new notification popped up just then, and his eyes lit up.

Wo Bin

9:28 am : Everything fine at mansion.

9:29 am: Se Jong becoming troublesome.

He swiped it away furiously. He couldn’t care less about some stupid banker acting up. He was sure Wo Bin could handle it. No, he was looking forward to something about you. Just a scrap of news about you. But Wo Bin had to go and text him some random shit like that. He sighed and turned back to the man who was talking.

“We need to be more vigilant; the police are sniffing us out somehow.”

Taehyung tried to focus, but his gaze fell on his phone again exactly three seconds later.

Two hours later, Taehyung was about to push the door and leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Kim?”

It was Andrei. He was one of Taehyung’s acquaintances in Berlin.

“Yeah.”

Andrei dropped his voice low. “Care to join me for a drink?”

The bar was weirdly empty, there weren’t a lot of people hanging around. Well, that happened when mafia lords booked the hotel by the dozen. They were a careful bunch; they always played their cards close to their chests. Outsiders were never trusted when one of their meetings was underway.

Andrei toyed with his shot glass, slurring his words slightly.

“So Kim Taehyung is a married man now, huh?” he asked, chuckling slightly.

Taehyung nodded, sipping his drink. A small part of his mind wondered if he should check his phone.

“How did you ever settle down?”

Andrei looked genuinely curious. He only knew of Taehyung’s philandering side. He had been surprised on learning about the wedding.

“She’s-“ Taehyung racked his brain for words “- exquisite. I just knew. That she was the one for me.”

Andrei raised his glass in agreement. “Good for you, man.” He considered for a moment, gazing at Taehyung before parting his lips again.

“If you want, I can send Victoria to keep you company. You know, tonight.”

The Taehyung of older days would have jumped at the suggestion, launching into an interested inquiry of what the woman could offer. But now, he only shook his head, gripping his glass tight.

“No, Andrei. I’m married.”

The man smiled slyly. “You absolutely sure? She’s damn hot.”

“I’m sure. I’m a changed man, Andrei.”

Andrei nodded, looking at Taehyung thoughtfully. “I can see that.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Yoongi was humming to himself, hammering away at his laptop. He usually didn’t carry his work home. But this one was important. He had to finish drafting the presentation he was going to make the next morning.

“Busy much?”

You were leaning against the doorframe, playing with the sash of your dressing gown.

He looked up and crinkled his nose cutely.

“Just a couple more hours, baby girl.”

Clicking your tongue in disapproval, you loosened the sash and let your dressing gown drop down your shoulders to the floor.

“Can’t wait that long,” you crooned, giving him your sexiest drawl. “Need you inside me. Now.”

His fingers stopped typing, and a slow smirk dawned on his lips. He was so damn handsome when he smirked like that.

He kept his eyes focused on the screen, uttering the words in a blunt tone: “Come and take what you want then.”

Giggling in excitement, you rushed over to him, throwing your legs over his lap to straddle him. He smelt so good, just like he always did. You knew his scent by heart. It was the faintest note of cologne, fresh and pleasant like morning dew. He could come back dripping with sweat after gym, but he would still smell heavenly. It was just- so Yoongi of him.

“You’re blocking my view, Mrs. Min,” he said, not caring to look at your eager face.

“Oh, I’ll be out of it in a second, Mr. Min,” you replied, licking the shell of his ear.

The smug devil didn’t bat an eyelid, concentrating on typing whatever was clearly more important than his hot wife eating his earlobes. You decided to accelerate things further.

Grinding against his crotch, you hooked your chin on his shoulder to keep out of his way. You could feel him stirring in his pants, and soon enough he was hard as nails. Allowing yourself a proud smile, you nibbled on his shoulder blade, making him moan despite his best efforts.

You were satisfied at his response. Besides, you were aching for him already. You got off his lap, sinking down to your knees. He still wasn’t looking at you. Well, he would soon.

Instead of taking him out, you chose to palm him through his night pants. The tent in his pants left your mouth watering in anticipation. You looked up; he was still typing. Time for drastic measures.

Leaning forward, you pressed your mouth against the hard muscle, the thin fabric dampening up with your saliva. The friction of the cloth was too much to bear, and he moaned out loud.

“Fuck, Y/N!”

He shut the laptop down with a snap, to hell with the presentation. Grabbing you by your hair, he pulled you in level with his crotch. You stared back at him, tracing your lips with your tongue. Damn you. Want flooded his veins, sending a searing sensation shooting through his length.

“Up,” he said, snapping his fingers at you.

You loved it when he was horny and pissed. It made for a deliciously passionate Yoongi. Hastening to stand up, you looked at him expectantly. He motioned towards his pants, his dominant streak glinting dangerously in his eyes.

“Get my dick out.” He bit his lip before adding: “And lose your bra.”

Without a word, you peeled his pants off, shaking in excitement. His thighs were strong and muscular, just as perfect as the rest of him. He waited until you freed your breasts and patted his lap.

“On my thigh, slut.”

You pouted in disappointment. He noticed that and laughed impishly.

“What? You don’t get to sit on my cock until I say so.” He narrowed his eyes at you, loving the lust shining raw on your features. “Serves you right for teasing me.”

“But Yoongiiiiiii….” you drawled, only to be silenced with a piercing glare.

“Ride my thigh, come on,” he said. “Let me see those tits bounce.”

Fuck, he was making you so wet. Climbing into his lap again, you grabbed his shoulder and steadied yourself. He hadn’t told you to get out of your undies yet. You knew the friction was going to make you go wild.

“Go on,” he said, settling back lazily against the headrest of his chair. You slowly started moving, gripping his shoulders tight. He didn’t make any move to touch or hold you. He simply watched your face in fascination, observing every fleeting emotion with pride.

You were inching closer to your orgasm, and he stilled your hips with a steel grip. Your protesting mewls were music to his ears. A long bony finger pushed your soaked undies away, and his firm hands pulled your hips onto his hard cock.

He slammed his hips up, and started thrusting into you in a punishing rhythm, eliciting fierce curses and strangled moans from deep inside your chest.

“Damn, that’s it baby, bounce on my cock,” he praised, growling in primal want.

You could have sworn you saw the bushes outside the window move. But when you looked down to tell Yoongi, the feral lust swimming in his eyes washed every thought off your mind. He really was fucking your brains out.

“What is it, baby girl?”

Your mind was in complete shambles, and you knew he loved it. Especially when you struggled for words while he had you impaled on his cock.

“I- spank me…”

He grinned, landing a soft slap on your butt cheek. “Use your words and ask me nicely.”

“Oh, damn you Yoongi,” you whined, throwing your head back and exposing your neck. “Spank me, please.”

“Now, that’s a good girl.”

Min Yoongi had the smallest and most delicate of hands. But that didn’t mean his slaps were any less harsh. He could give you a mean spank, leaving hot red prints all over your ass if he liked. And right now, he chose to use that to his full advantage.

He lifted his hand, licking his lips and preparing to rain a volley of slaps on your butt. Closing your eyes, you rutted against him, waiting to feel the first sting.

“Y/N!”

When you opened your eyes, Yoongi was staring at you blankly. His eyes were shining with unshed tears.

You cupped his cheeks, puzzled. “What’s it, honey?”

A set of big hands snaked around your waist. You looked at Yoongi in confusion.

“What-“ you started to say, and froze in horror as Yoongi’s face slowly faded away, wiping all your happiness away with it. Everything went suddenly dark, and an unbearable coldness settled in, smothering you.

“No!” You thrashed about violently, desperate to see Yoongi, desperate to touch him again.

“Shh, Y/N, it’s fine.” The voice hummed in your ear, pulling you towards something warm.

You opened your eyes and gazed directly into Kim Taehyung’s radiant eyes.

“It’s okay baby, I’m back.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Dawn was beginning to break, and Taehyung was severely jetlagged. He assumed you would go right back to sleep. But you remained wide awake, silent tears streaming down your cheeks.

His heart felt all mushy and happy. Had you missed him? Were you crying because your feelings were overwhelmed? Maybe you had felt relieved that he had woken you up from your nightmare in time.

“Bad dream, darling?” he asked, carding his fingers through your hair.

He wouldn’t leave you alone anymore, he would always be there to chase away your nightmares. He resolved to himself that he would protect you from anything, even your own mind.

You lay still, not bothering to respond.

The semi-darkness lent your face a mysterious look, and Taehyung wasn’t sure if the gleam in your eyes was anger or joy.

His unusual softness assured him that it was joy. He told himself that it would be confusing at first and you needed time to warm up to the idea of loving him.

Birds started chirping outside, sunrise was very near. He traced your cheek with his thumb, wanting to kiss you. When he pulled you closer, there was no resistance. Cheering up considerably, he brushed his lips against yours.

When you didn’t flinch, he deepened the kiss, softly moaning into your mouth. The smoldering hunger stirred deep in his belly, consuming him completely. He climbed on top of you ever so lightly, kissing your neck and leaving wet splotches all over your chest.

He had waited for so long, and the tension had built up into a crescendo. He was panting when he fished himself out of his trousers, one hand fiddling with your shorts. He shimmied down the fabric, clawing at it in haste.

The first rays of sunlight broke the darkness, lighting up the room with a rosy hue. He whimpered when the head of his member made contact with your entrance.

“I’m home,” he said, pushing himself inside in one long shove. He slowly started to rock his hips, he wanted to be slow and sensual for a change.

You closed your eyes, and everything came flooding back. It was like your lips had a mind of their own. Before you knew, you had moaned it out loud.

“Yoongi…”

Taehyung’s hips stilled, his hard member still buried inside you. It hurt him like a violent slap. Slipping out of your core, he could hardly contain his angry tears while he dressed himself back up. You had moaned… for Yoongi?

He wanted to leave without saying anything. But he stopped just near the door.

“Tell me just one thing- whenever we… had sex, did you….”

Your vacant eyes chilled his blood. You mumbled silently, almost like you were talking to yourself.

“I Imagined Yoongi…”

He stormed out of the room, rushing to the guest bedroom to unleash the sobs bubbling up his throat. Taehyung never knew that he could hate you. It surprised and upset him to know how much he despised you for insulting him like that. It left a bitter aftertaste in his tongue.

When Taehyung finally stopped sniffing, he made up his mind. You weren’t changing. He would be fighting a dead man for the rest of his life. If you couldn’t warm up to his romance, it was fine. He would just return to being a mean bastard you rebelled against. Being feared was better than being insulted and trampled upon.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung’s behavior went from romantic to mean and waxed meaner over the course of days. He ignored your presence completely, choosing to leave home at dawn and return at midnight just to avoid seeing you.

He broke things in sudden fits of temper, and every morning you woke up to more and more smashed vases and glass. You kept Ha Neul well out of his way, there was no telling what he might do if he got his hands on her.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was torn between his all-consuming obsession over you and the new-found disgust he had for you. It scared him when he realized how much it was affecting his mind. He had to choose a way to saddle his dark feelings and rein them in. Because, after all, you were his Y/N. His precious Y/N he would do anything for.

Almost a month after he returned from Berlin, almost a month after avoiding you like the plague, Kim Taehyung decided that enough was enough.

He returned home in the evening, slamming the door unnecessarily loud. That was a signal these days to announce his arrival and departure.

“Y/N!” The slight bitterness in his voice surprised him.

Ha Neul’s giggle sounded from somewhere deep in the nursery, and he followed the sound until he was standing before you.

You were kneeling on the floor, clutching onto your daughter fearfully. You didn’t care if he hurt you. Hell, you would even karate chop him right back. But you were nervous when he was around your child.

He glared at the toddler, throwing his most hostile look her way.

“Bedroom, now.”

You dragged yourself to the bedroom after handing Ha Neul over to the nanny. You had no clue what he was going to do to you. He had been like a zombie for the past month, slinking away into the shadows and disappearing all day. What was in store for you in the bedroom?

Taehyung was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for you. When you entered the room, he manspread his legs and snapped his fingers.

“On your knees,” he tapped on the floor with his shoe, “here.”

You hesitated, and his eyebrows knotted dangerously.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Swallowing your pride, you knelt before his spread legs, his crotch in full display right before your eyes.

He bunched your hair in his fist, pulling you towards him. He rubbed your face against his clothed crotch a little harsher than he had planned to.

“This cock-“ he said, pressing your face against him, “this cock is the only one you’ll get in this lifetime. Better get used to it.”

Yanking your hair, he tilted your head, so your eyes were staring into his.

“If you say his name again, I’ll break your daughter’s neck.”

He was pulling hard on your hair, and the roots were beginning to sting.

“Am I clear, bitch?”

You silently nodded, not trusting your voice enough. He let go of your hair with a mean tug, and you wobbled on your knees.

“Open your mouth.”

You were late in complying, earning a hard slap in reward. Your cheek felt burning hot. He ground his teeth and slapped the other cheek, releasing all the pent-up anger boiling in his chest. Grabbing you like a ragdoll, he gripped your jaw tight and puckered your lips open.

“You don’t deserve my cock,” he spat out, forcing two slender fingers into your mouth. “This is all you get until you earn it.”

He pumped the fingers in and out, setting a harsh rhythm. His fingers were long and slender, and it was a feat to accommodate them all the way up to the knuckles. He added a third finger, not slowing one bit when you whimpered in protest.

“Shut up and take it,” he growled, driving them deeper and deeper until you gagged and coughed around the digits.

He waited until you regained your breath. Then he removed his fingers, scooping up the drool running down your chin. He then dragged his fingers on your cheeks, painting them in drool.

Grabbing you by the neck, he leaned over to breathe in your face:

“You can hate me all you want, but I’m never letting you go. Imagine him all you want, but the dick fucking into you will always be mine.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The days rolled by quickly, and before you knew it, Ha Neul had turned 2 years old. She had started running and jumping, and she followed Taehyung around whenever he dressed up for work, hoping for a ride in his car.

It was a sunny April morning. You had asked your chauffeur to take you and Ha Neul shopping. She had to get vaccinated, and you had to pick some stuff from the store on the way back. The car was ready, and a guard quietly gave you the message.

Knocking on the bathroom door, you shouted to Taehyung.

“I need your credit card. I’m going out.”

The sound of the running shower immediately stopped. The door opened, and he leaned on the frame, his whole body on display.

“And where exactly is my baby girl going?”

Trying to forget the way his cock stood half-erect, you mumbled out: “Ha Neul’s vaccination.”

Taehyung didn’t let you have money of your own. He wanted you to be dependent on him. That way, you would always stay with him.

He had never forgiven you for moaning Yoongi’s name that one time. Whenever you wanted something, he made it a point to make you beg him. Usually, he made you suck him off, or ride him, just to go to the store or to grab cake for Ha Neul.

You weren’t allowed to ask the guards to get stuff for Ha Neul. They would simply nod their heads but not comply. Because they served Taehyung. And his orders took priority over yours.

“Just give me the card,” you huffed, annoyed at him.

He shook his hair like a puppy, sending water droplets flying all around, some landing on your face and clothes.

You took a step back, patting at the random drops spraying on you. “Ew. Cut it out, Taehyung.”

He grinned, grabbing you and grinding himself against you, wetting your clothes slightly. He was stark naked, in full contrast to your fully clothed body.

“Where’s the brat?” his tone was casual.

You bit back a curse word. “She has a name. Min Ha Neul is in the nursery.”

The annoyance on his face satisfied you to no end. “Why do you insist on calling her that every time?”

“Calling her what? Min Ha Neul? That’s her name.” You weren’t backing down in the slightest.

He leaned down to nip at your jaw. “Hmm. Very well, Y/N Kim.”

It was your turn to snap at him. “Stop calling me that.”

He smiled into your skin. Riling you up was so much fun.

“That’s your name, baby. To get the credit card, come soap me up and wash me.”

“Forget it, bitch,” you sneered, shaking him off.

“Not so fast, honey. Don’t you want her to get vaccinated?”

He thought you looked absolutely beautiful when you were angry. Oh, how he wanted to slam you against the door and fuck you into oblivion!

Not sparing a glance at him, you peeled your clothes off, stripping down to your underwear. He grinned.

“Might as well remove them, no?”

You wanted to slap the smile off his face.

“Fucking get back in the shower, Taehyung.”

He felt a sizzling electric jolt down his spine when you soaped him, lathering up and spreading the foam all over his chest. He was choking on his breath when he whined “My cock, ah Y/N, grab my cock.”

He shivered at the feeling of your warm hands slipping around his length. The feeling was delicious, making him roll his closed eyes under his lids. He enjoyed your little fingers caressing his skin, and when you knelt to soap his legs, he went wild.

The shower washed off the lather, leaving him sparkling clean. Before you had a chance to get up, he dug his hard dick into your face. Your head was caught between the wall and his strong thighs, and you were left with no other choice.

“Shit, suck me, go on, suck me with that hot little mouth.”

He slapped his dick against your cheek, ruining the makeup and leaving a mixture of water and pre-cum glistening on your skin.

