#leave it to killer to find a way to get on horror's nerves all the time. thank god dust is much less pissy than horror 🙏

[triglycercule]

horror's jacket fluff has probably accumulated so much DISGUSTINGNESS over 7 years in it that it's managed to acquire it's own signature Dog Smell (TM). however i think this would be a prime opportunity to pet him and then get some of that disgusting smell on you because for some reasons Dog Smell is just unavoidable when you pet a dog with a lot of hair

he'd hate it but awww awww whos a good boy (ﾉ´∀｀*) whos a good boy (*≧∪≦) YOU ARE!!! awww so cute you didn't commit all those murders against innocent people you were innocent (￣▽￣)／ such a good boy!!!! (gets beheaded) (he got too embarrassed)

[derangedanomaly]

how about Bad sanses x Artist male reader?

Yay! Sure thing :D

BAD SANSES X MALE!ARTIST READER

(Nightmare, Killer, Dust, Horror, Cross, Error)

Nightmare:

Nightmare was the last one to find out about your hobby, and that's just because he's too busy to notice. :(

He was about to tell you about some important mission, when he bumped into you drawing a portrait of him.

He couldn't even speak at that time, he was so... confused. But also felt prideful you were drawing him.

Definitely takes it to his room so he could stare at it longer.

"You have a great talent Y/n, such a beauty should be hanged so it could be admired by many." Himself. He was talking about himself. "Do you mind if I took it with me on the way out?"

If you answer positively, he'll just take it. No questions asked. But if you answer negatively... he'll just steal it behind your back. 💀

Look, he just really likes whatever stuff you draw, and the fact you drew him, awoken something in him. He needed to take the portrait with him! (Bro is thirsty as hell 😂)

In all seriousness though, he really admires your skills. Even though he never really says it.... The portrait you drew of him is his motivation, which he also won't admit. Since positivity doesn't do him any good....

Killer:

Loves to watch when you draw. But wait...you thought he was looking at what you're drawing? Nah.. he's looking at YOU.

In his words, he finds you more breathtaking then any artwork. But it's not like he doesn't like your drawings! He loves them, he just loves you more. ;)

He thinks your face looks really mesmerizing while you're drawing.

Sometimes likes to give you 'some tips'. (Don't listen to him, his tips are actually really bad 😨)

"Use black for shading, it's gonna look amazing! I'm speaking from experience." He's not. Literally has zero experience, just said that so he would impress you. 💀

Sometimes sneaks up on you and runs away with your art supplies. (Annoying as hell.)

Overall a pain in the ass most of the time, but he's your ass. 😂

Dust:

Admires your talent, and wants to know everything about it. 'What things do you usually draw? What type of artist are you? Can you show him some of your artwork?' he's actually so cute...

After he learned about your talent, he returned day after to your sleeping quarters, and showed you his new knowledge, about your hobby, last night.

Also gives you tips, but unlike Killer, Dust's are actually useful.

You actually learn many new things/tricks that you never knew about!

He's a total sweetheart, keeps checking on you to make sure you won't get lost in your hobby too much. He knows how easy artist's get taken lost in their artwork and don't sleep or eat.

If you'd ask him to model for you, he would in a heartbeat. But it would probably be the most boring pose ever.

Hands in his pockets and shit. 😂

Gets irritated by Killer's wrong tips, and immediately leaves the room once he starts spitting them. He just can't stand the stupid bullshit Killer says every time. 💀

Horror:

"Oh, you can draw? Can you draw food too?" Was his first question when you told him about your hobby.

He's always hovering over you when you draw, which can be nerve-wracking at times...

So to get him distracted, you suggested that he could draw with you. After thinking your question over, he decided to try it out, so he agreed.

After this, he found out that drawing with you made him relaxed....so he made it his daily activity with you!

He doesn't mind how his drawing looks like a child drew it compared to yours. He isn't really competitive when it comes to these type of things.

He just likes spending time with you ^^

Likes to ask tons of questions. (He finds your voice soothing)

Overall, he just found his excuse for spending time with you! (And a way for him to relax)

Cross:

Your hobby reminds him of Ink... which he shudders at and... avoids you for awhile. 😢

But you could always sense that he, more than once, glanced at your art.

After getting over his emo sappy phase, he finds the courage to talk to you again.

Wants to compliment you so bad, because it actually looks great, but he's just...shy.

He doesn't know much about your hobby, so he won't give much tips. But if you ask him for an honest opinion, then you can count on that!

He's just a sweet little guy 🥰

Error:

His immediate response to your hobby is just: "Oh great...another Ink!"

He isn't exactly 'thrilled' about it. But he doesn't mind it, as long as you don't bond with Ink over it. (Jealous)

Doesn't know much when it comes to creation, but he likes to knit next to you while you draw. It brings you two closer! ^^

Definitely defends you though when someone insults your artwork. Deems that it's just cause you both enjoy artistic hobbies. (Knitting and drawing) but he's really just a big fan of you and your awesome abilities!

If you need any art supplies, they would already be waiting for you on your desk by tomorrow morning. (Stole them from Ink 💀)

Doesn't like it when you're being pessimistic about your skills. He thinks you're awesome as hell!! Why're you bringing yourself down?

He's overall just happy to be able to peacefully enjoy his hobby next to someone he can trust. (Cutie patootie ❤️❤️)

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

You know what pisses me off about this all PheeJin stuff. It's taken over.

No matter what happens having TaCopper be such a huge part of the anticipation, them being promoted so heavily as a ship with this series was a mistake.

About 50% of all the comments under the BTS videos and reddit posts are about PheeJin.

Either that they love the ship, or the actors, or they are mad the writers "ruined" Jin by confirming he was the one that leaked the video.

Side note: Everyone seems to be pretty much treating the confession as confirmation. So do I. It would be a stupid as fuck writing decision to have Jin be not the person that realeased the video and confess to it anyway.

Instead of focusing on the show's themes like this excellent post outlines by @syrena-del-mar or even the topics of sex and voyerism like this post by @shannankle or another post I can't find discussing the way the show subverts the tipical way sex is punished in horror. EDIT: @shannankle found the post and linked it in the notes it was from @brifrischu with addition from @lurkingshan. Or even just enjoying the theorizing like this post by @mikuni14 or this one by @tbhimnoteasyonmyself. Most of the fans (again other places I am not looking at the tag here on tumblr) are mostly discussing Jin, PheeJin and whining that Tan is a killer and lost his mind.

Also not saying anything about the Jin fans on Tumblr I am not going in the tag for a reasons. But a lot of PheeJin shippers and Jin fans on other sites are using words I fucking hate to describing New and it's starting to low-key piss me off. All the: he lost his mind, he is derenged (i also saw lost his mind like his brother - which you know ew) it's getting on my last nerve and I would appriciate if we could be a little lighter with that kind of language please.

It sucks that such a great show now wrote itself into this conrner where it only has two options: Stick to the genre and revenge plot, have team masked killer win (and kill Jin and Phee if he is indeed a traitor); everyone is dead, depressing ending no one is happy; or Phee and Jin succed in bringing down "crazy" killer New, we get some nice violence is not the answear after school message and Phee and Jin live happly ever after.

The first two will make the fans crazy, and we know the BOC shipper fans are on all other level of insane. And the third will leave the rest of us with a show that detroyed his own message for the sake of a ship, AGAIN (might I add, ofts fans will know the struggle). Leaving the show bad reviews and claim outrage because TaCopper wasn't endgame and they got ruined.