“Go on, baby, I’m oh so clean. Suck my cock.”

He popped your mouth open, sliding himself in and hissing at the sensation.

“Like my cock, baby? Nibble along the shaft, yes,” he panted, looking down at you, face contorting in pleasure. “Like having my fat cock inside your mouth?”

You replied something, probably a curse, but it came out muffled around his cock. The vibration made him lose himself, thrusting deeper and deeper against your throat.

“Ah, swallow me, yes, fucking swallow my dick, Y/N.”

He bottomed out against your mouth, the prickly hair on his balls making the tip of your nose itch. His fingers felt around your throat, trying to feel himself through the skin of your neck.

“Swallow, baby,” he cooed, and you gagged a little, trying to swallow around him. His fingers felt the bulge in your throat, and his dick pulsed at the heady sensation, making him cum hard into your mouth. You almost choked on the cum, your throat feeling raw and sore.

He picked you up on your feet, muttering praises and kissing whichever part of skin he could find. Wiping your mouth, you stared at the floor and asked, “Can I get the card now?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Baby,” he called, calling your attention to him as you tried to sneak past the living room. “Forgot something?”

You took a deep breath, giving up. There was no point in sneaking around him. The guy seemed to smell your presence.

“I’m going to tuck Ha Neul in,” you replied, not quite looking at him. “She fell asleep on the way back.”

He turned his gaze from his laptop, nodding absently. “Come back in five. And don’t forget.”

You went away, preoccupied with thinking of the man who had followed you around in the store. He had worn a mask, covering his lower face, and had been hot on your tail until you had reached your car. He had looked like he had something to say to you. But as soon as he had laid eyes on the car, he had disappeared. Who could it have been? You had no idea.

When you returned after getting your daughter to bed, he was waiting for you. He extended his hand, and you slipped the papers into it.

Taehyung always wanted the complete receipts and details of what you had bought, where you had gone and whom you had met whenever you went out. It was mostly to make sure you weren’t planning an escape or meeting some other guy.

His quickly scanned through the receipts, suddenly pausing, and looking at you ominously.

“Tampons, honey?”

His tone was controlled, but chilling, nonetheless. You had deliberately bought a lot of useless items to cover the fucking tampons.

“Yes. What about them?”

He sighed, skimming through the rest of the items on the bill.

“Y/N, it’s been two years.” He sighed again. “You know we want a baby.”

You recoiled, you had suspected he would say that, but to hear that out loud terrified you.

“Well, I don’t.”

He didn’t answer. He knew you would of course reject him. But it had already been two fucking years. He had tolerated that little tyke Min had sired just because he loved you. But however much he thought about it, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Ha Neul was more important to you.

He had sent Almond away; the dog was under Wo Bin’s care. But he couldn’t separate Ha Neul from you. He burned with jealousy whenever you kissed her or ruffled her hair. The dratted child had inherited her father’s gummy smile, much to Taehyung’s annoyance.

He wanted to feel closer to you, he needed to make you love him. Seeing you showering your love on the fruit of another man’s seed was humiliating to say the very least. He would give you a child, making you tend to his baby, effectively pulling you closer to him.

He wasn’t sure he liked babies. He hated smelly diapers and wet beds. But he would have to bear those if he wanted you to carry his child.

“Y/N, it’s time we started a family. You know it.”

You felt like screaming and breaking things.

“What part of ‘I hate you’ do you not get?”

He stood up, asserting his dominance by rising to his full height.

“I let you have that bastard’s child, I let her eat and sleep under my roof, I let her fucking have her damned surname,” he said, inching closer and closer, “And this is how you repay me?”

You perked up your chest, standing upright and biting the words out: “I don’t owe you anything. You ruined my life.”

He scoffed, a spray of spit landing on your face. “Don’t you dare talk back to me. You’ll only make things worse for you.”

“Oh? And how, exactly?”

He flushed in anger, looking out the window. It had started drizzling. Making up his mind, he stormed out of the room. You weren’t sure if you should follow. A few seconds later, you heard your daughter wail.

“Ha Neul?” You rushed to the nursery but stopped midway when you saw Taehyung carrying her down the stairs.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you screamed, following him in hot pursuit. He was quicker than you, and just as your feet touched the landing, he slammed the door on your daughter, letting her stand outside in the rain.

“What the hell, Taehyung? Open the door!”

You saw him turn the key in the lock, and he grinned sneakily as he dropped the key into his pants. Throwing yourself at him and pummeling at his chest, you sobbed at him to open the door.

“Please,” you begged, seeing through the window that the rain had started falling in torrents. “Please let her in.”

“I think not,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning his back against the door.

“What do you want? Please, anything…”

He cocked his eyebrows.

“Anything?” When you nodded, he thrust his hips out, still leaning. “Fish the key out of my pants.”

You dropped to your knees in haste, unzipping him and searching for the key. Your fingers brushed against hot muscle instead, and he lazily drawled above you:

“Kiss the tip and tell me you love me.”

Furious tears pricked your eyes, and you swallowed the bitter taste at the back of your throat. Taking his dick out, you kissed the angry red tip, muttering a weak “I love you.”

“Say, I love you Taehyungie.”

You couldn’t wait to grab your cold wet child shivering outside. Kissing the tip again, you looked up at him and bit the words out.

“I love you, Taehyungie.”

He grinned and let you take the key. He was already uncomfortable by sensation of the cold metal rubbing against his hot dick.

You hit him across the jaw, punching with all your might. He responded by shifting his position to let you put the key in the lock.

Before you turned it though, he grabbed you by the hips, his fingers searching under your dress for the crotch of your undies. Ripping it easily, he slammed himself inside you. You turned the lock. But you couldn’t open the door, not with him buried inside you.

“Let me get her first,” you whimpered, struggling to get away.

“Take me, baby,” he said, pushing himself deeper. “Make me cum and you can get her.”

Blowing out your cheeks, you clenched your pelvic muscle tight around him, repeating it mindlessly until he was a gasping mess.

“Oh, oh yes,” he whined, driving harder and harder, finally cumming hard. He slid himself out, letting go of your hips.

“Go get her. She’ll catch a cold, sweetie.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Mrs. Kim?”

The voice of your chauffeur cut through your thoughts, catching your attention.

“Your pills, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Seung Jo,” you breathed. Taehyung never would know how you got your birth control pills. You were so grateful that Seung Jo was loyal to you. You had no idea why, but he was very friendly, he seemed to understand that you were living the life of a caged bird.

He had been smuggling you the pills for a long time, and no one had ever found out. Taehyung had been vocal about you not getting pregnant however much he tried. He didn’t let you get up after sex, rather he made you lie down and tuck your legs. He carefully calculated your ovulation dates. But nothing came of his efforts. Except monthly bills that included tampons, of course.

“Seung Jo, can you do me a favor?”

He looked at your image in the rearview mirror. “Anything, ma’am.”

“I- can you check on Mrs. Min at the Klammer Institute on my behalf?”

He nodded silently. “Anything else, ma’am?”

You looked down at your shoes, chewing out the question. “Why are you not more like Taehyung’s men? What makes you keep secrets for me?”

He smiled and shrugged lightly. “I like you.”

The signal turned green and you lurched forward a bit. “Excuse me?”

He repeated patiently. “I said, I like you.”

“Are you aware that Taehyung would blow your brains out if he heard about this?”

Seung Jo glided the car to a stop. “You hadn’t any idea that I liked you all this time?”

You fell silent. There was no way to know if he was being serious. Maybe it was a trap Taehyung had set. You had to be cautious.

“Well, Mrs. Kim? Tongue-tied?”

“Get the car moving, Seung Jo,” was the only thing you could reply.

Just before the car nosed into the mansion, he whispered in a low voice:

“I think I love you.”

You stared at his reflection, dumbfound. He continued.

“I’ve known you for more than two years, do you think I can’t see how unhappy you are?”

“Seung Jo,” you said, warningly.

“Just think about it,” he said, turning the ignition off. He got out of the car and held the door open for you, meeting your eyes for a brief moment, the look laden with meaning.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Mommy?” Ha Neul called, her cute lips curving around the words. She was very smart, and had started talking in long meaningful sentences.

“Yes, honey?”

She tugged at her pigtails, forming the sentence in her head.

“Why- my name is Min? Father’s name and yours are Kim?” The lilt of the second question suggested innocent curiosity.

Taehyung lowered the newspaper, glaring at the back of her head. You smiled, gathering her up and sitting her down on your lap.

“Because, sweetie, mommy was married to Min Yoongi, your daddy.”

Her sweet voice took on a confused tone. “What happened to daddy?”

You sent a scorching glare to Taehyung before replying, “He died, baby. A bad man killed him.”

Taehyung threw his paper down. “Is this necessary? Should she know the details?”

“She deserves to know the truth,” you snapped.

The child looked at you, not understanding the banter. “Bad man?”

You nodded sadly. She asked again, crooning: “Daddy was a good man?”

A smile dawned on your lips, and you replied earnestly, “He was the best man in the world, sweetheart.”

She went silent, her little brain working to grasp the information. Taehyung’s eyes shot daggers at you, which you steadily ignored.

“Mommy,” she said again, “Can I call father daddy?”

You looked up at the man in question. His face registered surprise. He hadn’t quite expected that.

He cleared his throat and replied gruffly, “You can call me that, Ha Neul.”

The brightness of her gummy smile melted your heart. God, she was just like Yoongi. So adorable.

“Daddy,” she said, feeling the word rolling off her tongue. She ran towards Taehyung, innocently clinging to his forearm.

“Daddy, when can I go to school?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up. He addressed you, asking, “Didn’t we decide to homeschool her?”

Ha Neul spoke up for herself, waving her hands. “Daddy, Mr. Soh says school is wonderful! Pencils, paper, desks,” she started counting them off on her little fingers.

“Alright, honey,” you said, attempting to steer the conversation towards calmer topics. “Daddy and mommy will think about it.”

Mr. Soh was Ha Neul’s homeschool teacher, he came by thrice a week. He had probably planted the idea of school in her mind.

After Ha Neul got bored and ran off to play ball, Taehyung hissed at you angrily.

“I’m not letting you or her out of this house.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The sound of the waves crashing filled your ears, salt heavy in the air and reminding you of the terrible day you had spent dangling on a suspension bridge.

“Mrs. Kim?” You turned. “Thanks for meeting me.”

You were silent, the blank look on your face replaced with shock when he removed the mask and took off his shades.

“Bong Ju?” you gasped, a wave of fear jolting your heart. “What do you want?”

He took a hesitant step forward; palms open to show he meant no harm.

“I have to give you something, I tried hard to meet you, but it was almost impossible.”

You watched in fear as he dipped his hand inside his coat pocket, your breath relaxing when he pulled out a sealed envelope.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, Mrs. Kim, I have betrayed you so much. But this,” he extended the envelope to you, “this belongs to you.”

“What is it?” you whispered, scared to touch it.

“Mr. Min, he gave it to me for safekeeping. He-“ the man gulped, “-he wanted you to have it in case he was gone before you.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

“Why did you wait so long then? You fucking betrayed him and me. Why should I believe you?”

He nodded, guilt weighing his features down.

“I had to do it, Mrs. K- Mrs. Min, I was blackmailed to do it. Kim Taehyung threatened to kill my sister and her family if I didn’t help him.”

Tears streamed down his face. “I took the money and fled, but my sister- she died in a plane crash. Her whole family.” A loud sob interrupted his flow. “I think it’s karma, I deserved it for betraying you. I am really very sorry, Mrs. Min.”

“But you- you were the prime witness…”

“Witness? What witness? What are you talking about?”

You shrank back in alarm.

“You don’t know about the inquest? Weren’t you the state’s prime witness?”

He tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. An inquest, you say?”

Cold dread filled the crevices of your heart, rising up steadily, threatening to crush your ribs.

“But- I thought… How did you know where I was?”

His features were still confused when he answered:

“Kang Minsook, a lawyer called me a few weeks ago.”

Your mouth widened. “Where were you three years ago? How do you know Minsook?”

He shrugged, wide eyed.

“I fled to the Bahamas after you ran to rescue Mr. Min. I didn’t know he was dead until Mr. Kang called recently. I flew back and saw you had married Taehyung. I thought you didn’t require to read the letter, but…” his voice trailed off. “…But I asked around and heard a lot about what had happened. Mr. Min made me swear I would deliver it to you.”

“Didn’t Minsook tell you about the case?”

“I don’t know of any case. He only asked if I used to work for Mr. Min and whether I knew he was dead.”

The whole earth stopped spinning. There had been no prime witness! Bong Ju hadn’t even known about the case. Minsook hadn’t discovered about Bong Ju at all. You swallowed the truth. It dawned on you that Minsook never mentioned a witness in court, only Taehyung and your attorney had hinted that Bong Ju was the prosecution’s witness. Taehyung had well and truly played you.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Fragments of Yoongi’s letter kept returning to haunt you. It had been five pages long. You knew he had poured his heart into it, there was such emotion in the words. According to the date, it had been written on the day of your first wedding anniversary.

His words filled the deep void left by his sudden departure, at least to a certain extent. The papers had creases in them, caused by your repeated folding and unfolding over the course of weeks. You kept re-reading it whenever you had the chance, just to hold on to the ghost of his memory a little longer. Dear, wonderful, passionate, loving Yoongi.

“Y/N?” the arms gently shook your shoulders, breaking the spell.

“Huh?”

“I said, I love you.” He leaned into you, his concerned look searching your face. “You okay?”

“I-“ You looked at Seung Jo’s chocolate brown eyes. “I don’t know.”

He let go of you, leaning against the car. “What do you mean?”

“Seung Jo.” You took a whiff of the salty air. “I have a 3-year-old daughter. My husband is a businessman with roots in the mafia. He would kill us if he knew.”

He scoffed, taking your hand, and pressing it lightly.

“Y/N, remember, I love you and your daughter. I am not afraid of Taehyung. I can make you happy. Just say yes and I’ll take you away.”

It did sound alluring. But you didn’t love him back. He seemed sweet and genuine, but that was it. You looked at the brown wisps of hair dancing on his forehead. He was young, the honey toned skin was taut over his prominent veins. He was cute, yes. Did you love him? No.

Yoongi’s letter fluttered back to your mind.

I have kept aside 5 million dollars for us, Y/N. We can use it for our baby, we can add to it every year. I will be so proud on the day our baby is born. I am sure our firstborn would be a girl, just as beautiful and wonderful as her mom. I can’t wait to see you glowing with our child, I can’t wait to hold her tiny fingers in mine.

You stifled a sob. The pain was still fresh. You would never believe that three years had gone already. His letter ended with a note, saying that if he ever died, you were supposed to use the money in case it wasn’t withdrawn already. He had written that he would add a million dollars for every anniversary he celebrated with you. The account details had been written in his neat handwriting.

If I go before you, Y/N, even if I’m 60 and you’re 59, if we haven’t already used up the money, take it. Live happily. I want only the best for you, my love.

It made you guilty that you were even thinking of eloping with Seung Jo. You didn’t love him. But he was your entry pass to the outside world. Maybe, just maybe, after you got out of Taehyung’s clutches, you could explain it all to Seung Jo and part ways. But you knew you needed Seung Jo’s help to get out. You wouldn’t tell him about Yoongi’s secret trust fund, you weren’t sure about revealing that.

Your resolve crumbled, and you caved, asking for more time. He drove you back home, dropping you off dutifully.

When you entered the house, Taehyung was coming out of the basement, unaware of your figure standing on the hearthrug. His torso was naked, save for the chain around his neck. He was holding the key looped in the chain in his hand as he ascended the steps, not seeing you in the least.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Wo Bin sought a meeting with Taehyung, giving him the security update for the week.

“Mr. Kim,” he started cautiously, looking at his boss in wary apprehension.

“Yes?”

“It’s Se Jong again, he has been a sore pain in the ass for months, boss.”

Taehyung blew out his cheeks and sighed.

“I know, Bin-ah, but his brother was very loyal to me. He took a bullet and died for me. And Se Jong is helpful with the money matters.”

Wo Bin hesitated. “Yes, about that…”

“What is it?”

“Mrs. Kim was seen at the bank yesterday. She was enquiring about a withdrawal. Se Jong brought it to our notice.”

Taehyung sat up in concern. It was unusual of you to go to any bank. You only had credit cards which he gave after you satisfied his quirks. What was the need for going to the bank? He knew that more details were yet to come, else his man would have already told them without being prompted to.

“Keep an eye on her banking interests, tell Se Jong to be alert.”

Wo Bin nodded, readying himself to speak again.

“Also,” he drawled, waiting until he had his boss’s attention. “Our man at the docks informed that Bong Ju was seen in the city. We don’t have the details of where he went or who he met yet.”

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, a faint worry nagging him. Bong Ju had been told to stay put in the Bahamas if he wanted his sister’s family to stay alive. It was a breach on his part to flout the order. Why had he come? Did it have anything to do with you?

“Keep asking around. I need to know if he crossed paths with my wife.”

He decided to leave early and be near you for the rest of the afternoon.

On his way out, Taehyung absently walked by the aisle of cubicles, thinking about your new interest in finance. What were you up to? His guards always gave him clean reports of your whereabouts, it didn’t seem like you had found a new guy.

As he passed a cubicle, a pair of sultry eyes looked up at him. He froze spontaneously. Stepping towards the eyes led his gaze to a prominent cleavage, a beauty mark right at the middle of it. His mind raced to the masquerade ball, the night when the mysterious masked woman kissed him.

“You.”

She got up, eyeing him steadily. She never broke eye contact as she traced her vixen steps, affirming his suspicion. She flicked her hand at him, dipping it into his breast pocket and pulling out the pocket square. She was still gazing at him when she pressed it against her lips, winked coyly, and tucked it back in its place with a smoot pat.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Where’s Taehyung?” You inquired casually, careful not to look too interested.

“He is at the cottage, Mrs. Kim.”

Cottage. Basement. Yoongi.

The word opened a dam of traumatic memories. “Oh, yes, I see.”

Your hands were shaking nervously when you returned to the bedroom. So, he was away. He’d probably be late. It gave you ample time to rummage around for passports. Ha Neul had her own passport too, he had taken you and Ha Neul to Paris on a vacation. The passports had to be somewhere, right in his closet.

There was a vault with an electronic keypad. You hoped that the passports were in there. But what was the combination? You tried everything you could think of. Birthdays, birth years, anniversaries, but no luck. It just stubbornly flashed a red light and vibrated.

What was it?

Your fingers punched the numbers in, doubt weighing heavily on your mind. Could it… be the day Yoongi died?

The vault clicked open.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

Taehyung was seated on a chair, his legs crossed. The woman was kneeling, held in place by two guards. The musky smell of the room brought back memories of the night he killed Min Yoongi. He was not in the glass room, but the basement was the same anyway. The faded light flickered outside the door. It was fucking cold. Well, basements did get damn cold in the winter.

“It was you.”

She smiled, licking her crimson lips, her lipstick and sharp canines lending a fiendish aura to her. Like a vampire.

“It was always me, Kim,” she cooed, the smile turning sinister. “Took you long enough.”

He tilted his head, creasing his forehead.

“What do you mean?”

She smiled again, the genial expression morphing instantly into a dangerous sneer as she ground her teeth.

“You don’t remember me, Kim. But I do. You thought I was an easy fuck. You kicked me out on the streets even before your cum dried.” She glared at him. “I was not and am not a fucking whore, Kim Taehyung. I’m the heiress of the damned Song Shipping Line,” she spat.

“Song? But that is owned by Song Joong-“

“That’s my cousin. I had more pressing matters to deal with.” She smirked and raised her brows. “Because, Kim, you cannot just fuck me and throw me out.”

The pleasant beam was back on her face. “I let my cousin run the company and came after you. I changed my name, solely to crush your heart under my heels.” The smile took on a shy turn. “But what can I say, I’ve fallen for you.”

He looked at her as if she were out of her mind.

“You? Have fallen for me?”

Even the guards holding her looked at each other in confusion.

She laughed, letting her head roll back. “What?” Her eyes were streaming with mirth. “You can’t believe that?”

He didn’t respond, suspicious that she was playing him. Who on Earth actually fell for him? She must be crazy. But Song? Was she Song Jun Hyi? He didn’t even remember meeting her. When he found his voice, it came out croaked.

“Why- why would you leave everything and become a secretary? Why?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why? Don’t you understand? You of all people should get me. It’s simple, Kim.” She pouted her plush lips. “I’m in love with you.”

He darted out of his chair. “What are you, crazy?”

“Uh huh.” She winked at him, drawing her words out. “Crazy about you.”

Taehyung looked at the guards, and they dropped her hands, leaving the room immediately. But she remained kneeling. Taehyung sat down again, leaning against the backrest, and establishing the power dynamic.

“I don’t believe you.”

She scoffed. “What should I say to make you believe me?” She smiled her crooked smile. “Should I say how your wife is sneaking behind your back?” The smile deepened. “Should I say she’s hiding secrets from you?”

He gripped the armrests tight. No, his Y/N would never. This woman knew nothing about you. She was a crazy bitch who had no idea how pure you were.

“Well?” she teased. “Wanna know, baby boy?”

He pressed his lips together, fighting the urge to slap her silly. The sound of her voice was grating on his nerves.

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

She gave him her best puppy eyed smile. “Aw, look at you, so pretty when angry.”

“I would never love you back,” he snapped.

“But that didn’t stop you from grabbing Y/N, did it?”

He bounded forward, catching her throat in a strangle-hold.

“Don’t fuck with me, Na Yeon.”

His hand was gripping her like a vice. The bob of her throat was evident as she choked out “I’m not. It’s the truth.”

His mean streak got the better of him. “Oh, yeah?” His fingers tightened. “Tell me my wife’s secrets so I can spit on your face and say that I already know them.”

Even though death was beckoning, she remained stoic, looking at him steadily. “I will. But kiss me first.”

He knew an obstinate bitch when he saw one. Dipping his head down, he ghosted his breath just down her nose.

“Tell me and I’ll give it to you. If you really deserve it.”

Her tongue flicked out and traced his lip. “Okay, tiger.” She pushed herself a bit and butted his nose.

“Hmm, how do I put it eloquently, honey boy? You aren’t going to have a baby anytime soon.”

His glare burned into her face. “I’m not impot-“

She rubbed his nose with hers. “Shh, I know, tiger boy. You’re well equipped to make a lot of cubs inside me, I’m sure.”

He remained silent, not liking how she knew about his weakness for nose rubs.

“Tell me, bitch.” His nostrils flared in anger at being called a boy.

“You’re staying at the winter villa, right?” She licked his lips again, causing him to recoil. “Well, my source tells me that she hides pretty little things in a shoebox. Third closet from the left. An old shoebox, baby boy. Go look.”

He smiled mockingly at her. Did the bitch think he would believe her?

“You’re pathetic.”

She grinned again. “Aren’t you, too?”

He rose from his crouch, ears pink. Walking rapidly to the door, he looked back at her one hard time, biting out the words:

“We’ll see what’s in the closet. I’ll fucking snap your neck if you’re lying,” before slamming the door behind him.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

So Na Yeon or Song Jun Hyi to be precise, looked up with hysterical joy when he returned. She saw the tousled hair, deathly pallor and the unsteady gait of a man defeated. The strange mix of anger and disappointment plastered on his face told her all she wanted to know.

“You saw it, didn’t you?”

Taehyung couldn’t believe that his Y/N had betrayed him right under his nose. What hurt him more was that you had kept a lot more stuff inside that box.

He didn’t know how you had gotten your hands on them, but there were suit buttons, bits of paper with Yoongi’s handwriting, cuff links, tie pins, movie ticket stubs, and a lot of odds and ends crammed into it. Beneath the box of souvenirs, the yellow pill bottle was tucked safely, full of birth control pills.

He had gone feral, throwing everything out of the closet and fucking losing himself. He had almost hit you, but he had exacted revenge another way.

He looked at the woman squatting on the floor. Her ass was probably freezing on the cold hard floor. But her face had all the warmth in the world as she gazed at him.

He couldn’t control the anger coursing through his body. His eyes were burning.

“How did you know about it?” He hated the defeated tone of his voice. He hated losing. Ever.

“I think I’ve earned my kiss now,” she replied, pouting her lips up at him expectantly.

His glare was sharp enough to cut diamonds. “I only ever kiss my wife.”

“Come on, tiger boy, you made a deal.” Her whine was bratty, yes, but he knew she wasn’t as weak or harmless as she looked. She had no business inside his wife’s closet, yet she knew where exactly you kept your secrets.

His heart weighed down with guilt as he extended his hand to her, pulling her up so she wouldn’t fucking lose her butt to the bitter cold. Once up, she slithered her body against him, humming in content. He let his hands hang limply at his sides, not even attempting to hold her.

She didn’t seem to mind. Pushing him to make him sit on the lone chair, she straddled him, not paying attention to his limp hands. She moaned in luJst, purring like a cat as she hungrily licked strokes on his Adams apple. Her tongue found its way to his lips, kissing the corners teasingly.

Bunching his hair in her fists, she kissed him with such intensity that a subconscious moan escaped the depths of his throat. Her tongue fought his own for dominance, and he couldn’t help but give up. She was a fricking wildcat. But it was when her hand slid to cup his crotch that he drew the line.

“I only agreed to a kiss. Get off me.”

Her glance was mocking. “Seriously, you don’t want it? You don’t want to be loved back? I’m offering you my whole heart on a platter, and you still want her?”

He didn’t respond, the words cutting him harder than the sharpest blades. She traced her finger down his chest. “I’ve got everything, baby, I am a fucking heiress. She’s got nothing.”

He pushed her off, the malice back in full spirit. His voice was laced with hatred when he hissed at her:

“She is everything.” No one could match up to you. Your half-hearted kisses, sloppy blowjobs, angry punches, they all made more sense than the fiery kiss he had just received. No, he loved you. The whole you.

Na Yeon hugged her knees, smiling up in that annoying manner. “You’re a business man, Kim. How about we talk a deal?”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──

“I’d rather sit on your lap if you don’t mind,” she said, eyeing the chair that had been brought into the room for her. God, she was driving him insane.

“I do fucking mind.”

She pursed her lips, settling into the chair with an air of defeat. He cut to the chase immediately.

“What is your deal?”

She regarded him with blank honesty. “Let’s have a bet, actually. It’s better that way.”

“Spit it out.”

“Let’s see, you killed Y/N’s husband just to get her. Right?” The innocent question had a sinister hook lurking underneath, which Taehyung immediately caught.

“What about it?”

“Well, in that case, if killing an obstacle is right to get to the person you love, doesn’t that law apply to me too?”

He had expected that hook. He understood how her mind worked because she was exactly at his mental place. Obsessed with a person who just didn’t return the feeling. He realized that she was very much like him.

“Do you expect an answer?” He sounded calm and relaxed.

“No, I know you know what I’m talking about, Kim.” She cracked her neck, sighing a little. “I will kill her if that means I can get you.”

“So, what is your deal?” He fought to keep the condescension out of his tone.

She grinned. “My businessman,” she purred. “I try and kill her. You try and stop it. Just leave the odds to the stars.”

“Why would I agree to such a stupid deal?”

“Because, Kim, the clock has already started ticking for your Y/N. I’m only offering you a chance to save her before I kill her.”

“If I win?” He smirked with confidence.

“You get your way with me. Kill me, lock me up, whatever you want.” Her casual words did send a jolt up his spine. “But, if I win,”

“What if you win?”

“I get you.”

She winked and laughed before adding, “And she dies.”

He didn’t bat an eyelid. “Deal.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The deal was that Na Yeon would try and kill you within a month, and he would have to prevent it from happening. The nuances were:

Na Yeon wasn’t allowed anywhere near you. She had bragged about already having set a plan in motion. So, she had only that plan to rely on. She was fired from Taehyung’s office with immediate effect.

Taehyung wasn’t allowed to tap into Na Yeon’s phone calls or personal correspondence. He wasn’t allowed to involve any other person into the deal. His attempts to save you were to be his alone. No cops, guards, or any backup for him either.

When Taehyung returned home, his ears were already buzzing. He had almost drowned your daughter, trying to teach you a lesson. He went in search of you, finding you curled into a ball by your daughter’s bed.

“She got a fever?” he enquired, attempting to balm your pain.

You flew at him like a lioness, punching him in the chest, pushing him out of the room.

“What the fuck? ‘She got a fever?’ Is that all you got, you cruel piece of crap?”

He let himself get pummeled; he did deserve it. He had jeopardized the only string that was tying you to him. He shifted his gaze down, looking at your pants when he saw something that caught his attention. Dog hair. Almond.

He caught your fists, shushing you as he did so. “What’s that? Almond’s fur?”

You froze briefly, collecting yourself just as quickly. “Yeah. What about it?”

He tsked. “I don’t remember giving you permission to walk him. Or go near him.”

Holding your head, you shook in anger, hissing “I don’t want your permission to fucking breathe. I’m done.”

He was tempted to say that he knew. He knew you were upto something behind his back. The words almost slipped his lips. But he had to play it out. He had to win you. It was almost objectification, trying to win you. But Na Yeon had placed him in that uncomfortable fix. If he justified killing Yoongi as an excuse to scout your love, Na Yeon did have the right to employ the same tactic. It was only fair.

“I know you’re upset, Y/N. I…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, “… I am sorry.”

You were taken aback. You had thought that apologies never existed in his world. To hear it for the first time, the sound of it felt so unfamiliar.

“I- need to be alone.”

He nodded and withdrew silently, leaving you to your own. Almond. He had to know how you had gotten near him. Also, he had to find out about the shoebox. Was it one of the guards? He became paranoid. Was one of him own men cheating on him with you? Was that why he only got squeaky clean reports of you all the time?

He trusted his guys with his life. No, there had to be something else he was missing. It didn’t make sense, especially when you vehemently hated the guys and their guns. You never allowed them anywhere near your daughter.

Who had clearance to talk to you, to pass you pills? Who did you meet that no other guard got suspicious of? Who was in the circle approved to be in contact with you? Who was the invisible person hiding in plain sight?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Seung Jo had packed all his stuff and sent them ahead to Malta. He only had to pick up a couple of things. Oh, and the tickets. He smiled at the couple of tickets he had tucked inside his diary. He was going to Malta with the love of his life. It felt too good to be true.

Na Yeon’s steady paychecks, coupled with Taehyung’s had given him a lot of money to enjoy a life of luxury over there. His phone vibrated, interfering in his pleasant daydreams of lazing on hammocks and sipping beer.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Has anyone begun to suspect you?”

“No, everything is fine.”

“And Y/N? You’re positive about her?”

“Oh yes. We’ll continue as planned.”

“Good. Six more days.”

The caller hung up. He lay back down on his bed, thinking if he should get married in Malta, or wait to get to an even better destination.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

There was a knock on the door, waking up Seung Jo. His blurred vision made out 3:18 am on the digital clock. The knock grew louder, and he swore under his breath as he hit his foot on something. Waddling through the darkness, he flicked the light on and rubbed his toe. The sudden brightness took some adjusting to. The knock persisted, getting faster by the second.

“Chill the fu-“ He threw the door open, the curse freezing on his lips when he saw who was standing outside.

“Mr- Mr. Kim?”

The man in sweatpants looked so different, as if he were a whole other person, and not the suit and tie guy Seung Jo knew of.

“I’m coming in, it’s fucking freezing.” Taehyung brushed past Seung Jo, making straight for the couch.

Sweat lined Seung Jo’s neck, even though it was winter and bone-chillingly cold.

“Is something the matter, sir?” He couldn’t imagine the boss man coming to his house at such an odd time. Whatever it was, it surely wasn’t good news.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Seung Jo.” Taehyung waved a file at the man in front of him. “Who hired you?”

The sweat was coming in torrents now. “Uh- Miss Na Yeon did, sir.” He wasn’t sure how much the boss had found out. He didn’t know if he was owning up to the plan or to the fact that she hired him as the chauffeur.

“As the-?” Taehyung persisted, patience wearing thin.

Seung Jo shut up, he was not going to readily own up. He wouldn’t give up and lose Malta and love to empty threats.

“As the chauffeur,” he replied sulkily.

“Oh?” Taehyung’s lips remained in the surprised pout for a whole minute. “Well, I have a whole file of papers that proves otherwise.”

Seung Jo knew now. His breath stuck in his throat. “Mr. Kim, let me explain…”

Taehyung waved in dismissal. “Just spit out the truth. I don’t have time. Bare facts.”

When he received just a beseeching look in reply, Taehyung opened the file and pulled out sheets of paper.

“Two tickets to Malta.” He waved them at the man. “By flight.” He removed some more sheets and waved them. “Three tickets to Santorini, by ship.”

Taehyung clucked his tongue. “Tell me I’m wrong, Seung Jo, how can you be on a flight and a ship on the same day?”

Seung Jo knew that he was beyond saving. He knew Taehyung’s violent temper. And living around men with guns had already shaken him enough to know when to give up.

“Mr. Kim, sir, I was asked to trick Mrs. Kim into going to the harbor. I was supposed to get out of the country as soon as she left to go to the harbor.”

“And what’s in the harbor?”

“I don’t know, sir. I really don’t. Ms. Na Yeon told me to not poke my nose into it when I asked.”

“And you were going to Malta.” Taehyung leaned back as he surveyed the man shaking before him. “With your boyfriend.”