And let me very clear, If I have too see the well-off/rich character all alive while the poor characters all die and get called crazy because they dared take revenge and be angry at their mistreatment. I will actually consider this the worse BL ending ever. That will piss me off more then the Last Twilight ending ever did.

[evita-shelby]

They didn't know we were seeds

chapter 24

cw: murder, past sexual assault, eugenics, mentions of minor primal kink, drugging, prostitution and abuse

taglist: @justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings

Eva stares at the white rose bush as if she could see the future in its perfect white petals. In less than two weeks they had planned this and only time would tell if they would pull it off.

“If the business with the pigs gets resolved today, I’ll come back for Laurie. Jack’s new badge worked.” Eva half-lies to her aunt who doesn’t pry despite seeing through her.

Laurie was at school and would be cared for by her aunt who had become accustomed to her niece’s lying.

The Rebel knows she has the calming pills the Doctor has given her for her anxiety, but she refuses to take them like she refuses the tequila calling her name. She needs to be completely sober for this, there is no room for failure.

If they fail.

Eva doesn’t want to even think what sort of fresh horrors will be unleashed if they do.

The weather will take a turn for the worse up north. The Victor’s Village is more at the center with a warmer and wetter climate, doesn’t get much snow if any like the southern villages where it’s never cold only in the mountains in the southwest. But the north was unpredictable, hot sun or blistering colds.

Bad weather means Jack can stay longer, means coffee for two and Laurie sandwiched between the two of them because his daddy is never home that long.

This time it means Campbell’s shit out of luck.

The wild hogs would eat him in the ruins between 2 and 10, Beetee would ensure the footage showing him coming here would be erased even if it wouldn’t be on the books either way. His lackeys would be blamed but they were so like him the world would be better with them dead too.

For extra measure the fence in 10 would be broken to allow the wild animals to come here and give them an alibi. The herd closest to them had gone as far as the river that began in 2 and ended in 11, who knows where the proof of his demise will end up.

All she has to do is to meet Jack in town, pretend nothing is going on and lead Campbell to the farm.

Except in the riot gear, Eva has no idea which faceless man is him.

This time she is not armed with her brass knuckles and steel toe boots; this time she carries a knife in her sleeve.

They were to meet near the cantina where the peacekeepers used to loiter around and now are forbidden from setting foot there. But they still went, in plain clothes and often just paying the prostitutes there for their usual services in the alley or the abandoned apartment next to it.

No matter how heavy Campbell’s boot is on their necks, life goes on.

Eva pays for a bottle of whiskey ---for Jack who prefers it--- drinks a shot of tequila for her nerves and finds not one, but two Peacekeepers tailing her when she leaves the bar.

One was Jack, one was Campbell’s lackey.

Only Jack would know where to meet her, so she weaves her way through the back alleys she knows better than them and reaches the meeting point only to be caught by the arm by one of them.

The Victor in her panic reveals the knife and places its edge in the only unarmored part of the uniform: the officer’s neck.

“You have no idea how that turns me on.” Jack’s all-too-familiar voice provides a dizzying sort of relief.

“It’s you.” The woman drops her knife with a relieved sight and rolled her eyes at her husband.

“Make sure you have your pills; I’m going to fuck you until the cows come home once this is over.” Jack enjoys games, the instinct of a born hunter combined with being a professional killer since his tweens somehow resulted in a man who likes chasing her around town with the intention of fucking as a reward. If they were to be put in an arena again, he’d probably find it as arousing as he finds being held at knifepoint by her.

“Your mother will be there, aren’t you worried she might hear us?” she asks handing him the bottle of whiskey she had intended to smash against his head had he been the other man.

“Not if we do it in the barn again.” He takes off his helmet, knowing her discomfort won’t end unless she can see his face and reveals that grin she could see the moment he opened his trap. “Are you ready for the fun part, doll?”

Atia Nelson was no stranger to waiting.

Whether it was waiting to finish her degree, waiting for the pregnancy test to come back positive and waiting twelve years to learn the names of her birth parents.

Atia Nelson was no blood relation to the Plinths nor Servilla’s sister, who adopted her after her biological children were disposed of by Strabo Plinth’s heir, Coriolanus Snow.

Something rather obvious given Servilla descends from the same ethnic group those in 10 do and Atia has hair as red as their district color. Something that disqualified her from the inheritance Snow was supposed to split with Strabo’s nephews by marriage and kept her alive after the uninvestigated deaths of Junius, Balbos and Attius.

Atia was born to a prostitute frequented by Peacekeepers both grunts and officers alike and because Pompeia couldn’t afford to raise any of the children she had, gave her up at birth.

She was the youngest, the last of many redhaired children whose fathers were unlisted in their birth certificates and appeared in the same orphanage in the main city. No one knows what happened to Pompeia after Atia was born and adopted by Selene Nelson and until Atia Nelson turned twelve years old, she didn’t even know her name.

Pompeia Ockerman had only an unmarked grave and a reputation. Her beauty had made her a sought-after commodity for the men recruited into Peacekeeper Corps and her poverty easy to exploit.

Atia’s father was an officer from an old family in the Capitol, and when Pompeia begged him to claim his own child, he left her in the dust because the law forbids capitol citizen to recognize a child or marry someone from the districts, so the line above father will always remain empty.

Castrum ‘Chester’ Campbell believed it was her whore mother’s blood that tainted Jack and resulted into becoming a petty criminal whe should have been culled before he was born.

‘But what was there to expect when his mother followed in Pompeia’s footsteps?’ he had sneered at her because children born from a Capitol citizen and a District citizen were seen as abominations to his ilk and every fuck up in her life seen as inevitable thanks to it.

As if being born from the so-called right stock didn’t make Campbell anything less than a monster.

And just like the men who exploited Pompeia because they could, he convinced her the only way her boy could have his charges dropped was if she submitted to him.

She never told her children, not even her mother and her then girlfriend. But Jack had seen the bruises, seen the fear in her eyes and the night before his reaping he promised no one would ever hurt them again.

And now Atia Nelson waits for Chester Campbell to come into the farmhouse expecting to lay a trap for her son.

He comes alone, a mistake on his part. After all, this was just to provide the proof for the crime and take the glory for himself.

“Been long time, hasn’t it?” Atia smiles and bids him to join her for tea.

“Fifteen years and now the defect has bred a different sort of abomination. Must run in his blood.” He sits, the gun inside his coat loaded and within reach knowing she isn’t easy prey. Not like last time. “The boy will die on his twelfth year just like your other grandchild did.”

He drinks the tea, a sleeping tea Eva brewed strong enough to put him under and leave him to die near dried up river between their districts. It would taste the same as any of her homebrewed teas and so he drinks the magnolia tea not knowing Atia has crushed a sedative in it just for him.

The sedative lasts about eight hours, she’s used them since that night Campbell raped her and after the Games took Jack's peace of mind, her Laurie and sweet little Gina from her, she hasn’t stopped. Now they serve a better use than easing her mind enough to let her sleep.

“Dear me, I think I made it too strong for you, didn’t I?” the redhead pretends this is a social call as her companion slumps to the floor as it all kicks in. Campbell can’t even reach for the gun or the communicator to alert his men. Not that it would have worked anyways. Atia has waited fifteen years to kill this bastard.

By the time her son and his wife arrive, he’s been tied and bundled up in the state-issued fabric used for Peacekeeper’s tents.