Seung Jo nodded, wiping his sweat with his palm. “I wanted to live a better life, Mr. Kim. My boyfriend- he’s a barista. He has been through enough in life, that’s why I accepted Ms. Na Yeon’s offer. I wanted money.” He sniffed. “I wanted to marry my boyfriend and give him the life he deserves.”

Taehyung looked at the man closely. “Did you ever… kiss my…”

The man shook his head with violent passion. “No, sir! No. I could never cheat on my boyfriend.”

Taehyung’s chest deflated. “So, you never had feelings for her?”

“I swear I didn’t, sir.”

Good. The guy hadn’t held you or touched you with any lustful intent. Taehyung would have chopped the fucker’s fingers off if he had. He felt lucky.

“Na Yeon doesn’t know that you’re gay?”

She had made a very foolish mistake, overseeing that important detail. One that was going to cost her dearly.

“No, sir, I wanted the money. I couldn’t risk not being hired. She has no idea.”

The man was visibly shaking. He kept wiping his sweaty palms on his sides. “Please, please don’t kill me, sir. I …”

“Oh no, Seung Jo. Here’s what we are going to do...”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Y/N?”

You turned to Seung Jo. His almond skin was glinting in the afternoon sun. “Yeah?”

He passed the tickets to you. Your hands shook when you opened the envelope. The destination made your head swim. Santorini. It was real. You were really going. Your baby girl and you were finally going to be free.

You nodded at him absently before asking “And yours?”

He chuckled, nodding. “I have it safely locked at home. Can’t risk carrying it around, babe.”

“Yeah. Right.”

You fell silent, looking at the cottony clouds sailing above. “It feels so scary-” You took a deep breath – “Getting out of there.” The silence resumed for a moment. “I’m scared I might wake up and find this is all nothing but a dream.”

Seung Jo’s conscience pricked him for the first time. He was dangling freedom in front of a woman who would never get out of the cage. But he had gotten into the sticky mess; he had to get out of it alive.

Taehyung had threatened to kill his boyfriend if he didn’t finish the game he had started.

He squeezed your hand, gently assuring that you were going to escape for real.

“But we’re going on Friday, not Thursday.”

You stared at the ticket closely, surprise written on your face. “I thought you said Thursday. I clearly remember.”

He looked ahead, avoiding your stare. “Yeah I did. But I could get tickets only for Friday. Just a day, babe, hold on for one more day.”

You nodded, gulping down the fear nibbling at your heart. Taehyung would go ballistic if he knew your passports were missing. Just one day.

“So, be ready and I’ll come pick you and Ha Neul up on Friday. You told him you’re going to the dentist, right?”

You nodded again. The alibis were already ready.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“You ready? It’s time. Get going, Seung Jo.”

“Yes, ma’am. I am on my way to the house.”

“Text me when you get there.”

She cut the call and picked up her burner cell. The room was silent except for the low sound of the dial tone.

“You there yet?”

“Yeah. I’ve already set up the scope.”

“Okay. Remember, she’ll be there with her daughter. Wrap it up nice and clean.”

“For sure.”

The sniper hung up, looking at his neon watch. He had some time to kill before his target would be arriving.

Meanwhile, Na Yeon was micromanaging Seung Ho, calling him every few minutes to check up on him. She was in her apartment, biting her fingernails and praying that everything would go right.

Seung Jo hadn’t told her anything that was the least suspicious. Had Taehyung really not found out? Was she winning? Her controlling nature was bursting at the seams, not being there to witness your death. She didn’t like putting her fate into other people’s hands. But some battles were better fought remotely.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“I never miss a target.”

Her fingers trembled, causing the cellphone to shake. She drew a shaky breath.

“Fine. Abort and return.”

When she turned, she had a violent start. A dark outline was standing the doorway, moving towards her. Taehyung stepped into view, his devilish smile lending unnatural charm to his features.

“Guess I won then?”

She had no choice but to surrender, tail well between her legs. All the confidence in her had evaporated away. Not because she failed to kill you. Rather because she had lost him. He was never going to be hers.

“What’s it gonna be? She asked softly. “Death by what? Guns? Poison? Explosives?”

He chuckled lightly. “None.” He took great pleasure in seeing her startled expression.

“What?!”

He flashed his boxy smile, melting the living soul out of her.

“You can never get me, Na Yeon. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live.” He crossed his arms and pursed his lips. “You did try to harm the singularly most important person in my life. For that though, you’ll have to pay the price.”

He dipped his hands into his pockets.

“A sniper? Really? I never expected that much class from you. I’m amazed.” He chuckled lightly. “Your sniper couldn’t shoot my wife because according to Seung Jo’s new plan, they’re leaving tomorrow, not today.” He loved the way she gulped in shock.

“You played me, so I played you by using your own man against you.”

That evening, So Na Yeon was restrained and taken to the Klammer Institute, where she was placed in a psychiatric ward reserved exclusively for her. Her registration form simply stated ‘No next of kin. Hold till end of life.’

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You couldn’t sleep all night. What if something raised Taehyung’s doubts? You weren’t going to take any luggage. Getting yourselves out of Taehyung’s clutches was enough for now. You had prepped Ha Neul for the big plan, telling her that it was a surprise for daddy and she absolutely should not say anything before him.

Taehyung was tired and slept soundly by your side. It eased your mind to know he wasn’t aware of how fidgety you were. That man had the sense of a bloodhound.

Dawn came, and soon it was bright and sunny. Taehyung smiled into his glass of juice when you announced that you were going to the dentist.

“Sure, honey. Be back soon.” He resumed scanning his newspaper.

You waited and waited, biting your lips, and stealing looks at the clock. The ship was going to sail away soon. But no Seung Jo came. He had talked to you the previous evening, going over the entire plan. Where, then, was he?

You jumped whenever a shadow fell across the foyer, hoping to see Seung Jo bounding in. But every time, you were disappointed.

Taehyung kept a straight face when he asked, “Do you want one of the guards to drive you?”

You shook your head, biting your lips harder. “No, I’m fine.” You looked up at the clock again. He wasn’t coming. He had let you down.

You had chased a fickle drop, and it had vanished, leaving you stranded in the desert.

At that exact time, Seung Jo was inside the plane bound to Malta, holding hands with his boyfriend, waiting for the takeoff.

His boyfriend pressed his hand warmly. “What is it, babe? Sad about leaving this place?”

Seung Jo gave him a watery smile. “Uh, yeah. Kind of.”

The plane took off, carrying them both towards a new phase of life. Seung Jo leaned and peered down the window, wondering about you. He had done everything Taehyung had ordered him to. There was nothing more to be done. He hoped you would be alright.

“I love you,” his boyfriend said, leaning on his shoulder and sighing happily.

“I love you too.”

“To better places, love.”

“Yeah, babe. To better places only.”

With that, Seung Jo erased you off his mind.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Wo Bin discreetly cleared his throat, standing at full attention before his boss.

“What’s the matter, Bin-ah?”

The man hesitated slightly, unsure of how to best word it.

“Mr. Boss, no, Kim… no, Mr. Kim….”

Taehyung shot a penetrating glance at his aide, peering at him over his reading glasses.

“Spit it out, Bin.”

“I don’t know how to…” He saw his boss’s nostrils flare up, and he blurted it out. “I- I’ve been in-“ He swallowed hard, “-in love with So Na Yeon for years now.”

He nervously watched his boss digest the information, waiting to have his head bitten off.

Taehyung crossed his arms and stared at Wo Bin hard.

“For years?”

Wo Bin nodded silently.

“Help me understand, Bin. You say you love her and then she tries to kill my wife? Were you two planning…”

“No, no, boss! I never told her. She doesn’t know. Not an inkling. I never even asked her out.”

Taehyung leaned back a bit. “So, are you going to fight me for putting her in an institute?” He looked at the gun in Wo Bin’s holster. “Are you going to shoot me?”

“Of course not, sir. I loved her. I still do in fact.” The man wiped his brow. “But I would never choose her over you.”

Taehyung’s brow shot up, intrigued.

“Why is that?”

“She doesn’t love me.”

The soft voice made Taehyung uneasy. Was Wo Bin mad at him that So Na Yeon was in love with him? Would he kill him for her? He wouldn’t be surprised if Wo Bin decided to go down that road.

Wo Bin looked down at his boots and continued: “She’s not So Na Yeon anymore. I didn’t fall in love with Song Jun Hyi.” He snapped his head back up to look at Taehyung square in the eyes. “And most importantly, I would never betray you.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

One year later

“Mommy, will daddy get candy?”

“Yes, baby.”

Your little girl shook her pigtails cutely, saying “Will I get gummy bears?”

You smiled and nodded at her, assuring her that she would.

Taehyung was talking to Wo Bin, who was complaining loudly about the lack of discipline in the ranks. “Some guys are just too unruly, boss. They’re like a bunch of school boys.”

Taehyung’s phone vibrated, and he smiled as he picked it up.

“Yes, sugar?”

“Min Ha Neul wants gummy bears. Don’t be a miser. Get her some M&Ms too.”

“And you, love? Can I get you anything? Cravings?”

“Fucking get hit by a car and die.”

“I’ll remember not to,” he replied, grinning.

You sighed and looked down. 6 months pregnant. It was humiliating to carry his child around. But you couldn’t hate the baby. No, you weren’t evil enough to do that. He was such a bitch to you, yes, but you would never hurt babies. You would never stoop that low.

You still randomly thought of Seung Jo. Where had he gone? Had Taehyung found out and killed him? But Taehyung was a man to gloat. He would have laughed in your face and told the news. So, what else had happened to Seung Jo? The thoughts came occasionally, out of nowhere. And every time, you daydreamed of escaping on that ship, far far away from Kim Taehyung.

When Taehyung returned home, he couldn’t find you in the bedroom. Waltzing over to the kitchen, he froze when he saw you downing something straight out of a bottle. He bounded over to you, snatching it, and raining slaps on your face.

“You’re trying to kill my baby,” he screamed in hysteria, shaking you by the throat. “You bitch, you’re poisoning my baby!”

“Let me go,” you croaked, “it’s – it’s just cough syrup.” You threw the bottle down, fighting to breathe.

His hands abruptly left your throat, his pupils still dilated in the surge of adrenaline. You looked over his shoulder and saw Ha Neul peeking around the door, scared by the loud noise.

When he bent and looked at the label, he hung his head sheepishly. It was cough syrup.

“Don’t worry,” you snapped, brushing past him, “Unlike you, I don’t hurt children.” You paused and glared at him. “Or anyone, for that matter.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The baby was due in a few weeks. You had to get a breath of fresh air. You had been going to see your parents for a few weeks, but then the back pain had become too much to handle. You had missed a few weeks, and suddenly you decided on a whim to visit them. It was a long walk, yes, but it would help clear your mind.

You wanted to take Almond too. The poor boy really needed some love. Those brutes with guns didn’t exactly shower him with the love he deserved.

When you knocked on the study door, there was no response. Taehyung worked from home just like he had done when you were pregnant with Ha Neul. You tried the handle and opened the door, but he wasn’t there. Fuck. He usually went wild if you didn’t ask him before taking Almond out. Screw it, you couldn’t be bothered to call and ask.

The crunch of gravel underneath your sneakers felt oddly satisfying. The elation of taking Almond along without Taehyung knowing stirred rebellious joy in your heart. The guards might probably tell him, but you would deal with it later.

Almond happily sniffed at the flowers by the roadside, wagging his tail and occasionally pressing his body against your legs to show his appreciation. Such a dear little thing. You were smiling when you entered the cemetery. Walking past the headstones, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when you saw two bouquets of white carnations laid neatly on your parents’ graves. You hastened towards them, Almond bounding closely behind you.

The water droplets on the flowers were still fresh, the candles had just gone out. You touched a wick. It was still warm. You looked around wildly, almost missing the man walking far ahead of you, amid the maze of graves.

So, you had finally lost your mind. Were you seeing Yoongi? Had you gone crazy? What would happen to Ha Neul if you were sent to a psych ward? A billion questions buzzed in your mind.

“Almond, stay.”

The dog sat down faithfully.

You trailed behind the apparition, unsure of what to expect. Turning around a row of headstones, he turned to the side, and his side profile was thrown into light. Your breath stopped, heart hammering away inside your ribcage. He sauntered away, unaware of the heavily pregnant woman following him. You ducked behind a headstone, watching him walk out through the other entrance, making straight for his car.

The car revved up and glided away, leaving you staring open-mouthed. He had been the mysterious flower guy the whole fucking time? The fact flashed at you out of the blue. It was Wednesday. Your parents had died on a Wednesday.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

When you walked back home and left Almond at his kennel, the car was already parked in the porch. A bouquet of lilies was on the kitchen counter. Near it was a bag of Tootsie Pops and gummy bears for Ha Neul.

You walked down the hallway to his study. The door was half open. He was writing something and turned in surprise when he saw you.

“What is it, Y/N?”

You couldn’t coherently form a word. His gaze roamed down and settled on the flecks on your pants.

“Is that… dog hair?”

“I went for a walk; you weren’t there when I came to ask about Almond.”

You waited for him to say something. Anything.

“Well, it’s okay just this one time.” It looked as if he wanted to say something else. “I.. uh, brought you some flowers. Didn’t want them to be thrown on my face, so I left them on the counter.”

Mustering up a great deal of courage, you breathed out, “The flowers-“

He didn’t give away anything. There was no dawning recognition on his features.

“Yeah, lilies. You love lilies.”

“Uh, yeah. Yep, I do.”

You silently removed yourself from the room, too dazed to think. The man you had met at the cemetery had said that he had been paid for like- what? Five years? You realized that his job was to scrub wax and get the shrunken flowers off the graves before you went to see them on Thursdays. Taehyung knew your parents had died on a Wednesday. How much did he actually know about you?

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Y/N?”

Taehyung had woken up thirsty, and had gone down to get a sip of cold water.

The fridge door was open; and the soft light fell on his favorite person in the world, with an ice cream tub cuddled in her chest. At the sound of his deep groggy voice, the spoon fell on the floor with a clang.

“Here,” he picked a fresh spoon and handed it to you. “Oh my, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.”

You raised an eyebrow, licking the back of the spoon and smacking your lips. Was he fucking kidding you?

“I’m round as a ball, wearing sweatpants twice my size, leaking through my hoodie, stuffing my face at 3 in the morning with blackcurrant ice cream, and you find me beautiful?”

He snorted, spilling the water on his shirt. Wiping his mouth, he laughed at your indignant face.

“Of course. You don’t believe me?”

“Like hell I would,” you grunted, digging into the tub to scoop up some more.

He clutched your arm, steering you forward as he kicked the fridge door closed.

“Come, let’s go. No, bring the ice cream with you. It’s okay.”

When you reached the bedroom, he flicked on the light, the sudden radiance dazzling your eyes.

He pulled you to the mirrored closet, standing behind you with his chest pressed against your back.

“Look,” he said, taking the ice cream tub from your hands and placing it on the bed gently. “Look ahead.”

His fingers grabbed the hem of your hoodie, his knuckles grazing against your belly and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He slowly lifted the fabric up, bunching it up so your belly was naked and vulnerable.

“See?” he asked, his hand cupping the widest part of your belly, the other hand squeezing your shoulder. “See how beautiful you are, carrying my child. Don’t you see? We made that together.”

His finger traced delicate lines along the bump.

“You’re growing a little Kim inside you, Y/N. Look how pretty you look, swollen with my seed.”

He bent slightly to breathe into your ear: “So fucking perfect.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Kim Taehyung, you miserable bitch!”

Taehyung shot up to his feet, rushing to your side.

“Yes, honey. I’m here.”

The midwife tried her best to pretend that she didn’t hear you insult him every few seconds your contractions came on.

“You made this happen. You put me through this, you asshole!”

He didn’t care about the midwife squirming behind him. You were his Y/N. You had every right to call him names. He held your hand, attempting to help you focus on your breathing.

“Breathe in, baby, just follow my lead.”

“Fuck you,” you screamed sobbing in agony.

“You can do this, Y/N. Just hang on a little more.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimpered, wanting to smash his head against the wall for putting you through the whole ordeal.

“I know,” he said, rubbing your palm and looking hopelessly at the midwife. “How much longer?”

“Just an hour or so, Mr. Kim.”

He sighed and leaned down to wipe your clammy forehead. “Just a little while longer, baby.”

Taehyung could remember the last time he was in a delivery room only too clearly. He had been seething in white hot rage, furious at Min for letting you handle so much pain.

But now, standing nervously by your side, he felt radically different. He couldn’t wait to get the baby out of you and end your suffering, yes, but there was a small feeling of awe that humbled him.

This woman, the one screaming out curses and clawing at his hands, was birthing his child. He was no more just a man; he was a father. The very thought affected him more than he had anticipated.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

“That’s it, Mrs. Kim, you’re doing great,” the doctor called, her head between the stirrups. “Give me one more push.”

Taehyung felt something odd going on. The pressure on his hand was weakening by the second.

“Y/N?” he called out, bending to look closely. “Are you alright?”