“You missed all the fun, kids.” She smiles as she makes sure the bastard is wrapped tight enough for the wild animals that will feast on him until he dies. The reports on the wild hogs say they ate a man in less than ten minutes, Atia hopes they take their sweet time with the good major.

It’s dawn when they return from their trip to the dried up river and the three of them share the whiskey on the porch as Chester Campbell exits the stage forever.

Atia knows the ones to face punishment for this will be Jack and Eva. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the Quarter Quell’s twist will be.

“13 has control of a hovercraft in 2, when the games happen, I will make sure Laurie and the rest of the family are on it or I won’t let it leave the Mountain.” Because she will kill Plutarch Heavensbee herself if they aren’t on that plane.

[beelsbignaturals]

🐄 DEMON FORMS: BELPHEGOR 💤

AN: thanks void for helping w the tags ♡♡♡ also jsyk my requests are open and I am gonna be working on them slowly but surely. I have a con in like... a little over a week? So I'm a lil busy rn but thank u for the love on my creepy demon posts. As always you can check the obey me world building tag on my blog to see the other parts of this series :3

inspiration for this part: honestly, nothing specific unless you count like,,, The Hat Man

TWs: body horror, possession, sleep paralysis, mentions of insanity, mentions of psychosis, lesson 16 mention, demons being demons

● Okay, Level 1.5 belphie is more common than a regular human looking belphie because he can't be bothered most of the time. Also, he doesn't like humans that aren't you, so why would he want to be palatable for them? He has permanent eyebags. He goes back and forth between blinking way too fast or not at all. Which …Is unsettling. He can stare for hours and fall asleep like that. He has cow ears, and his tail is out because he plays with the fluffy part as a stress response. It makes him feel safe (probably bc beel will brush his tail for him when it gets all tangled, and he secretly LOVES it. Puts him to sleep in seconds.) Speaking of sleep, if you look directly at Belphie, he is very…. Fuzzy looking. Like you just woke up and everything's blurry, but it's only him that looks like this. 

Today is the day you learn demons can purr. You knock on the door of the twins' room, entering when you hear a quiet "come in." Perhaps you expected to see Belphie napping on Beel's back while the larger twin does push-ups. You certainly didn't think you'd see the pair sitting on the floor, Belphegor's tail being meticulously detangled by his brother. Belphie looks a bit like a house cat, curled up on the floor, eyes closed and purring as his tail occasionally swishes about. You silently take a video and leave before Belphie wakes up and forces you to delete it.

● Level 2. His tail grows large thorns, perfect for thwacking anyone who annoys him. He constantly smells like lavender and something else that no one can for sure define, but if you stand too close, you will get drowsy. Everything about him seems a bit… uncanny valley. He doesn't look terrifying so much as he looks…. Just,,,, Incorrect. His breathing sounds like a white noise machine.  This is the form he takes during lesson 16. He chooses it specifically so he doesn't make you run immediately. 

Despite the trauma that you experienced, you have learned to find comfort in Belphegor's demon form. Sometimes, you doze off to the sound of his breathing while your hands play with the soft fur of his ears. On more than one occasion, you have compared Belphie to one of the children from Polar Express, which got you smacked in the face by his tail. But even when you get on his last nerve, he is careful not to cut you with the sharp barbs on his tail. A silent apology for killing you once upon a time.

● Level 3. Goodbye sleepy, cozy weirdness, and hello sleep paralysis demon. The thorns on his tail get larger and spread to cover his arms. His eyelids just. Fuck off. He doesn't have them anymore. Jeff the Killer looking bitch. The longer you look at him the more…absolutely fucking AWFUL he looks. Five minutes? He has double the normal amount of teeth. Ten? His horns are casting shadows that look like every nightmare you've ever had. Twenty and all of a sudden you are literally frozen in place. If he's feeling kind, he will use magic to knock you unconscious. If not, you are going to be stuck like this until well after he leaves. If he leaves. Also, he eats dreams.

You will occasionally wake up in the dead of night to the sound of raspy breathing. When you look up, you find a pair of eyes staring intently at you. In the first few seconds after waking, your dreams are so incredibly vivid that it shocks you when they dissappear from your memory, as if it never happened. You yawn, throwing a pillow at the demon's face. Which causes Belphie to laugh, not losing balance from his perch at the end of your bed for even a second.

● Level 4. He is more mist than corporeal. He can be more on the solid side. He just prefers not to. If he is in this form, hold your breath and run. Breathing in any of the mist has…. Very bad side effects. You might find yourself unable to sleep ever again, no matter how tired, until eventually you go insane. Or perhaps living your worst nightmares is more your speed? Either way, it's absolutely horrifying, and he doesn't even have to do any work to destroy you. He just makes you do that yourself. If he likes you, he can make the effects a lot less awful. Breathing in the mist is literally breathing Belphegor, so he can also read your mind (all the better to find your deepest fears). You can hear a whispery voice in the back of your head… that's him. He likes to hang out and chat with Beel like this. Or plot anti-Lucifer activities with Satan since only the person he is possessing can hear him. He can suggest you do all sorts of things, and if you aren't paying attention, you might think it's your body working on its own. If he talks normally while just being a cloud of mist, his voice is surprisingly loud, encompassing the whole room.

A tiny voice, one you know all too well, speaks in the back of your mind. The first time this happened, you thought it was your conscious or something. Perhaps a psychotic break. But no, it is just the youngest of the seven demons you live with. Belphie enjoys backseat driving while you go about your day. He laughs when you trip (honestly, it might be him that caused it...), makes jokes at the most inappropriate times, causing you to choke on your own spit, trying to suppress laughter. And when someone is being particularly rude, he gets rather descriptive in his insults. But hey, he means well. You think.

[foolforharrry]

Darling - Harry Styles Oneshot

Summary: Harry has always felt like something was missing in his life despite the vast fortunes he possessed. Julia has been through hell and back in her young life and all she needs is love and safety. Maybe they're exactly what they need in order to live the lives they were meant to

If you want to check out more of my works, this is my masterlist

I hope you like this 🫶🏻

Harry has always been a level-headed guy.

Never been one to crack under pressure or let his nerves and anxieties affect his work. It’s always impeccable. He wouldn’t be the man that he is today, wouldn’t have the career he does, if he let his fears control him.

And god has he had a lot of times where he’s wanted to let them take the reins. But he can’t recall a time when he’s been shitting his pants the way he is at this very moment.

And it’s all a result of the night he decided he was truly done waiting on life to be perfect.

-

“Are you sure about this, mate?”

Harry looks up from the marked spot on the page to meet his best friend of 14 years' eyes. His own confidence contrasts the cautiousness written all over the otherwise fearless man.

Without letting himself ponder over the decision for a second longer, Harry lets the pen glide over the paper, his name now drying in ink as he exhales through pursed lips.

Will laughed in disbelief, “Well shit. Now it’s done.”

At that moment Harry was convinced that he was making the right decision. No matter how many times he’d been asked if he wasn’t just getting impatient and acting irrational. If he needed help getting laid to get his head back in the game. If he had thought this true.

The truth was that Harry had been thinking about this through and through for a year before he even brought it up to Will.

“Let’s just hope I’m lucky and they don’t give me a little serial killer.”, Harry jokes.

Will smirks knowingly at him, “What would you do if it ended up being one?”

It takes Harry all of one second to reply with; “I guess I would just have to rewatch ‘How to get away with murder’, now wouldn’t I?”

-

Family.

When harry was younger, he saw himself living in a cosy house with a wife that would always make fun of the way he can’t physically bring himself to watch a horror movie without a pillow on hand for when it gets too scary.

Little children. The perfect combination of him and who would’ve been the love of his life running around the house. Their shared laughter and giggles are what would’ve made it at home.

However, as he grew up and started living the life he is with the job he has, that fantasy seemed more and more like just that.

A fantasy.

It had taken Harry quite some time to truly accept that and give up on his fantasy. After countless, failed dates that ended with him spending all night working to keep himself from truly feeling the loneliness fuelled by the hollow space in his heart.

The one thing his empty house and longing house seemed to be craving was the one thing he was being denied time and time again.

Love.

And man did Harry have love to give.

It wasn’t until he was talking to his client about the floorplan they wanted for their new lake house that it clicked for Harry.

And now here he is. Shitting his pants with nerves as he sits in the middle of his large, grey sofa, feet planted on the floor and fingers being twisted by his long fingers. His socked feet are tapping impatiently, the thuds muffled by the soft, pastel-coloured rug that anyone but Harry finds ugly.

His eyes are trained on the clock as if time would move faster if he did.

He really does wish that time would move faster right now.

Maybe he shouldn’t have rushed so much with getting the house ready at such short notice.

Harry had gotten the phone call just as he was about to leave work two days ago. He didn’t even have to think before he was saying yes. The next day the social worker, Ophelia, came over for a short visit to make sure that everything is the way it was supposed to be and talk to Harry.

Ophelia gave him all the information she deemed necessary for now but made it clear that he could call her if he had any more questions.

Is calling Ophelia to ask her favourite colour something the social worker deemed necessary? Probably not. And even though she didn’t know the answer he was looking for, she assured him that all that stuff would work out with time.

Realising that the room he had designated for her would have walls covered in granny wallpaper had made him question whether or not he should try to change his office into a bedroom instead. He’d only put the wallpaper there to piss off Will when he was renovating his home.

Now it’s really come back to bite him in the ass.

Wallpaper might be a weird thing to fret about 10 minutes before your life is going to be permanently changed forever. But that still doesn’t stop Harry from going looking for a prettier one on his phone as if his life depends on it knowing damn well that it’s in vain.

It keeps his mind occupied. And for right now, that’s what he needs the most. Or he might have just lost his mind if he looked at the clock for one more second.

It would’ve been the clock and definitely not by reading about all the worst-case scenarios while running around his house looking for anything he can make look better that would’ve driven him crazy.

“Fuck.”, Harry mutters, his body tenses slightly at the sharp sting of pain from chewing too hard on the inside of his cheek. The sound of his doorbell ringing had nearly given him a heart attack as it is.

On his route through the house, he stops to peek at himself in the mirror, feeling the need to make sure that he is happy with his outfit and that everything looks right.

He went with something simple. A striped brown and white t-shirt tucked into his favourite pair of dark, flared jeans. Black belt to keep the trousers from sagging.

A quick hand through his barely gelled curls and he deems himself good.

It’s with a shaking hand that he’s unlocking his front door before pulling it open. The nerves and excitement feel like they’re about to make him fucking levitate.

Harry is met first by Ophelia. Her face is warm as she greets him with an excited hello. Returning the greeting, he goes to shake her hand when he notices that they’re both occupied. One by a pink suitcase and the other clutched around the straps of a blue children’s backpack.

Ophelia must see the confusion on Harry’s face and the way his eyes are scanning from left to right for the person he was so excited to meet because she is chuckling with a shake of her head. “She’s coming, don’t worry. I think she’s making sure she got all her things from the car.”

“Phew.”, Harry pretends to wipe the sweat off his forehead, finally letting his eyes land on the run-down, grey Toyota parked just outside his gate. It has his brows furrowing. “How come you didn’t just park here?” He gestures to the spot next to his car.

“She insisted on parking as far away from your car as possible.”, Ophelia explains with humour evident in her tone, “According to her I would break a car probably worth more than I make in half a year.”

Harry pretends like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Yeah. Totally. Women these days. Can’t drive.” The extra sigh he added for effect makes it harder for him to keep a straight face than it already was with the whirlwind of emotions that’s been coursing through him like a whirlwind for the past two days.

Ophelia just shakes her head at him, having learnt pretty early on not to take his jokes too seriously.

Just as he’s about to offer to take one of the bags from Ophelia, he spots her half running down the cobblestone driveway.

Harry takes the time it takes her to reach the bottom of the steps to straighten up his posture and wipe the sweat off his increasingly clammy hands against the rough fabric of his jeans.

After reading book after book, Harry thought he would know what it was going to feel like. Going through what felt like a million different blogs where people shared their experiences with the world. All their little tips and tricks. How it was for them.

But boy was he wrong.

Nothing could have prepared him for the rush of emotions going through his entire body when his eyes meets hers. It feels as if the air got sucked right out of his lungs for a second before he can gather himself.

“Hi, darling. I’m Harry.”, he manages to fumble out, hoping this girl doesn’t think he’s a complete idiot.

He’s taking in her features as she replies shyly, “Julia.”

Julia has black, slightly wavy hair that nearly reaches her elbows. Her small face is sprinkled with warm freckles, more noticeable around her nose and below her pale, green eyes.

“Let me take these for you.”, he offers with a kind smile on his face, gesturing to the duffel bag slung over Julia’s shoulder. She thanks him, a faint smile gracing her lips without meeting his eyes. Hers don’t stay still for a second, seeming to be taking in everything around her.

“Do you want me to come inside with you, sweetie?”, Ophelia grabs her attention, her tone almost motherly as she speaks to the young girl. She wraps her up in a short hug when Julia shakes her head no. “You have my number if you need anything.”

“And so do you.”, she points at Harry before she sets the backpack down on the ground. “If there’s anything at all.”

Then she is saying goodbye to the two of them, trotting down the driveway after giving Julia one last hug.

It was obvious to Harry that they were close.

“Do you want me to show you your room?”, Harry asks her, picking up the backpack left on the ground, sliding one strap over his shoulder next to the duffel bag’s.

He takes her small nod as a yes to his question, dragging the suitcase with him inside.

The way she is trailing after him quietly with her eyes trained on the floor has a new kind of anxiousness making his hands clammy again.

“What’s your favourite colour?”, Harry asks her.

Much to his joy, she seems eager to answer, her eyes lighting up and her voice no longer a quiet mumble. “I don’t really have one. Or I do. But it changes all the time. Right now, it’s green. But not like grass green. It’s more like the inside of an avocado kind of green. What’s yours?”

“Last couple of years I’ve loved a deep purple.”, Harry answers with zero hesitation.

Julia stops, tilting her head at him with a thoughtful crease between her full eyebrows. Confused, Harry stops as well, copying her as he waits for her to say what’s on her mind.

Harry didn’t know what he expected to come from her mouth. But what he didn’t expect was for her to simply say, “That makes sense, actually.”

It catches him off guard a bit, but he doesn’t get the chance to ask what she means when she changes the topic. “What do you do?”

“For work.”, she clarifies when he just looks more confused.

Harry doesn’t even bother trying to suppress his smile. “I’m an architect.” He truly loves his job.

“I didn’t know architects made this much money.” Julia says. “I should rethink my career ambitions.”