The machines started beeping in a frenzy, and the doctor yelled for help.

“She’s seizing!”

More doctors rushed in, and one of them jabbed at his chest, trying to push him out of the way.

“Please get out of the room, sir,” he said, using his weight to buckle the tall man.

“Yeah? Try and make me,” Taehyung said, rooted to his spot.

People in white coats were barking orders at each other, pushing and pulling his beloved wife all over the place.

The young doctor opened his mouth to argue, and Taehyung sneered at him angrily.

“Look, you moron, that woman is my wife, and I swear I will rip your balls off if you don’t back off!”

Suddenly, all the pandemonium stopped, and the doctors began filing out of the room.

“What, what?” He shouted, kicking himself for losing track of you.

Your doctor glared at him, pissed.

“If you are done heckling my intern, Mr. Kim, you may be pleased to know your baby is coming. Now.”

Taehyung ran over to the doctor’s side, watching her expertly handle the teeny tiny head coming through.

You were slumped against the pillows in exhaustion, the final push had usurped all your energy.

Before he even saw the baby’s face, Taehyung rushed back to you, hugging you tight. His body shook in emotion.

“I almost died, you scared me so much.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Kim Jaemin was born hale and healthy, his cute cheeks and glittering eyes making you wonder how such a wonderful little human could have been sired by Kim Taehyung.

When you took him back home after a few days, the entire staff of Taehyung’s office showed up to celebrate the baby. The mansion was decorated with festoons and balloons, welcoming the Kim heir heartily.

Taehyung threw a party in honor of the birth of his son, sending out handwritten invitations to every person in the elite circle.

He played the part of the generous host to perfection, moving around the hall with a gracious smile. He had bullied you into wearing a pretty dress and greeting the guests.

You were hastening to get yourself a drink when his sonorous voice chanted your name and piqued your interest.

“… is such a talented person. Yeah, it’s a pity she couldn’t work on projects, I am sure she could work from home. Her artistic sense is impeccable. Come, I’ll show you how tastefully she has decorated the study. You couldn’t see such perfect harmony and rhythm anywhere.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

Ha Neul was elated to have such a cute younger brother. She eagerly brought all her toys to stuff inside his crib, her gummy smile widening every time he giggled.

Jaemin took after you, most of his features resembled you. Taehyung took absolute pride in that. He had made a baby with you. A baby that looked so alike you. A part of him and you were inside Jaemin. Curiously though, he felt like he loved you more than he did his own boy. Yes, Jaemin was his offspring, but it was you that he loved. And you always came first.

Not an ounce of his jealousy had changed. He still hated when you coddled Jaemin or breastfed him. His son was stealing your love. He hoped he wouldn’t grow to regret having Jaemin. He would have much preferred a girl, just so he could compare Min’s daughter and his own and tell himself that he had won over Yoongi, producing the best child.

But when he saw Ha Neul kissing Jaemin’s forehead with her tender lips, he wondered if he were really a monster to even think of comparing children. How could Ha Neul love Jaemin so much? Wasn’t she the least bit jealous? He was baffled and lost, stressed at the complexity, and wondering why everything was so fucking difficult.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Ha Neul was off at kindergarten, you had fought tooth and nail with Taehyung so she could go to school. He had reluctantly agreed, just to get a break from your constant swearing.

After sending her off with Wo Bin, you looked at the clock. You had an appointment with the pediatrician. Taehyung had already given you a credit card, kissing the top of your head before leaving to his office. Strangely, he only ever patted Jaemin’s back, there were no kisses. There weren’t any kisses for Ha Neul either, but you couldn’t help wondering why Jaemin got the same treatment. Wasn’t Jaemin his own flesh and blood?

Wasn’t the war he waged against Yoongi over already? He had gotten what he had wanted. He had ruined the Min clan, taken you and made you a Kim, and finally gotten his own child. What else did he want?

The grandfather clock chimed and startled you out of your musings. You had better shower; the appointment couldn’t be missed. Laying Jaemin down in his crib, you told the nanny to engage him while you got ready.

“Mrs. Kim?” The nanny was standing at the door meekly. “Ah, good. I thought you had already gotten into the shower.”

“What is it, Dana?”

“Little Jaemin broke the harness of his stroller, I wanted to remind you.”

Oh yeah, you had almost forgotten it. You had to buy a new one. Wait. Ha Neul’s old stroller was still in the basement. It could fill in until you bought another one.

“I think there’s a 5-point harness somewhere, I’ll get it.”

Taehyung always insisted that you never go down. He just forbade you from going to the basement. But you had sneaked there a few times. The walls were definitely wallpapered for some reason. Who wallpapered basements? Apart from that, there wasn’t anything suspicious whatsoever.

When you went down, there was so much stuff boxed up neatly in the basement. Ha Neul’s boxes took just a couple minutes to find. The harness was packed along with it, and you grabbed it and turned to leave before something curious made you stare harder.

The wallpaper had previously disguised it, but the ageing and peeling had revealed some parts of the wall. The paper dipped into parts of rectangular crevice almost the exact size of a door. A door? Was it a secret door? A tunnel? Maybe that’s why Taehyung had forbade you from coming to the basement? What was that crevice for?

You felt around the paper, knocking, and pressing, and sure enough, it was a door. Fiddling around, your fingers found a keyhole. It was so small that you almost missed it. How could you open it? There had to be a key somewhere… You tried pushing and jiggling the door. But it was firm and unrelenting. The curious side of you itched to know what was on the other side. Something like an escape tunnel, surely, because Taehyung had been so stubborn about shooing you away from the damned basement.

When you went back up, you passed the harness to the nanny and hit the shower. You were still thinking about the door. Well, you would find out soon enough.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Se Jong was waiting impatiently, smoking his last cigarette, and cursing at no one in particular. How long was it going to take for those stupid dickwads to get the job done? It was getting late. He had to have heard from them a quarter of an hour earlier. The loud ringtone startled him, and he cursed again, shifting his phone to his ear.

“You done?”

“Yeah, man.”

He smiled, licking his lips eagerly. God, he was going to be so rich. He took his sweet time finishing his smoke, dialing Taehyung’s number lazily. A deep voice answered.

“Kim Taehyung.”

Se Jong grinned into the phone. “I’m Se Jong.” He snorted a bit, the chuckle making a gross sound in his throat. “Wanna talk.”

Taehyung was puzzled. His guys never called him directly. It was always Wo Bin who dealt with their calls and reported to him. Was the bastard drunk?

“I’m busy, keep it short,” he snapped.

The voice on the other end laughed stupidly, pissing him off even further.

“Did you just- laugh at me, Se Jong?” he shouted, slapping the table. “Why are you even calling me? Quit wasting my time!”

“Simmer down, Taehyung,” the voice drawled, shocking Taehyung into stillness. He dared call him by name? He was certainly asking for a bullet in his brain, the damned son of a bitch.

The cocky chuckle repeated itself, and then the voice came out low and menacing.

“I got your kid. I’m gonna rip him in pieces if you don’t do what I say.”

Taehyung’s blood chilled. His fingers clutched the phone tighter. His son Jaemin? What the fuck was happening? He shot up, sprinting out of his office, phone pressed against his ear. He raced through the paneled offices, taking the stairs at a frenzied pace.

“Get me Wo Bin. Now!” He screamed at the driver, hopping into the car and slamming the door. Se Jong was chuckling on the other end of the line when he panted into the phone, out of breath.

“How much do you want?”

“Oh, Taehyung.” There was a mocking whistle. “How much can you give me?”

The car was racing towards home. Taehyung’s mind was spinning in circles, nothing was comprehensible. You? What about you? Was it only Jaemin that had been kidnapped?

“I… What do you want?”

Silence.

The man chuckled again. “Power. Everything. All that you have. Oh, including that pretty piece of ass, your wife. The whole deal.”

Taehyung gritted his teeth, relapsing into stony silence, willing the car to move faster. The tires squealed, and he jumped out even before the ignition was turned off. Another car pulled up right behind him. Wo Bin jumped out, concern written all over his features.

Taehyung sprinted towards the nursery, heart thudding and making him feel sick.

“Y/N? Y/N?” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Y/N!!”

No baby in the crib.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Se Jong laughed, snorting again. “No boy at home? Ready to talk business now?”

Wo Bin watched Taehyung collapse onto the floor, squatting weakly. Sweat was pouring down his clothes.

“What do you want?”

“Now that’s the right tone, that pleading tone is good to hear. I’ll call in five.” The line went dead.

Taehyung stared at his phone screen blankly, feeling numb throughout.

“The fuck were you shouting about?”

Taehyung looked up startled, and saw you standing before him, your face cross. Most importantly, a child was on your hips, hugging you like a koala. His son. Jaemin.

He sputtered his words out.

“I- was just… looking for… never mind, Y/N.”

You gave him the hardest glare you could muster, wild at being interrupted in the middle of a diaper change.

Taehyung got up, pulling his subordinate by his sleeve, dragging him to the window.

“What the fuck is Se Jong high on, Bin-ah?” he spat, staring at the confused man.

“What exactly did he say, sir?”

Taehyung could hardly contain his loudness. “He told me he had kidnapped my son for fuck’s sake?”

“Kidnapped?”

You spun around on hearing Wo Bin hiss the word.

“But little Jaemin is here, sir.” Taehyung blew out his cheeks while Wo Bin scratched his head.

“Get me that bitch, that loser bitch in Klammer.”

Taehyung was pacing angrily when the orderly at Klammer Institute let Na Yeon talk into the phone.

“What have you done, bitch?” He screamed, anger rising exponentially. “What is the deal with Se Jong? I’m going to fucking ruin you-“

“What happened?” There was an agonizing silence spanning a whole minute. And then the woman giggled into the phone. “Ooh, something juicy did happen, huh?” She sounded surprised. “Se Jong? Who, the banker? What did he do? Spill the tea, it’s so boring here in the psych ward.”

He held his nose, trying to force himself to calm down. “You didn’t fucking send him?”

She chortled, annoying him to no end. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I hope he kills that bitch. So that-“

He disconnected the call, cursing out loud.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──--

Se Jong was in the mood for celebration. He was going to strip everything Taehyung had built and become the new lord. Everything Kim Taehyung had built, all his drug cartels, his businesses, everything was going to be his. He was going to be so fucking powerful.

His phone rang again.

“Man, everything OK?”

“Yes, everything’s smooth. How you holding up?”

“Alright here. Little biter we got here. Bit my arm. Can’t wait to get rid of her.”

Se Jong was slow to catch the last word.

“Her?”

“Yeah, man. Kim’s girl.”

Se Jong spat the whiskey he was sipping all over his car’s windscreen. “What the hell are you saying? I told you to get his son!”

“But his wife was late from the clinic, we couldn’t hang out there no more without no one bein’ suspicious. Chill, dude, we snatched the daughter from school. What difference is it gonna make? Boy or girl, both are his, right?”

His entire neck vein was bulging prominently when Se Jong shouted into the phone:

“He doesn’t give a fuck about that one!”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Did you say ‘kidnapped’, Wo Bin?” You advanced towards him, suspicion setting off a loud alarm in your brain. “What is happening here?”

Taehyung stepped nearer to you, murmuring that it was nothing of significance.

“No,” you pushed him away, snapping at him. “Tell me now.”

“He was probably drunk, or high on something, he said he had kidnapped our baby,” Taehyung said, the relieved expression on his face changing as he saw the horror on your face.

“Y/N? Jaemin is safe. So- so… why are you….”

“Oh my God! Ha Neul! Where is my daughter?” Bunching his shirt in your fists, you screamed at him. “Tell me you checked on her. Did you call the school? Did you?”

He looked helplessly at Wo Bin, not daring to answer. Ha Neul hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“You’re pathetic,” you spat out, rushing out to get your shoes.

“Y/N! Where are you going?” he called after you, running to keep up with your pace.

“To fetch my baby. Because you clearly don’t give a shit about her.”

He pulled on your elbow, stilling you. “Listen. I will get her. You stay here with Jaemin.”

“You think I am gonna trust you? You forgot my baby girl, you bitch!”

Taehyung winced at the word, fully aware that Wo Bin was listening.

“Y/N, fucking see reason…” His phone rang again. “Se Jong, I’ll end you, do you hea-“

You snatched the phone from him, screaming into it. “Listen, motherfucker, give me my baby back, or I’ll shove your balls down your fucking throat.”

Taehyung wrestled the phone away, motioning for you to be patient. He swore and cussed briefly, nodding at Wo Bin and they bolted out of the door before you could blink.

“HEY!”

But they had already gone. When you tried to run after them, armed guys blocked your way, brandishing rifles and guns and making you retreat.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

You were pacing nervously around, not able to think clearly. Jaemin was sent to his nanny, under strict orders to stay put. Your baby, your little Min Ha Neul, was she alright? How foolish and ignorant these goons were, letting a guy kidnap a kid right under their armed noses. Fucking losers. Poor baby Ha Neul, she was probably scared out of her wits.

It reminded you of when Yoongi had been locked up in that basement. The scary memories wrapped you in sheets of terror, smothering your lungs. You collapsed in a half-faint, hitting the floor with a thud. Something poked at your butt. Bleary eyed, you reached down and removed the cold object, cursing at it for jabbing you.

The object glinted in your fingers. You had seen it already; it was the chain Taehyung always wore around his neck. There was a small Abloy key attached to the chain. The key was somehow special. It opened something. But you had no idea what.

You threw it away, the faint cling of the chain resounding against the flooring. So what if it was special? You couldn’t be bothered to worry about it. Not when your baby was somewhere, cold and probably scared too. She was only a child, your precious child. It made your blood boil that Taehyung had completely forgotten about Ha Neul in the first place.

It felt like history was repeating itself, mocking at you cruelly. First, Min Yoongi. Now, Min Ha Neul. At least you knew where Yoongi had been. You knew he had been locked in the basement, waiting to be saved. But for Ha Neul, you felt so helpless, not knowing where she was. You traced your thoughts back. Basement. You looked at the chain lying forgotten on the floor. The key.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Se Jong! Show your face, you filthy cocksucker!”

The garage was eerily empty, unused cars parked at odd angles, jamming the place. Everything was dusty and forgotten.

“Bin-ah, cover the right flank, I’m going to towards the left,” Taehyung whispered, cocking his gun.

There was utter silence, not even the rustle of leaves providing any relief. Taehyung listened for a sign, any sign, to deduce where your daughter was. It would take hours to comb through each rattled car, not to mention the time it would take for just two men to accomplish the feat.

The loud ding of Taehyung’s phone echoed around. Sliding against a car’s door, Taehyung squatted down and slid his phone out.

03:10 Unknown sender

Throw your guns away & raise your hands. Both of you.

Taehyung turned on his phone’s flashlight and shone it under the maze of cars. There were no feet anywhere. That meant his enemy was most probably in one of the cars. But which one?

“Boss,” Wo Bin hissed, his voice slicing through the silence. From his vantage point, Taehyung saw Wo Bin crawl under a line of cars.

Tucking his phone back, Taehyung started crawling too, inching slowly forward. Wo Bin gestured towards a black Chevrolet parked a few paces ahead. He pointed to his eyes, and then to the floor. Taehyung squinted hard, and then he realized what it was.

There was a wet patch under the car. AC condensation. They had found the car.

Taking careful aim, Taehyung took a shot at the tires, and Wo Bin followed suit. Just as the first bullet hit the wheel disc, Ha Neul’s voice rang out in a high-pitched scream.

“Daddy!”

Wo Bin advanced ahead, rushing in the direction of the scream. Taehyung’s fingers were groping for his gun when a bullet hit the ground dangerously close to Wo Bin. More gunshots followed in quick succession, and Ha Neul wailed again, this time her voice broken by a sob.

“Daddy!”

Despite his better judgement, Taehyung crept out from under the cars, in full view of any hidden attacker.

“Min Ha Neul!”

“Daddy!”

“I’m coming, baby!”

A bullet whizzed through the air, hitting him square in the forearm. Every angry nerve in him was roused, and he ran like a cheetah, ducking under cars and jumping over hoods, not minding the rain of bullets showering all around him.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

The key fit like magic. You had initially thought that it was too small to fit. But it clicked open just fine. What were you going to find behind the door? It was scary and mysterious, but if there were a tunnel you could crawl out of, you would do it in a heartbeat just for your baby.

Slowly, you pushed the door open, met with eerie darkness. You fumbled, feeling around, and touching what felt like a toggle switch. You flicked it on, and the room was flooded with blinding radiance. The sight before you knocked all the breath out of your lungs.

There were shelves and shelves made of crystal, filled with hauntingly familiar things. Photos of you adorned the walls, framed in gold. There were little boxes, which you found to contain empty candy wrappers, used lipstick tubes, hair ties, juice straws, every little odd thing collected in each box. There were your old shoes, ones that you had thrown out before you had even met Yoongi.

On the far left was a shelf of books. There was also a chair with a reading light. You looked closer, and found that the books were Virginia Woolf, Charlotte Bronte, and a few other authors you exclusively read. They weren’t from your own collection; they had the seal of the district library on them. Leafing through the pages, you found out that you had borrowed every one of those books at some point in time. Your signature was on all of them. So was Taehyung’s. The dates showed that Taehyung had borrowed them long ago. Long before Yoongi came into your life.

There were more boxes, more things to go through. But you were drawn to the turquoise colored crystal trinket box that was right at the center of the room. You reached out and took it, the cool crystal sending a subconscious shiver up your back. You opened it slowly, and your jaw dropped.

Nestled in it comfortably were your and Yoongi’s wedding rings. They sparkled and winked at you, catching the light concentrated by the crystal they were placed in. You were holding them, not knowing what to feel, when you heard Taehyung’s muffled voice.

“Y/N!”

Your heart turned cold. He couldn’t catch you at the basement. It was incredibly creepy, and you had no idea what to do with the sudden sensory overload. You almost dropped the crystal box, hastening to replace it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a framed photograph.

You. With your parents. It had been hanging in your childhood home.

Forgetting about the man calling your name, you reached over and took the photograph. The glass had not a speck of dust. It had been wiped so clean that it gleamed. You stood there, quietly sobbing, not sure how to deal with everything, when soft footsteps stole behind you.

“Y/N?”

He was carrying Ha Neul over his shoulder. “Shh, she’s sleeping.” He beckoned to you, inviting you into a group hug. You silently sidled over to him, crying into his shoulder.

“Sh, baby, she’s fine. She’s fine. It’s okay.” He patted your hair, kissing the top of your head. “Here.” He passed your daughter to you.

You cuddled your sleeping child, all the worry easing away. You held her against your bosom, chest heaving with the force of your sobs. Her sleepy little fingers clenched and unclenched, finding purchase at your shirt.

“Taehyung… all this? Why didn’t.. how.. I never knew…”

“It’s alright,” he repeated, soothing you. “We’ll talk about it later.”

The wetness of his elbow soaked a red patch on your shirt.

“You’re bleeding,” you hissed, pupils wide with horror.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, attempting to draw the injured hand away. It didn’t really matter. Because he was with you.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung was sitting on the couch, staring into the space. He hadn’t meant for you to see the memento room. It made him feel embarrassed. His cheeks were hot. He was fanning himself with his hands when he heard your light step.

“Taehyung?”

He gazed at you, no words filling the silence that stretched over several seconds.

You took a step forward, unsure. “Why- the flowers- how long-“

He patted the couch, motioning for you sit down. When you silently glided to the couch, he took your hand in his.

“Now, tell me, baby. Ask me anything but take a deep breath first.”

Man, breathing was so difficult. “I saw you at the cemetery.”

“Oh.”

You stared longer, hoping for another word to fall from his lips. “Why? Every Wednesday? What do they have to do with you? Why do you-”

He blinked, clearing his throat. “They gave birth to you. They deserve to be worshipped. Centuries of destined ancestry and lineage led to their making you. They gave you to this world. They gave you to me.”

You were taken aback. “And the room? Those things there? You stalked me?”

He scoffed lightly. “I loved you. Still do. Always will.”

“But wasn’t it Yoongi you wanted to destroy? You…“

He squeezed your hand. “He was an obstacle. Nothing else. I was blind with hatred, angry that he’d taken you away from me.”

“Why didn’t-” you forced yourself to breathe. “- why didn’t you let me know? Even before I dated Yoongi… Why?” Your voice broke. You would have probably declined, but who knew, you might have even agreed to go on a date with him.

He simply sighed. “Thinking about roads not taken seldom gives you peace of mind.”

You blinked back the tears. “And Woolf? You read Woolf?”

“It is all rather pointless and second-rate without you,” he quoted, flashing a boxy smile.

You didn’t know what to say. It was impossible to love Taehyung. He had killed Yoongi. He had almost drowned Ha Neul. But…

Ha Neul peeked her pretty head around the door.

“Mommy, can I play with baby Jae in the nursery?”

“Yes, you can, sweetheart.”

She ran away happily.

He had saved Ha Neul from the kidnapper. He had taken a bullet to protect your daughter. It was all so crazy and complicated.

“So,” he drawled, breaking into your thoughts. “Do you think you can love me?”

“No.”

He nodded and bowed his head. He hesitated before asking the next question. He feared hearing something he wouldn’t like.

“Maybe you could learn to like me?”

He held his breath as you thought about it.

“I –“

Your words hung in the air, unspoken, when the sound of guns going off echoed throughout the mansion. Taehyung jumped up, drawing his gun from the holster, and pulling you behind him.

“Stay back, Y/N,” he said, rushing towards the door. “Don’t come out until I call for you.”

A bullet whizzed in through the window, hitting a framed picture and shattering the glass.

“Down, stay down,” he shouted, bolting through the door. He stood there for a moment, hesitating. Turning on his heel, he ran back to you and knelt on the floor. Cupping your cheeks, he kissed you hastily, as if he were scared that you would disappear the next second.

“Y/N, don’t move,” he urged, shaking your shoulders until you nodded in response.

He was out of the door the next moment, before he could hear you shriek urgently:

“Ha Neul and Jaemin! What about the babies?”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Taehyung ran towards the source of the gunshots. He knew it was from his own guards. He knew the sounds of the rifles by heart. But who were they shooting at?

The sounds grew louder and louder, and he ran up the stairs in hot pursuit. There he was, dressed in all black, the man responsible for all the chaos.

Taehyung ground his teeth. He should have expected the asshole to show up sometime. He hadn’t pegged him to be one of the vengeful types, but here he was, proving his assumption wrong.

The guards were all pointing their rifles at the man, but the indecision was palpable.

“Don’t hesitate, just shoot!” Wo Bin cried, egging the guards on. “Casualties are unavoidable in battles.”

The guards looked at each other, fingers still unmoving on their triggers. They needed someone from higher up in the chain of command to issue an order.

Taehyung calmly walked onto the damp terrace floor, the click of his shoes enough to instill reassurance in his guards.

“Let Wo Bin go,” he said, addressing the man holding a gun to his aide’s head. “It’s only you and me. We’ll sort it out between us.”

The man cocked his gun, pressing the muzzle firmly against Wo Bin’s head.

“Y/N and the children, where are they?”

Taehyung tilted his head to the side, rolling his tongue into his cheek.

“Let him go and I’ll take you to see them.”

The man only snickered in response. “I wouldn’t trust you with a penny. Bring them here or I’ll drill holes into his head.”

Turning his gun so the muzzle was facing the sky, Taehyung took a step forward.

“Now, Namjoon, you know you aren’t capable of-“

Kim Namjoon removed the gun for a split second to fire a bullet straight into a guard’s chest. The guard toppled over like a tile of dominoes.

Bringing the gun back to Wo Bin’s head, Namjoon snapped at Taehyung. “Yeah?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll fetch them.” Taehyung turned to a guard, and the man scurried away to fulfill the order.

“How did he get here?” Taehyung barked at Wo Bin, who was still trapped in Namjoon’s hold.

One of the guards moved forward cautiously, reaching Taehyung’s side.

“Wo Bin was cleaning up after Se Jong and his gang, sir. Half our manpower was out in the field assisting him. He… dropped by at Klammer Institute, alone, on his way back. He left his gun at the security desk for frisking.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Taehyung kicked the pebbles scattered on the rugged floor, overwhelmed with anger. Damn Wo Bin for going out and getting caught unarmed. By Kim Namjoon of all people.

“Just shoot me, boss,” Wo Bin said, his voice steady and calm. “Don’t think twice.”

“Shut up, Bin-ah,” Taehyung snapped. He wasn’t losing his best man and his family in a single night. Not to Namjoon; Not to anyone.

“Listen, Namjoon. Don’t involve the rest of them in this. It’s just you and me. Man-to-man.”

“Namjoon!” your voice cut through the cold night air. Jaemin was gathered to your chest, and Ha Neul’s little hand was secured tightly in yours.

“Y/N! Come on over here,” Namjoon shouted, gesturing to his side.

“Oh no, no, no,” Taehyung said, firmly planting himself in front of you. “You have to kill me first.”

“No!” you screamed. “The children! Think about the children! Stop!”

Namjoon bit his lip, glowering at his rival. “Get rid of the guards, then. We’ll see how much of a man you are without a gun. Without your army of gunmen.”

The barb in his tone got to Taehyung, and he shouted at his men to get the hell out of there. He turned to you, yelling at the top of his lungs.

“You! Get back downstairs and send a guard to prepare Namjoon’s coffin.” Ha Neul winced at the shout and tugged at your hand urgently.

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

The guards filed out of the terrace, encircling you and the children so you wouldn’t try and make a run for it. They settled themselves on the stairs, waiting with anxious expressions and bated breaths.

You huddled with the children on the sofa, whispering soothing words to Ha Neul and reassuring her as best as you could.

The three men on the terrace were left alone at last. Namjoon knew that Wo Bin was trained in combat. Wo Bin had been a Captain in the Army before his discharge. The man wasn’t Taehyung’s commander-in-chief for nothing.

“Drop your gun,” Namjoon said, brandishing his weapon at Taehyung.

Taehyung complied wordlessly, dropping his gun, and kicking it away. Mustering all his strength, Namjoon whacked the gun against Wo Bin’s skull, the blunt force knocking him out completely.

“It’s just you and me now, huh?” Namjoon said, kicking his gun away to the side.

“Honestly didn’t take you for the fighter type, Namjoonah,” Taehyung goaded, settling into a boxer stance.

Namjoon charged forward, landing a solid punch in his rival’s ribs.

“Enough chit-chat.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Y/N!”

It was a high-pitched scream; in a voice you knew only too well. There was a sickening sound of glass crashing somewhere to the left of the building.

“Y/N!” this time, the yell came from the stairs, a deathly hush replacing the babble of the guards’ murmurs. The men parted silently, letting the wounded man stumble down the steps one at a time.

“Sweetie, hold your brother’s hand tight until I come, okay?” you whispered to your daughter, running up the stairs to meet him halfway.

“Namjoon!”

His face was ghastly, there were cuts all over his eyebrows and jaw. Blood dripped down his brows in a steady trickle. He was wheezing, all the wind knocked out of his lungs. A few guards rushed past you up the stairs, jostling each other in their hurry.

“Namjoon,” you repeated, kneeling on the steps. “Did you- did you…”

He coughed, spitting blood in the process. When he finally wiped his mouth, he simply nodded.

“He’s as good as dead.”

“What?!”

Without a second thought, you dashed up the stairs, not heeding Namjoon’s cries of dissent.

“Y/N, no, come back!”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

The guards were all clustered at the edge of the terrace, and they silently let you pass, letting you see the sight for yourself.

Kim Taehyung was sprawled out on the ceiling of the greenhouse, broken shards of glass jutting out of his body. The fall from the terrace had sent him crashing onto the glass. There was no support under his back, only the metal frames shielded him precariously from falling to his death.

His eyes had been flickering back and forth, waiting to see you. And when you came at last, a small smile graced his features. He was losing too much blood too fast.

“Y/N, come back.”

Namjoon was standing behind you, not minding the hot glares he drew from the guards. “It’s time. Come, let’s go.”

Taehyung’s mouth was twitching, and the glass had turned into red glinting blades with all the blood. His legs and hands were jerking uncontrollably, but his eyes never wavered from you.

You felt Namjoon’s hand on the small of your back.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, gently turning you away from the ghastly sight. He had taken one step forward, pulling your arm, when you shrugged free.

“No.”

Namjoon’s mouth set in a straight line. “What?”

“Get him help, please! I can’t leave him to die. I can’t!” you pleaded, your words tumbling out fast. “Please, just save him. Please.”

The guards looked at one another, and a man cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Kim, ma’am, we tried to help but Mr. Kim waved us away before you arrived.”

You snapped your head to bark at him:

“Now I’m telling you, get that man all the help he needs.”

Everyone rushed into action, until only Namjoon and you were the ones standing frozen on the terrace.

“Really, Y/N?” Namjoon said, disgusted. He barely tried to conceal the contempt in his tone.

You puffed up your chest and looked at Namjoon in the eye.

“Yes, really. I am not a killer. Neither are you.”

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

Namjoon’s doctor was stitching his eyebrow up when a nurse came looking for you.

“Is Mrs. Kim here?”

“Yes?”

You had to admit that you were terrified. Utterly terrified of what news she might be bringing.

“The surgeon will be briefing you about Mr. Kim’s surgery in a few minutes.”

“Yes, thanks. I’ll be there.”

Namjoon exhaled, nodding at his doctor. He took your hand, squeezing it tight.

“I’m with you. Y/N.”

You stared at him, remembering all the hot insults he had thrown at you over the years. He had been mean and cruel to you whenever you had chanced to meet him in social gatherings.

“How did you come? I thought you had pegged me as a gold-digging whore.”

Namjoon winced at your words. He had been wrong to judge you. But he was gracious enough to own up to his mistake.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I am sorry I behaved so badly. I was wrong and I am heartily ashamed of myself for not trusting you. I am sorry I didn’t honor Yoongi’s faith in you.”

You marveled at his fierce loyalty to Yoongi. Your husband would have been immensely proud of his friend.

“But how did you realize? I had no way of contacting you or anyone else.”

Namjoon nodded, agreeing. “Kang Minsook, the prosecutor, called me last year and told me that he had found about Bong Ju, Yoongi’s manager who went missing.”

He ruffled his hair, squinting at the window. “He said that there was something off about the whole case and told me that Bong Ju knew something more. But he was missing, there was no trace of Bong Ju anywhere.”

You didn’t interrupt, choosing to listen in silence. He went on.

“I hired a detective to find out Bong Ju’s whereabouts. I was notified that he was back in the city for a brief time, but he vanished again. But as it turned out, I needn’t have hired a detective after all.”

“What do you mean?” Your curiosity was thoroughly kindled.

“Bong Ju got in touch with Minsook, saying that he had found someone called Seung Jo in Malta. I learned that Seung Jo had once been your chauffeur and had mysteriously disappeared too.”

You felt blood rush to your cheeks on hearing the name. But you let him continue without interrupting.

“I went to Malta and got hold of Bong Ju. He told me he had gone there to find out about Seung Jo. I talked to Seung Jo and Bong Ju, and finally realized what Taehyung had been doing to you over these years.” He looked at you with soft eyes. “I am so sorry that you had to go through all that alone, Y/N.”

You were at a loss for words. So many emotions were pelting at you, making it hard to breathe.

“I…” you looked at the sincere face gazing at you. “It’s okay now, Namjoon. I am grateful that you came when you did.”

You didn’t have any grudges against him. You rubbed your nose and looked at the corridor teeming with elderly people.

“I have to go to Klammer and see Ma tomorrow.” Taehyung had kept you from visiting Yoongi’s mother for some reason only known to him.

The nurse returned, walking up to you briskly. “The surgeon is waiting, Mrs. Kim.”

Namjoon whispered softly, “Ready to go?”

You shook your head. “I- I don’t know.”

“Hey,” he said, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna be there with you, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You nodded, summoning a bit of courage from the universe.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──--

The surgeon looked stern, and you felt like you were going to be sick. Clutching Namjoon’s hand tight, you drew closer to the surgeon, heart hammering away so hard you thought you were dying.

“Mrs. Kim, the surgery went well, the patient is stable for now.”

Your breathing grew raspier.

“But…”

The nerve in your temple started pounding in fear.

“There was a complication, his spinal cord was damaged too much…”

Namjoon’s hand was going numb with how tightly you were gripping it.

“… and he stroked out in surgery, causing him to be paralyzed completely.”

The stunned silence hung around you like a smothering wet blanket, muffling everything else.

“Paralyzed? You mean he can’t-?”

“I’m truly very sorry, Mrs. Kim.”

Namjoon saw that you had gone mute, and he stepped in to ask the surgeon some questions.

“Can he talk?” you heard him ask, and the doctor shook his head.

“Speech therapy can help….”

You zoned out again, unable to take any more.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?” Namjoon asked, looking at the papers in your hand.

“Yes,” you beamed, smiling at him. “You are the best person to do this. I’ll join in and do my bit as the Chairperson, sure, but what the company needs right now is you. I know you have that fire in you, Namjoon.”

He smiled, his dimples popping out.

“I want the Min empire to return to its formal glory,” you said, passing the papers to him, “Before Min Ha Neul is of age and inherits it. She’s going to be the next Min to sit in her father’s office.”

Wo Bin had set up a therapy room in Taehyung’s mansion, overlooking the garden. You held the rails tightly, gazing at the butterflies flitting over the flowers.

Behind the one-way glass, Kim Taehyung was in his wheelchair, struggling with gripping his pen.

Ha Neul was tiptoeing on her tiny little feet, trying hard to reach the paints on the shelf. The nanny helped her lift the paint set, and she clapped her hands in delight.