“C’mon.” He continues their journey through his house, shaking his head with a laugh at her bluntness. “As much as I love being an architect, the majority of it comes from my company.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, “Really?”

“Yup.”, he nods, stopping in front of a plain, white door, “I’ll tell you more about that later if you’d like.”

Julia almost looks disappointed. But that’s quickly replaced by what looks to Harry like shock when he opens the door, “For now, this is your room.”

She slips past him with her mouth slightly ajar as she takes in the room.

“Sorry about the wallpaper.”, Harry starts, staying put at the entrance to give her some space. “I was gonna have my friend, Will come over and take it off before you got here. He didn’t have time but if it’s alright with you, he said he could come by tomorrow to help?”

Gently, she’s feeling the comforter on her bed before she sits down at the foot end of the bed. “That would be cool.”

Harry lights up at that, excited to introduce her to his best friend. “And since this is your room.” He sets the bags and suitcase by the door before he plops down on the small sofa by the window. “We’ll do our best to make it whatever you want it to be, yeah?”

“You don’t have to change anything, Harry. It’s great the way it is.”, Julia insists. Not very convincingly.

He feels his smile falter momentarily. Not because he’s hurt by anything she said. But because he was 99% sure she was lying about it being what she wants to please him.

Instead of taking her at her words, he tells her as sincerely as he can; “We don’t need to change anything if you truly don’t want to. We’ll do it at your speed. As I said, this is your room. However you want it is great. And it’s completely up to you. Even if you’d want it to look like a freaking haunted house, we’d find a way.”

As a final word to assure her, he points to the horrid wallpaper, “To be honest with you? I only used this shit because my friend that I told you about absolutely hated it.”

“Why?”

“He’s an interior designer.”, he says simply. Julia seems to get understand it though because she rolls her bottom lip into her mouth as she nods slowly with a hum. She has an abrupt laugh erupting from Harry when she looks him right in the eye with the most serious expression on her face, “I’ll pray for you. Because this?” The wallpaper. “It’s a crime against humanity.”

They make small talk for a few more minutes before Harry notices her seeming more and more distracted. So he gets up from the chair, “I’ll leave you to get settled a bit, yeah?”

Julia nods. It’s when he’s at the door he hears her ask him to stop, turning around to see her walking towards him.

He’s about to ask her what she needs but he doesn’t get to it as she wraps her arms around his middle, hugging him tightly.

It takes his brain a few moments to comprehend what’s going on, but when it does, he hugs her back happily. His heart might as well swell in size when she says thank you without specifying for what, the side of her face is smushed into his chest.

He just says, “No need.”, and waits for her to let go of him first, pressing a protective kiss to the top of her head without thinking. Already feeling a need to keep this girl safe that he can’t really explain.

Once he’s back in the same spot he sat just 30 minutes ago shitting himself with nerves.

Harry is instead bursting with joy. He was nearly sick to his stomach with the sheer amount of emotions he was feeling for the girl upstairs.

Did he ever see himself taking in a freshly 13-year-old foster child at 28? No. Did he think he would be a single parent? Never in a million years.

But now that Julia is here, any trace of doubt he had has vanished.

It was meant to be.

-

I know this is a bit of an unconventional route to go about with dadrry. But just bare with me, yeah?

In case it wasnt completely clear, Harry is not Julia's foster dad.

Please do let me know your thoughts on these babies.

Ily

[pappydaddy]

perfect strangers ii (n.g.)

warnings, synopsis, etc listened in the series discretion linked here. not proofread.

warnings: gun is prominent in this fic | manipulation | lying | betrayal | shock | catatonic state | dead body | death | being hunted | almost dying | shooting/shots fired | panic | police interactions with reader | reader being arrested | arresting scene not being realistic bc i did not want to write it how American police would handle it

this is a very dark fic, reader’s discretion is advised. please, if you do not think you can handle this level of darkness, stop reading immediately. also, if you feel uncomfortable/triggered/etc. stop reading immediately!! your mental health and safety is more important than reading a fic!

taglist: @rottenstyx | @rootbeerfaygo

part i | part ii | part iii

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

The night had fallen. With each camper in their respective spots, all armed with a plan and an urge to win for their side of town, the game was in full swing. Y/N, who was hiding out in the thick bushes surrounding the building housing their flag, couldn’t shake the slight difference she felt. Every year, the capture the flag game was intense, but this year it almost felt darker. There was an unrecognisable chill to the air, the kind of chill you get when you watch horror movies, like a killer could jump out at any moment and slaughter them all. “Wouldn’t it be better if we move around the woods? Find the Sunnyvalers before they get to our flag?” A camper asked Y/N, pulling her from her head. 

  Clearing her throat, Y/N tried to play her nerves off like it was all due to the game. “No, we’re far enough from the shack to see all vantage points the Sunnyvalers would take that we can intercept them before they could even get into the shack,” She explained the plan again with a bit of strictness in her voice. Within the thick bushes, they were completely invisible. If Y/N was just being paranoid, they would have all the stealth needed for this game. If she wasn’t being paranoid, they would be safe from whatever maniac was terrorizing a summer camp full of kids. “Remember, we have to stay completely silent, you want to win this right?” 

  The group nodded as she flicked her eyes over each one. Suddenly, one of the female campers lit up, pointing. “Look, it’s Tommy, he kinda looks weird,” Her quiet voice trailed off. Quickly, Y/N turned her head, remaining in her crouched position, her eyes landing on the slightly older counsellor. He seemed to move with vigour, as if he was on a mission. It also seemed like he was locked in a trance, his eyes locked on the shack. Gulping, Y/N was put off by the sudden thickness in the air. As soon as they all saw the silver gleam of the axe blade in the moonlight, they all stilled, but Y/N caught sight of the liquid dripping off it. “Why does he have an axe?” The camper’s voice, still quiet as she could be, quivered in fear. 

  “I don’t know, but I want you guys to look down at the ground, no matter what happens, stay here and stay quiet unless I tell you otherwise.” She ordered them, the tone in her whispered voice not leaving them any room for arguments. She had no idea what was going on with Tommy, he was a perfectly respectable, goofy guy who charmed the heart of Cindy Berman, the uptight older sister to the carefree Ziggy; but right now, something was going on and Y/N had the inkling that it had to do with the feeling she had earlier. 

  Watching closely, ready to spring into action, Y/N watched as Tommy started up the stairs of the shack, his boots clunking into the night. Pushing the door open, she watched as he surveyed the room, but he made no further moves to enter the cabin. The way he stood, the look in his eyes. He was looking for people to murder. A chill ran up her spine as she mentally hoped the kids within the cabin stayed wherever they were hiding.

  The campers behind Y/N whimpered, covering their ears, but it did very little for them. They knew what Tommy was trying to do. His slow, sauntering steps struck more fear into all their veins, knowing he was heading farther into the cabin. Thoughts swirled in Y/N’s head as she fought to come up with a plan as fear tried to overpower her brain. She had to keep these kids safe. They were in her care. Above everything, these kids had to make it out alive. The sound of a bang like an axe hitting the hardwood floor within the cabin echoed throughout the night, making the group flinch, but otherwise stay silent.  

  The night fell silent again, but that did little to ease Y/N. The silence meant that Tommy had not found whatever he was looking for in the cabin and he would be leaving - heading closer to base camp which meant he was coming right by them. “This is really important, do not move, do not make a sound, and stay hidden.” Y/N spoke to the campers, glancing back to see them all curled in on themselves, their hands buried between their needs, their bodies shaking as their whimpers were muffled and their ears covered. Pulling back from the little hole in the bushes she was using as a peephole, she could hear the slow, sauntering steps of Tommy. She could imagine him, his bloody axe dripping with thick, dark crimson blood as he stood on the porch, surveying the dark woods only illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the tops of the trees - looking for more victims to claim. 

  Squeezing her eyes closed, she wished to hear the thundering footsteps moving away from them. As if hearing her wishes, Tommy’s footsteps sounded along the wooden porch again before she could hear his boots scuffing against the dirt paths, beaten down from the years of campers moving freely through the camp grounds. Listening intently, she knew he was only five feet away from them, the bushes they cowered under covering them completely. His footsteps got quieter and quieter as he paced away from them until they were unable to hear them anymore. 

  “Okay, I am going to go into the shack, you guys stay here until I come to get you. If he comes back, wait until he comes into the shack with me then run like hell back to base camp. From there, there is a phone in the nurse’s cabin. Dial 9-1-1 and tell them to get here as fast as they can. Then, lock yourselves in the closet, it has a double door with handles, the only doors that have them in the entire camp. There is a broom in that closet, put that through the handles with the broom head in the air, it will stop him from getting in to you if he finds you. Okay?” Y/N rushed, breathless. With more whimpers and wide eyes, her campers all nodded.

  “Okay, I’ll be right back. Remember everything I told you if he comes back.” With that, she stood up, head swivelling to survey the grounds. There wasn’t anyone else around, the woods around them silent. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself through the bushes, not caring that the branches scraped her legs up, she barely felt the pain with all the adrenaline and thoughts swirling around her body anyway. 

  Running for the shack, she wanted to get out of the open area as fast as she could. It was highly unlikely that he would come back to the place he already attacked, but this was also the place one of the flags was held, it was to be a high activity spot once the Sunnyvalers realised where the Shadyside flag was hidden. Pulling open the old door, she instantly gasped. Laying there, as soon as you opened the door was one of the Shadyside counsellors, his face pressed against the floor, the only thing telling her it was a counsellor was his Shadyside counsellor shirt. He didn’t even see it coming. Her body began to shake as she stared at the unrecognisable man. She hadn’t even heard him killed, but by the looks of it, his head was split. That must have been what the thud was. 

  Sucking in a deep breath, she let out the breath, trying to shuffle around the limp and unrecognisable body. She wasn’t sure why she thought this was a good idea, but she came in here to do something, she just had to figure out what fast. Looking around, she took in the shack. This shack, she realised what it was. It used to be the gamekeeper’s shack for the camp. He used to monitor the grounds, make sure there were no dangerous animals lurking around the woods, kept the grounds maintained, and even acted as security when there was an escaped murderer when Y/N was younger. “If everything's the way he left it, his gun should still be here.” She realised. 

 The gamekeeper had been a man who held his right to bear arms close to his patriotic heart - something that made Y/N had always questioned why someone would hire him to be a gamekeeper at a summer camp with kids, but right now, she was thankful. After he had died, nobody had touched the shack except the curious kids who created ghost stories surrounding the shack meaning everything was the same as the first time she had ventured in here. Without looking at the ground beneath her too hard, she rushed towards the lining closet. She wasn’t sure if the owners of the camp would have been able to get into the old man’s safe to remove the guns or if they even cared, but she was looking for anything to help. As much as she wished there was a manual to dealing with situations such as this, there wasn’t so she was flying by the seat of her pants. 

  Opening the closet, she saw the safe nestled on the floor under the last shelf of the closest. The smell of moth-eaten and musty sheets hit her like a freight train, but she ignored it. A few moths fluttered out at her face, but once again, she was unbothered. She wasn’t going to be able to break into a safe, she had no idea how to pick them. Blinking at the turn dial, Y/N took a second to figure out how she was going to do this. “He’s got tools in here, I remember,” She exclaimed, pulling the toolbox off the shelf just above the safe, opening it with fumbling hands. “This is a cheap safe, if I dent the top enough, I could pry it off with the pry bar.” She theorised, pulling out his hammer. 

  It was almost as if fate was on her side at the moment - the safe was on wheels. Pulling it out, she readjusted her grip on the hammer. This was going to make a huge sound, but since nobody had come running from the sound of the suspicious thud, she felt as though she was safe from anyone overhearing. However, the thought of Tommy making his way back weighed on her mind. If he was nearby, he would hear it and come running back. “No. I need to do this. The longer I take, the more danger the campers are in.” With that, she used all her might to wind the hammer back. With both hands gripping the hammer, she held it over her head, eyes locked on the middle of the cover, eyeing her target. With a grunt, she jumped as she struck the safe, adding more weight to the strike. 

  The clang of metal on metal vibrated around her, surely leaking out of the open cabin door. Letting the hammer clatter to the floor, she saw the sides lifting off enough for her to wedge the pry bar in it. Hands wrapping around the old, rusted, and freezing cold pry bar, she jammed it under the bulge. With all her might, she pushed down on the hooked end, the metal creaking and warping due to the presser. The old metal was malleable and easy to pry up so that Y/N could slip her hand in. Dropping the pry bar, she crouched down, her whole forearm plunging into the old safe without a second thought of what kind of bugs could have squeezed their way in there over the course of time. Swallowing down the slight realisation that there could be thousands upon thousands of starving spiders in there, her fingers blindly skirted around the selection of guns. 

  The rough metal scratched her as she reached her arm farther, fingers wrapping around one. Quickly and with a cry of victory, she pulled it out, seeing the gleaming silver in the dim moonlight pouring in through the open door. Gulping, she felt hot fear travelling through her body. Her father had guns, she had seen them and he taught her all about them, but she had never held one. She detested guns, but right now she wasn’t thinking about herself. She needed to take Tommy down before he could hurt any other kids. 

  Swallowing down the fear, she inspected it, the metal clinking as she turned the handgun over in her hand, her finger lightly trailing down it. “Dad has this one, it takes a .45 ACP cartridge. I’m pretty sure it’s an AMT Hardballer.” For once, she was happy that her father drilled identifying characteristics of every single gun on the market to her - claiming it would help her greatly if she were ever in a situation where she had to identify a gun. 

  Setting the gun on the ground beside her knee, she shot her hand back into the safe blindly. She had felt cartridge boxes when feeling around for a gun, they were all stacked on the side closest to her. “Based on the position this gun was in,” She grunted quietly to herself, her tongue poking out as she tried to grab the box. She had obviously pulled the gun from the top of a pile meaning that gun was most likely the last one the gamekeeper had used. “The correct ammo should be-” She relaxed the tension in her body as her fingers gripped the box, pulling it up. “In this box-” She cut herself off, her breath hitching as she carefully manoeuvred the box out of the safe. “Fuck yes!” She exclaimed, pulling the box open. Grabbing a handful, she continuously stuffed some in the pockets of her jean shorts. 

  With newly shaking hands and staggered breath, she popped open the magazine. “If I remember correctly, this has a seven-round magazine.” She whispered, counting out seven bullets and dropping them carefully in the magazine, making sure she did it exactly how she saw her father and brother doing it multiple times before. Slamming the magazine back into the gun, she stood, the barrel pointed down just like her father taught her. 