“I’m so happy,” she squealed.

Her nanny smiled mildly. “Oh, really? And why is that?”

Ha Neul considered the question seriously.

“Daddy lets me paint his face.” She glanced sideways at Taehyung. “And he lets baby Jae sit on his lap.” She put her finger on her lips and beckoned her nanny to come closer. “I thought daddy hated me. He always shouted. He always went away.”

She stole a glance at her father again. “But now he is here all the time. And he doesn’t talk.” A huge gummy smile lit up her face. “And I paint his face.”

Taehyung had speech training all day. It was agony to fail at uttering the simplest of sounds. Whenever he tried to speak, it came out in a croak. The drool accompanying it humiliated him. He couldn’t bear to be reduced to such a state. He almost wanted to give up trying to speak, just to save himself the embarrassment of letting you see his spittle running down his chin.

Physical therapy took up a good chunk of his time too. His legs were completely paralyzed; but his hands had very limited movement. He couldn’t grip a cup, but he could hold a pen if he tried long enough.

“You can do it, Mr. Kim,” the therapist said, encouraging him to go on. “You already wrote so many letters, you can write one today too!”

Taehyung was screaming obscenities inside his head. He was able to write just one alphabet per day. Just one! The pen kept falling out of his stupid fingers, and he wanted to scream till he went crazy. It had taken him 7 days so far, to write something so simple.

The nib tore through the paper, bleeding some ink and smudging on the side of his palm. He had finally done it. He had produced a wobbly, crooked ‘U’.

The therapist took the paper like a proud parent, waving it in joy.

“You did it, Mr. Kim! That’s such a great job!”

Taehyung wanted to kick the man’s balls. All the exaggerated joy was making him paranoid. He wondered if the therapist was actually mocking him.

His eyes swung to the one-way glass, and he saw you deep in discussion with Kim Namjoon. There was a hatred burning inside him so hard that it seemed to roll off his skin in waves.

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

“So, Wo Bin is gonna be the next mafia kingpin, I hear,” Namjoon said. “I believe Taehyung already named him his successor.”

You shrugged. “I have no problem with him as long as he does his thing without poking into my life.”

Namjoon’s scar became wobbly as he raised his eyebrow. “You really don’t mind? The man’s a fricking clone of Taehyung.”

“Well, he considers Taehyung family. So, I guess he considers me family too. He is good with the kids at least.”

Namjoon’s phone buzzed, and he reached for it in one quick flash.

“Ha Ni?” you asked, referring to his girlfriend.

“Nope. Not Ha Ni. We broke up long ago. There’s no one, in fact.” His eyes were scanning his phone screen. A slow smile spread over his face. “Guess what?”

“What?” you asked, the energy catching on.

“Jung Hoseok just texted, he’s coming back with his wife and daughter. I sent Kang Minsook to help him out of all that tax fraud stuff, and he’s finally out of the mess.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t help the squeal of joy. “Oh my God, Joon that’s wonderful! Thank you so much!”

You threw your arms around him, squeezing him in a tight bear hug. Namjoon butted his forehead against yours, gazing at you fondly. On some impulse, he bent his head down, his plush lips brushing against yours.

Before they could touch properly, you pulled back, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, “I’m just- I’m not… I’m sorry”

Namjoon’s eyes were tender. “Hey, don’t worry. I understand.”

── ⋆✩⋆ ──-

Taehyung boiled in rage when he saw Namjoon bend his head to brush your lips. He looked at the paper rustling in front of him. It had taken him eight days. Eight fucking days to spell it out. The bitterness smoldered in his chest, spilling into the pupils of his eyes.

A rush of wind caused the paper to flutter, and it flew down to the floor. Taehyung’s eyes focused on the lopsided letters.

I LOVE YOU

His therapist snapped his head up from his position on the floor. He had been massaging Taehyung’s feet when he saw it happen.

Taehyung had just twitched and moved his left foot.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

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thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 4 years ago

Text

A goddamn blaze in the dark

The first time Emily sees Sue, the first thing she does is drop a cup of steaming hot coffee onto the floor, slip on it and land flat on her back behind the counter. And then she thinks — Oh. Found you.

To be fair, even without the pesky niggling at the back of her head, very helpfully pointing out that this was the girl, her soulmate, the love of her life, her forever and beyond, the sight of Sue would have knocked her down anyways. What else are you supposed to do when a pretty girl, dressed in tweed, with her hair tied up in a braid, walks into the coffee shop where you work with that smile on her face? That damned smile that doesn’t ask you so as much as inform you that you’re going to be haunted by it in your dreams tonight? With 10 am sunlight filtering in through the sides, casting half of her features in sharp, glorious light, Emily might as well have just signed away her breath for eternity.

Lavinia bends, looks her right in her eye from above her. “You’re in love, aren’t you?”

She wants to open her mouth to say something along the lines of – It's her! It’s her! What comes out, however is a garbled groan.

“Emily, buddy,” Austin rollerblades over to her, bends over her from the other side. “You gotta get up before there are complaints of unprofessionalism in the workplace.”

“Oh, because you’re the pinnacle of workplace niceties, I assume,” Lavinia shoots him a contemptuous look. “Only last week, wasn’t it? Those two young ladies in here fighting over who you were going to take to the mixer—”

“Guys,” she manages, before Austin can respond with something equally snarky, or god forbid, lascivious. “Is anyone minding the counter?”

And for exactly thirty seconds, the amount of time it takes Austin to slide over and ask for the orders of the disgruntled customers, and before she stretches out her arm and lets herself get pulled up to her feet, she hears a sweet voice enquire if everything’s quite alright back there. Emily closes her eyes, breathes it in, and wishes, not for the first time that hour, that she had her notepad near her to scribble a snippet of a poem that is now rapidly forming in her head.

*****

It is only sometimes that Sue looks at Emily and thinks that if Emily were to say the word, she would get down on her knees and hand over the entire world to her. Most of the time what she is thinking is goddamn it, Emily.

That’s what is going through her head as they’re kicked out of the lecture of the old man droning on about volcanoes. She can hear Emily giggling from behind her, and though her heart’s beating loud — the result of embarrassment and pure adrenaline — the sound makes her want to turn around and regard the idiot making it. So she does.

They’re alone in the deserted staircase; all the students, she guesses, are probably in that abysmally monotonous lecture. Emily leans against the banister, bent over at the waist from the sheer force of her mirth, and Sue takes it all in — her laugh, her gentle hands clutching at the wooden surface, and those intense, sparkling eyes looking right into hers. The next Goddamn it, Emily isn’t exasperated. It stays right there in her throat, accompanied by other, tender platitudes she’s never been brave enough to let herself say.

You’re beautiful. You make me ache inside.

(At night, Emily would talk to her about pressure, an acute force that demands to be released within her, and unable to help herself, the words — I think I know what a volcano feels like — would bubble up from her lips. And when Emily moves against her, a writhing mass of soft, bundled up wanting, Sue thinks she understands Pompeii a lot better as well; understands being frozen in time, brought to your knees by the sheer majesty of beauty and violence.)

*****

Listen, Emily has never claimed to be an expert on love.

(Austin has, on several occasions. Sauntered into the café, placed his elbow on the counter, and grinned roguishly. “Emily,” he’d started, once. “You know what the”—

“Is it that time of the month again?” Lavinia, who had been mopping up the floor, drawled. “Too much time since your last breakup but not quite enough that you can start going out with another girl and still maintain that image of the soft, sensitive manchild you’ve carefully cultivated. So you’re stuck in that weird limbo of no dates to go on, and subsequently are here to bore us.”

He’d chucked a tissue in her direction, continued smoothly. “As I was saying, do you, my dear Emily know what girls like best?”

“My sunny disposition?” she’d asked.

“No,” he replied flatly. “What girls want is someone who is cool. Indifferent. Somebody who displays absolutely zero interest in them. In fact—”

“That is horseshit,” Lavinia cut in.

Emily faux-gasped, continued leaning the espresso machine.

“Don’t you listen to him, Em. Girls like sweet, sensitive people who express an interest in wanting to get to know them.”

“I am an expert on women.”

“I am a woman!”

Emily half-listened to the sound of their bickering, and wished that she were a cat)

She considers both approaches briefly as she faces the girl, wondering why time hasn’t at least done them the decency of slowing down. It’s only polite, isn’t it, for the universe to cooperate when two eternal lovers meet. Emily has no justification as to why the universe should be so invested in the meeting of her and this woman who she’d decided was her intended, except it just makes sense.

(Intended. The word feels like it bears the weight of a hundred years. Like a woman back in the 19th century was whispering it to another woman she was in love with, as they lay in bed playing with each other’s hands.)

(It fits. She doesn’t care to find out why)

The girl opens her mouth. Emily holds her breath.

“You’ve got foam in your hair.”

The words — “It makes them bounce” — are out of her mouth before she can think. And then she wishes she’d picked up another cup of coffee in her hand so she could drop it on her head again.

Thankfully, the girl laughs. Rests both her elbows on the counter and assesses the menu above Emily’s head. Emily doesn’t mind the reprieve from eye-contact. There’s something about looking right at this.... angel, for lack of a better word, that makes breathing cumbersome. And yet there’s another part of her that wants to raise her arms above her head and bounce like a little child, all “Hey! Look at me! It’s me!”.

(It’s a very strange day)

“What would you recommend?”

“Me?” Emily startles a little. Turns back to the menu, then back to the girl. Blinks. “That depends on your name.”

“How does my coffee order depend on my name?” the girl sounds amused.

Emily shrugs. “Eh. It’s a process. Can’t give away all my secrets.”

There’s prolonged eye contact, again, before the answer comes. “Sue.”

It rings in her head. Sue. Sue. Sue. There’s no prettier word in the English language. Saying it over and over in her head feels like a prayer. She tells Sue to wait a moment, and then turns to make her a caramel freakshow, all the while acutely aware of eyes on her. Her clothes are drenched in coffee, and she’d picked out the most faded of her t-shirts to wear today. God only knows what she looks like from behind.

The drink is her very best effort, though. Topped with the best slices of fresh fruit, and she’s made the swirls on the cream topping extra carefully. “Coffee for,” she pauses, pushes at the glass gently till it’s on Sue’s side, “Sue.”

“Can I ask what’s in this.... concoction?”

“My hear—” Emily knows she’s turning red, and desperately look away. “Um, coffee?”

Sue fumbles in her bag, and she wrestles with the urge to say — “Nevermind, it’s on me!” — which would not be the wisest. Emily hates the idea of taking money from Sue, that too, for something as measly as a coffee. Probably because she knows that if Sue were only to ask once, she would make her coffee every day, unprompted.

(She cannot reiterate enough – It's a very strange day)

When Sue steps away, Emily feels loss. It’s an unusual nudge to her sternum, a tingle in her hands that wants her to call Sue back. Before she has the time to dwell on it too much, Sue does.

“Do I,” she starts, frowning a little “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Yes.

I can’t explain it but we know each other somehow, the same way artists know their muses, and flowers know their bees, and my hands know how to write poems — and maybe a hundred years ago you and I were neighboring trees in the woods, or two seeds in the same tangerine; I’m pretty sure my knowledge of your existence was probably coded in my blood.

“Do you?”

Sue seems to consider that for a while before shaking her head, and then walking over to take a seat by the window.

(And if she catches Emily stealing a glance every five minutes, she’s nice enough to not mention it)

*****

The day of her wedding is the happiest day of her life so far, and yet, the wedding has very little to do with it.

It’s a tiny, foolish fact that this is the first smile she sees on Emily after Ben’s tragic death, and yet, it makes her feel unreasonably pleased with herself. If her life were split into days she could see and touch Emily, and dreary days — the former were made significantly better if Emily smiled in them. Not to be dramatic, but the sun shines better, the skies glow prettier, and the ground is a little easier to run on.

Emily points out somewhere in the middle of their frolicking, for back of a better word, in the woods, that her dress is getting ruined. And then flings a flower onto her face. Goddamn it, Emily, she says, and then is struck dumb by the sound of her loud, exuberant laugh.

(And even quieter still when she holds the magnifying glass over the tiny piece of paper Emily had handed her earlier, the words washing over her like some tidal wave, drowning her in emotions too terrifying to admit. I held her hand the tighter, she reads and she smiles; Still in her Eye, the Violets lie, she reads and punctuates with a deep breath and when she reaches the end, the Sue – Forevermore, she’s aware of an awful keening in her throat, of the sob waiting to make its way out. Emily, Emily, her heart sings, and she is sure it will never shut up again)

She thinks of Emily the whole time, through the vows and the subsequent cheers, as they make their way into the house; thinks of her when Austin holds her tight and tells her that he loves her. A quiet voice, the sound of her guilt crawls up from inside her to tell him that she loves him too. She may be his in name, but her heart isn’t hers to give away anymore.

*****

Seven. That’s how many days she steals glances at Sue in the library before they talk again.

Monday, 9 am: The librarian’s just gotten started with her morning coffee, which means that Emily can sneak her own breakfast past her bleary eyes without being detected. She gets the books that she wants off the shelf, makes her way to her usual chair at the very back of the room and settles in. Her bag gets hooked to her chair by the straps, the tiny diary, her faithful companion, finds a place beside the humongous book, and the coffee sits next to her breakfast burrito. After the entire process is done, she stretches her legs, leans back, looks up and freezes.

Sue is seated on a nearby desk, staring at her.

Emily looks away, on reflex. Her heartrate’s up, and her palms suddenly feel clammy. She takes a deep breath, takes in the floor, and tells herself she’s seeing things. Surely, there’s no way the girl of her dreams also goes to her college and it absolutely isn’t possible that she’s sitting in front of her, in the flesh. She readies herself, looks again.

Sue’s still looking at her, now amused as well.

Well. There go her studies.

Tuesday, 8:50 am: Her plan is foolproof. There is no way she will be caught off guard again. She will be first to the library this time, and she will be prepared when Sue walks in, ready to impress her with her overall charm and chill-ness. There will — not — be a repeat of yesterday when she’d spent the better part of two hours hyperventilating, stealing secret looks or straight up going red every time Sue caught her eye and smiled at her.

The librarian hasn’t even started eating yet. Her head’s resting on the desk, and her eyes are tiny slits, when Emily runs in, makes her way to her own seat. Sue’s seat is empty, thankfully.

(Emily totally does not punch the air in celebration, startling a few other sleepy students)

She stretches out her arms, places them behind her head and waits.

And then jumps about a feet in the air when a hand brushes her shoulder.

There are multiple things happening all at once — the gentle hand resting on her shoulder for a moment, a hand whose warmth she instinctively recognizes as being a familiar one, despite never having felt it before (she knows it’s her. There’s no other option. Nothing else could make the skin at the back of her neck prickle in anticipation), a faint, teasing whisper of “I thought we weren’t allowed to eat in here”, and the realization that her plan has woefully failed.

(Why, then, does she feel so happy about it?)

Sue passes by, turning back once to shoot her a quick grin, and then settles into her usual chair, opening the book already present on the desk in front of her.

Emily’s jaw stays on the floor. The state of her heart stays up in the air.

Wednesday, 9:00 am: Sue opens the note Emily’s just chucked her, reads it, and smirks.

Emily waits. It had been an impetuous decision to scribble “Waffle?” onto a scrap of paper she’d torn out of her notebook, when Sue had looked at her earlier, but it’s alright. These are matters of the heart, and matters of the heart require at least 25 percent an attitude of ‘Ah, fuck it’, another 25 percent of run-of-the-mill stupidity, and 45 percent the ability to laugh at your own shenanigans.

Oh, and about 6 percent bad math.

She catches the crumpled-up note that comes sailing through the air in return and opens it up. “I was taught not to accept food from strangers”, is written in beautiful cursive, along with a smiley face.

(A smiley face. A smiley face!)

Thursday, 9:10 am: She writes — “You know, I am named after one of the best American poets, and your name coincides with the name of her ultimate love and muse. Some would say we’ve known each other a long time” — and slides it over to Sue, heart in her throat.

Twenty seconds later, the sound of Sue’s clear laughter rings out in the otherwise quiet place, and Emily is so enchanted she nearly falls off her chair.

(She hands off half of the breakfast burrito to Sue when she passes by to grab another book, and Sue’s grateful smile just about makes her day)

Friday, 9:00 am: The book she usually grabs to pore over is already sitting on the desk in front of her usual chair. After Emily’s done waving hi to Sue, and has settled down, she notices the tiny flap of paper poking out of the first page. Tucked in the corner is a tiny note.

“As an English major, this is your game, isn’t it? Using words to impress people? :P”

It doesn’t take her long to compose a reply.

“First of all, how dare you? Second, is it working?”

Sue covers her face with her hands when she opens it. Emily counts it as a win.

Saturday, 8:50 am: The poor boy who has been sitting in the next row all week finally loses it after they’ve exchanged their fifteenth et of notes for the day.

“Can you people, like, just text like the rest of us, for fuck’s sake?”

When the rest of the people surrounding them nod in agreement, Emily sinks into her chair, catches Sue’s equally embarrassed gaze from across the room, and resists the urge to laugh like an idiot.

Sunday, 10 am: The morning’s been hell.

Austin had been panicking about some test he had on Monday, and so she’d come in to help out at the café, early morning. Between quizzing him on his flashcards and making sure every customer had a full cup in front of them, Emily completely lost track of time until Lavinia dragged her apron off her.

“What?” she’d asked, bewildered.

The clock was pointed out to her.

(No, she does not leave an outline of her body behind when she dashes out of the café. There is, however, a mad moment when she’s pretty sure her legs are scrambling with her body still at rest. It is pretty comical nonetheless)

From the entrance she sees a couple of things on her desk, and is a little miffed. Clearly, somebody else has claimed this prime spot with a vantage point from where she could stare at the most interesting woman in the world all day. And yet, she approaches it, because the chair is empty.

The book catches her eye first. It’s a copy of Hope is the thing with feathers by her namesake, and it’s got a note with a familiar handwriting peeking out of the top. She reads, delighted, a haiku about fruit and tenderness that’s been scribbled on it. And then she gets to what’s lying next to the book — what seems to be a sandwich, wrapped carefully in foil. She touches it. It’s cold, as though it’s been waiting there a while.

The smile on her face is definitely a permanent fixture now, she decides, as she walks over to where Sue is sitting and pretending to not look over. Her heart’s tripping over with delight, with gratitude with something tender that she’s absolutely sure she hasn’t felt before. Hope is the thing with feathers, indeed and it is perched in her soul. She pulls out the chair next to hers, and sits down.

“Thank you,” she says, quietly, and swears to god she can hear the entire table go Fucking finally — before Sue shoots her a small smile.

*****

“Only you would show up at a party looking like a raccoon,” she tells Emily, exasperated.

(And enamored. And besotted. Emily makes an adorable raccoon)

“I’m not here for the party — I’m here for you,” Emily shoots back, defiant. “As long as I can still see, I wanna look at you.”

And oh, there it is. There’s the Emily she knows, saying words that slide into her chest as easily as their hands go together. Words are Emily’s deadliest weapons, and she wields them to inflict sheer havoc.

Isn’t that just it, though? Emily has no idea. No idea what it does to her to have her this close — with their foreheads pressed to each other’s, their noses a whisper away, with Emily surrounding her, taking every one of her senses and carving her name on them. Sue feels a hand on her hair, then on her cheek, and knows she’s this close to losing any bit of self-control she might have had.

She steps away, composes herself, and thinks, Shakespeare was right. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

*****

“You might as well have ditched us,” Lavinia grumps.

“What?” Emily blinks, momentarily distracted from whatever text she was in the middle of shooting off to Sue. “Oh.”

“Not cool, dude,” Austin chimes in from the other side. They’re smushed into the couch together, planted in front of the screen where some 80s movie is on. It’s a weekend, which means movie nights filled with chicken wings and some dreadful drink that Austin’s invented that he calls the Faustinator, because.... reasons, apparently. And Emily’s just now realizing that she has no idea what the movie even is because she’s spent most of her time texting Sue. “You’re texting your sweetheart lameass cringy shit.”

“How do you know what I’m texti— Austin, stop reading over my shoulder!”

(She conveniently ignores the sweetheart thing. It’s easier than the alternative, which would be to dwell too much on the possibility of Sue being her sweetheart, and Emily being Sue’s and oh — she can feel herself smiling again.)

“Believe me, it isn’t easy on me,” he snarks. “Two months of talking our heads off about Sue, Sue, Sue and free drinks for Sue, Sue, Sue and pining over—”

“It has not been that long!”

“Lavinia?” he asks.

“Two months, two weeks and four days,” Lavinia tells her, flatly. “That’s how long we’ve had to hear about how you know her and that you’re convinced she is the love of your life.”

“I do.... know her,” she trails off, uncertain. It’s one matter to think it and feel it, like she’s felt the absurd familiarity in her bones every time she hears Sue’s voice, or Sue touches her skin, and sets it on fire. Another matter entirely to set about explaining it. Plus, other, unrelated things, like how reading Emily Dickinson’s poems feel like a friendly little nudge someone’s giving her, an inside joke, or why sometimes she feels so, so much that she would burst if she didn’t write that very moment.

“She walks you to class most days from the library.”

“And she’s been coming to the café every other day, and listening to you rant about random things,” Austin chimes in.

“Didn’t she write Emily a couple of poems as well?”

“Hey, that’s,” she starts, pauses, smiles. “Yeah. I, uh, told her nobody had ever written me anything before, and she — she’s really sweet.”

“Honey,” Lavinia says, gently, “the woman’s in love with you.”

“Oh-kay!” Emily jumps up from the couch and announces her intention to get more popcorn. And the pokes her head out from around the corner, and asks, in the tiniest voice.

“Really?”

Two chips come flying in her direction, and then they can’t stop laughing.

*****

There’s a kind of truth in the life she lives when she’s alone; no one to defer to, no one to explain to why she doesn’t want children or why, even after a couple of months of a blissful wedlock with Amherst’s most eligible ex-bachelor, the smile slides off her face as easily as the fruit punch in her parties off the plates. And then there’s the second kind that has to be dragged out of her — with heaving breath and shaking hands and salt dripped out of her eyes. Honesty that scalds and tears up her inside as it makes its way out of her.

(It’s a particular bit of irony in the fact that Emily is both the cause, and the only one who ever gets to witness the fallout, of the second one)

“Emily, I love you.” she says, like Emily’s put her arms down her throat and is ripping the words out of her. “I love you, and, and I felt you in the library — because you’re always with me.”

There’s a moment of complete, utter silence, when she stares at Emily and Emily stares back at her and the space between them is filled with the distance of lies and fury — and then they crash together. It’s an impossible push and pull, and Sue feels, for the first time in weeks, this complete surrender, abandon of all inhibition. Love tastes like Emily, and it feels like drowning and sounds like the tiny noise Emily makes when they part, like she can’t stand to be away even a second longer. All of what she knows about love is Emily.

If Sue could write, this is what she’d put down on paper: the feel of Emily’s neck beneath her hand, the way she melts when Sue wraps an arm around her. This yearning to be closer, the hunger to consume and the reluctance towards stopping. She wants, so badly to do Emily the same honor of immortalizing her in the form of words — she deserves it. The world deserves to know how she felt about this.... miracle, this angel in her arms. More than anything else, Emily deserves to know how Sue feels about her.

She turns to her side, kisses Emily’s hand once, twice. “I will never let go of you again.”

*****

Life is an endless sea of pain.

“Emily, she’s just a girl,” Austin tells her, then immediately flinches as Lavinia whacks him on the head.

Emily wipes away the moisture from her face with the sleeve of her favorite oversized hoodie, sniffles, and sticks her spoon in the tub of ice-cream again.

“Not to pry,” Lavinia starts, hesitantly, “but we still have no idea what happened. You came running into my room a week ago and haven’t stopped crying since. I guess — I guess we just want to know what’s up.”

Emily sighs. “It’s Sue.”

Austin blinks at her. “Yeah I — I mean, we know that.”

She thinks back to Sunday morning when she’d come upon her favorite restaurant while out on a run. The sight of Sue, sitting there with some.... dude. It was a cozy booth, and the way the guy seemed to be smiling in Sue’s direction couldn’t be construed as anything but romantic.

“A date?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re telling us this is because you thought Sue was on a date?”

What wasn’t clicking? “Sue was on a date. There were flowers on the table and everything.”

“And that’s why you haven’t been returning her calls or texts? And have expressly forbidden us to tell her where you are when she comes into the café, like, everyday?”

Emily shifts. “Yes?”

Lavinia whacks her on the head.

“Ow,” Emily groans. “What’s with all the violence?”

“Oh, stop it, you big baby. Now,” she took a deep breath, and Emily knew instinctively a huge lecture was incoming, “let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Is there any point in refus—”

“No. So, you like this girl, and it seems like she likes you too. But you refuse to do anything about it, like, you know, maybe admitting it to her. Then, you come upon her having lunch with some random dude and you assume it’s a date, and then freak out about it and cut her off.”

“But I’m pretty sure it was a date!”

“Fine! Okay! It was a date! So what? You expect her to hang around waiting for you to get your shit together, what, forever? And what if she doesn’t like you, god, Emily! I—”

“Okay, okay, wait!” she cuts in, holds up a hand to gather her thoughts. “I — I get what you’re saying, okay? I really do.”

“I know I have no right to be angry. She doesn’t owe me anything — I just. I dunno. I thought we had something. But even if that wasn’t the case,” she scrambles to add, “I guess I’m just taking pre-emptive action. To not get hurt. I can’t stick around and watch her fall in love with someone else, okay? I just. I can’t.”

Austin pats her on the back, and she sinks into his arm. This, of all things, is true. There are a multitude of things in life she has had to bear, and that she has borne, but this — watching Sue slowly fall in love with someone else, would be unbearable.

She has another spoonful of ice cream. “I’m being an asshole, aren’t I?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Lavinia agrees. “But give yourself a break — you’re in love. It turns everyone a little bonkers.”

“It’s fucked.”

“No!” Austin and Lavinia tell her, together, before Lavinia continues, “Listen, I think you should talk to Sue.”

“Pretty sure she hates me now.”

“If she does, then go and face it. Honestly, though, I think you owe it to her, and also to yourself, to explain your side of things.”

“I’d literally rather die.”

“Then go do your dying in the fucking library. It’s almost ten, anyways.”

*****

She can still feel Emily’s teeth on her collarbone, can still wrap an arm around herself and trace the marks Emily’s fingers have left on her, when Sue announces that she’s trying to write a poem.

Emily throws off the sheets from her body, and turns so their heads are close. Sue’s sitting at the end of the bed, wrapped in sheets herself, eyes closed. She opens them when Emily’s nose nudges against her cheek.

“You are?” she asks, hand already playing with Sue’s hair, and Sue nods. “What’s it about?”

Sue cannot stop herself rolling her eyes. “Guess.”

“Is it,” Emily asks, teasingly, “about me?”

“Maybe.”

There’s a delighted gasp from her paramour, and she can feel a small kiss pressed to her temple. “I want to read it.”

“Only when it’s done.”

“And when will it be done?”

She turns to look right at Emily now. “I’m not sure it ever will.”

When Emily kisses her — every time Emily kisses her, Sue adds a line to the poem in her head. She’s running out of words to express joy, passion and beauty, at this point.

“The romance of it all,” Emily remarks, pretending to swoon. “This way I will live on through your words as well, after I die.”

Sue frowns, feels her lips automatically pull down at the corners. “No talking about death.”

“But we will die, darling,” Emily explains, patiently. “I can only hope that I die first.”

“How — how dare you?” she asks, indignant. “I’m going to try my very best to be the one to go.”

(That one spurs an argument that goes on four rounds before either of the participants admit defeat)

“How about,” Emily starts, ponderously. “Whoever dies first comes back around the next time and finds the other?”

Sue can’t stop the smile. The thought is so whimsical, it drives their previous non-argument right out of her head.

“You think we’ll come back someday, years after our deaths?”

“Try and stop me,” Emily declares, fondly. “Susan Gilbert, I will always — always find you.”

Sue closes her eyes, feels Emily’s lips ghost over her cheek and tries to imagine the thought of the two of them, years from now, sitting side by side, hand in hand. Breathes deeply to stop the sudden onslaught of tears the image evokes.

“My foolish sweetheart,” she says, after she’s composed herself. “I love you.”

This is what she’ll put in words — Emily next to her, head tilted downwards, turned towards her. In about a minute, she’ll start complaining of the blood rushing to her brain, and Sue, exasperated, will tell her to sit straight. She’ll write about the light that falls on the edge of Emily’s nose, the one crooked tooth all the way in the corner, the tiny scar on her brow. About the way their hands lock into each other’s, how there’s a space on her neck made perfectly in the mould of Emily’s head — two girls, sitting next to each other, together into an eternity, and beyond.

*****

The first time Emily sees Sue after a week-long absence, she’s just run into the library and crashed into a nearby bench, thus bringing down a student, two books, and herself. She gets up almost immediately, sees Sue staring at the sight of her, wide-eyed, and thinks — Oh. Found you.

There’s an empty seat next to Sue, and on the desk lies an apple. Emily approaches her, and touches the back of her shoulder lightly.

“Can I sit here?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” Sue answers, not looking at her. “Can you?”

Emily has to bite at her lip to keep in the wild laughter that threatens to erupt. It’s not just the quip, either. It’s Sue — seeing her after these many days of zero contact feels like a drug, and she breathes it in, greedily. She pulls the chair out, and sits down on it.

“So,” she starts, then trails off.

“So,” Sue mimics, not unkindly.

“It may have been brought to my attention that I’ve been a bit of an idiot.”

“Only a bit?” Sue raises an eyebrow, leans back where she’s sitting.

Well. “More than a bit,” she amends. “I’ve been an idiot. A dumbass. An utter fool. A rake. A rogue of the highest order.”

Sue tells her she agrees. Then — “You wanna tell me why?”

“I saw you and, um, some guy. On your date that day over at the Plantain Leaf?”

Sue stares. For the longest time. “You ghosted me for a week because you saw me out to lunch with a guy? Emily that is so—”

“I know!” she says, then gets shushed by the people sitting around them. She consciously lowers her voice when she speaks next. “I know, Sue. I was being an asshole, I just — felt complicated about.... things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah. Like — feelings. And stuff.”

She sees Sue stifle a smile, and feels a little bit of life come back into her hands.

“What about your feelings?”

“Well,” Emily says, pauses, then comes out with a masterpiece of an explanation, “I have them.”

Then covers her face with her hands, because why? It hasn’t even been ten minutes, and she’s already started messing things up.

“I mean — I have feelings. For you.”

She chances a look up at Sue, after a minute of that incredibly earth-shattering revelation, and stays held in place by the intensity of her gaze. Sue’s eyes are soft, large, and Emily wants to do something stupid, like bury her face in her hands again.

“You do?” Sue asks her, in the tiniest voice possible. Like she can’t believe it. Like Emily has done an awful job of wearing her whole heart out on her sleeve the past couple of months.

“Yeah,” she replies, and finds her voice is equally tiny. “Good ones.” The kind that have me convinced we knew each other a couple decades ago, that I have heard your voice in my dreams all my life, that I’ve been waiting for you for turn a corner and walk into my life this whole while. And if not this time, I’ll wait a couple decades more for you to love me back. “And it’s okay if you’re dating that guy, I just — I thought you should know. That’s all.”

Sue lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not dating Sam.”

Oh.

So turns out Emily had been holding her breath.

Ants are crawling all over her body. To combat them, Emily picks up the object nearest to her, which happens to be the apple.

“Is that for me?”

Sue nods. “You owe me the six sandwiches I got you this entire week,” she adds, teasingly.

Elation fills Emily until she imagines she’s probably floating a few inches above the ground, buoyed by this tiny admission of caring on Sue’s part. Whoever had said all those things about love had been right. It really was.... something different altogether.

“You’re telling me you sat here and read Emily Dickinson all week, waiting for a girl to show up?”

A light blush lights up Sue, and she leans forward a little bit. “Not just a girl,” she tells her, seriously. “I waited for Emily, who was named after this poet whose work I’ve really come to like. Emily, who I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with.”

Oh dear God.

They’re closer together now, their heads almost touching; Emily imagines them in a world of their own, separate from the rest of this library. She pretends to scoff.

“What? You don’t think a lot of Emily?”

“I think I can write better,” she declares.

“You think you can—” Sue starts, then lets out a laugh. “Emily, shut up.”

And then they’re suddenly kissing, and each and every cell in Emily gathers somewhere near her chest to rejoice together, every beat of her heart falls and arranges in the shape of a song, and time just kind of. Slows down. Pauses. Stops.

Emily thinks she knows what a volcano feels like, now. When she’ll go home, later, she’ll sit at her writing desk, pen down a poem about lovers and hands and two women sitting with their heads close together; maybe put in a fruit or two. And tiny pieces will come together in her head, just like the ones in her chest that crumble every time Sue looks at her.

But right now, she closes her eyes, feels poetry on her lips, and it is good enough.

#dickinson #emily dickinson #emisue #fanfiction #dickinson fanfic #i'm done! finished it!#now - do i feel weird about writing about two real people wo existed albeit a long time ago? yes #but i'm justifying it in my head somehow because the show is just so whack #either way - here's 6k words of dickinson brainrot that i had promised myself i would finish before my birthday #and i did it with a few days to spare #so yeah #happy reading?????#also - i have a dickinson playlist that i listened to while writing this #so if youre somehow reading the tags and wanna check that out lemme know :)

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