  Before she left the closet, she reached up, grabbing the musty sheets, pulling two down. For a second, she had to wonder if she was too young to be dealing with this - having to cover the dead bodies of pre-teens. She couldn’t understand why Tommy would do something like this. He adored the children and the children adored him. They idolised him more than any other counsellor - the Goode’s included. Even the Sunnyvale campers liked him. Now, here he was, leaving a trail of bodies behind him. 

  “I am so sorry,” She whispered as she gently placed the sheets, not looking at anything other than the bloodstained hardwood. The bottoms of her white sneakers sounded as if she was walking in a puddle of water, but she knew better. She couldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t be able to move if she looked at him. She would break down, falling apart within seconds. “I am so sorry.” She repeated, her voice choking on a held back sob as she stood up, exiting the cabin. Pulling the door shut, she quickly made her way back towards the bushes. 

  “What happened in there? The campers are safe, right?” One of the boys asked fearfully, looking up at Y/N as she made her way back into the bushes, crouching. 

  “I didn’t see any campers in there. They must have been on a bathroom break and the counsellor covering for them left the flag unattended,” She lied. She didn’t want them to know that there was a dead body in there. If she hadn’t heard anything, then they hadn’t heard anything either. “Come on, we have to get you guys to base camp and we need to call the cops.” 

____     

  Traversing the woods at night was one of Y/N’s favourite things about camp. The way the moonlight filtered through the trees like strobes of light, the gentle breeze rusling the bushes. She never once thought the small little bumps and noises sounding from the veil of darkness surrounding her was anything dangerous. Now, she was jumping at even the slightest of noise, the gun clasped tightly in her hands, her finger on the trigger, ready to trigger the loaded bullet to be expelled from the barrel. 

  Letting out a shaky breath, eyes flicking around the darkness, she half expected Tommy to jump out, the blade of his axe shining as it cut through the air, aiming for the kids. Slowly lowering the gun, she glanced back at the equally as terrified kids behind her. Along their path to base camp, they came across some young Sunnyvalers, the ones still free from the nastiness of the rivalry. They had said they saw Tommy acting weird and Y/N told them to join their group. It made her question why Tommy had killed the Shadyside counsellor within a split second, but according to the Sunnyvale campers, he walked right by them as they met each other on the thin path. 

  She didn’t think too much as she started to walk carefully through the thick trees, trying her best to stay off the game trails running through the camp. The shaking and whimpering campers followed her, both nervous about getting lost and running into Tommy. They didn’t understand why Tommy was suddenly hunting them. He was the most liked counsellor at Camp. He was the fun-loving, goofy older boy who all the campers looked up to and adored. Tommy adored the kids equally as much. It made no sense why he was lurking around the camp dead set on killing Shadysiders. 

  The small, fallen branches broke under their feet as they walked, putting everyone on edge, but they continued on. “Okay, now, we’re going to have to be out in the open, the woods are too thin by base camp to hide us. We move fast, we stay vigilant. If anyone sees Tommy, you tell me and I’ll take care of it.” They were still a few yards from base camp, but the woods were significantly thin within those few yards. Earning nods from the group, she led them into the openness of the game trail. On the other side of the beaten path, the trees were spaced out, allowing more moonlight to rain down onto the floor of the forest. 

  Pausing for a second, the group couldn't help but to take a second to survey the surroundings. The night was silent, not even the chirps of crickets or croaks of frogs. There had never been a night this silent at camp. As a collective, they all started moving again, twigs snapping as they hiked their knees up, stepping over the young trees barely three feet from the ground. Weight settled upon Y/N’s shoulders as she couldn’t help but to think that they were all too young to deal with this. She was too young to deal with this. 

  Swallowing down the upcoming anxiety and panic, she trudged forward. Eyes locked harshly with the distant glow of the dusk to dawn lights of the main camp. Suddenly, just like fog rolling off water, a sudden chill rolled over them, causing the group to stop. In the exposed moonlight, they could see the dirt, scraps, twigs, and dead leaves that they acquired during their trek in the woods. Dirt caked and scraped faces, legs, and arms were all frozen as they held their breaths, feeling a burning in their backs. 

  Gulping, Y/N slowly turned her head to the side, the silhouette of Tommy’s hulking figure was hooded by the darkness, hidden in the moon’s blindspot, but the head of the axe was gleaming ever so brightly, fresh crimson blood dripping onto the dirt path he stood on. “Run. Run now. Go to the nurse’s cabin in that closet I was telling you about,” She whispered to the group, trying to stay as still as she could. It seemed that as long as they didn’t make sudden movements, Tommy was happy stalking them. “Go now!” She yelled to the group as they stood there, shaking but unmoving. Her shout echoed into the dense night, a few birds flying from their resting spots - disturbed from their slumber. 

  Jolting the kids from their frozen states, they all ran past her. The sudden movement of the group made Tommy lurch into action. His axe swung from side-to-side as he ran towards them. Y/N stood firm, raising her gun with both hands, seemingly unnerved by the large, deranged teen running straight at her. As the moonlight hit him, she could see his usually vibrantly bright blue eyes seemed dead, as if there were no thoughts ranging in his head - it was almost as if he were possessed. 

  Y/N’s mouth fell open as his eyes sent chills running along her spine, but she couldn’t let him reach her. Her finger, that had been resting on the trigger of the gun pushed down, her body rocking as the bullet was discharged. Within seconds, the bullet lodged into Tommy’s shoulder, blood splattering like someone tossed a rock into a puddle of water. A grunt left Tommy’s lips as his body jolted from the force, stumbling backwards. “What the hell?” Y/N questioned in panic as Tommy continued to move towards her as if he hadn’t just been shot. 

  Moving backwards as fast as she could, she moved the aim of the gun, pushing the trigger once again. Her body jerked again as the gun recoiled from the blast of the bullet. With a squish and another splatter of blood, the bullet lodged into Tommy’s thigh, his movements stuttering again from the force of the hit, but he continued forward still. Frozen for a second, Y/N’s brain tried to figure out the next move. If bullets weren’t slowing him down, she had no other choice. Her body reacting quickly, she turned on her heel and ran towards base camp. 

  Gun swinging by her side, she was hyper aware of the running footsteps behind her. Low hanging branches whipped her in the face, fallen trees and uprooted roots attempted to trip her, but she pushed through. Her chest burning, her legs threatening to quit on her, and her side crawling with a painful cramp. The grunts and heavy breathing of Tommy melted away as tears started to run down her face. Even if she got to base camp, Tommy was hot on her heels with no clear way to stop him. No matter what she did at this point, she was sure death was upon her. Her life to be taken at the hands of Tommy and his axe. A sob-like gasp escaped her as she finally broke through the treeline, her feet hitting the soft, manicured grass of the base camp. 

  She didn’t even give herself a chance to look around at the empty cabins and buildings, instead heading right towards the mess hall. Her body shook with sobs, her face wet with tears, her brain coming to terms with the fact that she was going to die, but she still pushed forward. If she was going to die, she was going to go down fighting. Her now dirty white sneakers hit the first step to the mess hall, but she was yanked back by a sudden hand grabbing her forearm. A scream pierced through the silence of the main camp area, her eyes closing tightly as the person turned her to face her. “No, please, Tommy!” She pleaded, her head thrashing to the side as she didn’t want to see what was coming towards her. 

  The grasp on her forearm tightened, shaking her. “Don’t Tommy! Why are you doing this?” She sobbed, her body falling limp in the hold, trying to force Tommy to let go of her. In her fear, she wasn’t even questioning why Tommy wasn’t hacking her up into bits. He hadn’t hesitated to run at her in the woods, and he hadn’t hesitated killing the counsellor at the gamekeeper’s cabin. 

  “Y/N, it’s me! It’s me,” The desperate voice of the person holding her finally met her ears. Her body shook as the person tried to pull her from her terror. “You’re okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe with me.” His voice softened when he realised she had heard him. Her face relaxed, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she questioned if she could trust her mind right now. Slowly, she let her eyes open and she turned her head to look at the person in front of her. 

  “Nick-” She breathed out a sigh of relief, pulling her arm from his loose grasp, launching herself at him. Arms around his shoulders, she was flush against him, enjoying his warmth and calming scent. A wave of tears washed over her again as one of his arms wrapped around her waist, the other one coming up to softly pet the back of her tangled hair that had leaves and branches woven into it. “Oh god, Nick. It’s horrible, I thought I was gonna die,” She sobbed into the crook of his neck where she had buried her face. “Bullets wouldn’t stop him. It was like he was supernatural or some shit!” 

  “You’re safe now, you’re good.” Nick soothed her the best he could, his voice not weavering for a second. Y/N often admired how brave Nick was. When she would call him in the middle of the night telling him she was scared due to the most recent Shadyside murder, he would find a way to sneak over to her side of town, not even worried about the murderer himself. She questioned how he could be so confident that he wouldn’t be a victim, but he always told her it was part of being a Goode. 

  “Tommy,” She choked out, pulling her head from Nick’s neck finally. Her puffy, red, and tear filled eyes met Nick’s sorrowful brown ones. Sniffling, she let her eyes scan around the dark camp for any sign of danger. “He’s got an axe. He killed Garrett,” She informed him of the death of their fellow counsellor. “I don’t know who else he killed. We have to call the Sheriff!” She urged, hiccuping as she tried to calm herself down, the tears welling up again. 

  “Hey, hey,” Nick gripped her shoulders, crouching slightly as she looked down at the ground. “I already called him. He’s coming, don’t worry.” He informed her, brushing some of her hair away from her dirt covered face. Of course he would have it all taken care of. The Sheriff was his illegitimate uncle, taking over for Nick’s father after his death.  

  “You were in the nurse’s office? Did a bunch of kids run in there?” She asked, realising that if he called his father, he would have been in the very building she told the kids to run to. She blinked up at him with wide eyes, hoping the kids had listened and that the reason Tommy didn’t get her was because he saw the kids. 

  “Yeah, they locked themselves in the closet, I told them to join the rest in the mess hall. But then I heard you, that’s why I ran out here,” His words allowed her to relax once more, knowing the kids are safe. “Are you okay?” He asked her quietly, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concern and concentration. 

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but we have to save the kids-”

  “There is a bus coming to take everyone back to town, most of everyone is in the mess hall already,” Nick interrupted her, his voice calm as if a murderer wasn’t hunting people down. Y/N breathed out once again. “I was going to round the others up, Ziggy is already at the mess hall, maybe you should stay here and join them-” 

  “No,” She rolled her shoulders back, standing tall. “I’m going with you.” She declared. Nick’s dark eyes, that looked so deep, seemed to examine her for a moment. His lips pursed before he relented. 

  “All right, let’s go. The bus can’t be too far out now.” He sighed. With no other words exchanged, the couple walked back towards the woods with only a gun and each other against the horrors lurking in the night. 

[captainmdhridoyhossain-blog]

[ad_1] Joaquin Phoenix's character is attacked, tortured, threatened, knocked unconscious and terrorized in Ari Aster's Beau is Afraid. A24 hide caption toggle caption A24 Joaquin Phoenix's character is attacked, tortured, threatened, knocked unconscious and terrorized in Ari Aster's Beau is Afraid. A24 Thirty-six-year-old writer-director Ari Aster makes deliberately paced, exquisitely crafted chillers about guilt, repression and super-messed-up family dynamics. I've been an admirer of his ever since getting scared out of my wits five years ago by Hereditary, with its mash-up of demonic possession and domestic turmoil. Less scary but no less gripping was his nightmarish travelogue Midsommar, about a relationship that rots under the Scandinavian sun. Now, after sitting through Aster's latest, the three-hour horror-comedy fantasia Beau Is Afraid, my admiration hasn't dimmed, exactly; it's the kind of freakish jumble only a gifted filmmaker could make. And I'm grateful that a company as adventurous as A24 is willing to give an ambitious director carte blanche to make the unhinged passion project of his dreams. But Beau Is Afraid still strikes me as an audacious misfire. Aster is still flicking at his characters' raw nerves, to say nothing of ours, but for the first time, he seems to be doing it more for effect than anything else. Beau Wassermann, played by Joaquin Phoenix, is a middle-aged sad sack who, true to the title, is afraid of a lot of things. He's afraid of getting sick and dying. He's afraid of the side effects of the medication prescribed by his therapist. He's afraid to have sex, convinced that it'll kill him. He's afraid to set foot outside his shabby apartment, which is understandable, since he lives in an anonymous urban hellscape full of zombie-movie vibes. Most of all, though, Beau is afraid of his mother (played by the great Patti LuPone), whom he's planning to visit for the first time in ages. But on the day of his intended departure, a bizarre sequence of events causes Beau to miss his flight, which sends him on a long, protracted odyssey that falls into four distinct chapters, each one weirder than the last. In the first and most suspenseful chapter, Beau tries to leave his apartment, is attacked by a naked serial killer and ultimately gets hit by a car. The second chapter finds him recuperating in the home of a suburban couple — they're played by Nathan Lane and Amy Ryan — who are friendly enough at first, though they seem determined to keep him from leaving. The third and most beguiling chapter finds Beau lost in a mysterious forest, where he stumbles on a wandering theater troupe. The show they put on for him — Aster makes use of some strikingly beautiful animation here — offers a poignant glimpse of an alternate life path for Beau, one where he's able to find true love and raise a family. But in some ways, this is the cruelest episode of all, since Aster dangles the possibility of happiness mainly so that he can yank it away. The fourth chapter finds Beau returning to his childhood home, where all manner of terrible memories and ugly secrets are waiting for him. Aster gives all this surreal mayhem a fever-dream intensity, and as always, he leaves us uncertain about whether we should laugh or recoil. There are countless references to earlier movies, including Hitchcock's monstrous-mother classic Psycho and Charlie Kaufman's depressive meta-comedy Synecdoche, New York. Aster also brings in terrific actors, like Parker Posey and Richard Kind, in crucial supporting roles.

But what it all adds up to, in the end, is not a whole lot: a bludgeoning Freudian nightmare, in which a gibbering man-child does battle with his domineering mom and his feelings of shame, anxiety and self-loathing. It's not clear whether Aster is parodying or just regurgitating these overworked tropes — or maybe a little of both. It doesn't really matter. After a while, Beau Is Afraid becomes so thuddingly repetitive that it doesn't feel scary or revelatory; it feels like drudgery. Phoenix is so good at playing damaged souls that he almost feels like too obvious a casting choice. There isn't much to Beau as a character, beneath all his panicky shrieks and strained grimaces. It's easy to feel for him, the way you would feel for anyone you've seen get attacked, tortured, threatened, knocked unconscious and terrorized for three hours. But he's a blank — one that Aster, for all his formidable skill, hasn't been able to fill in. [ad_2] #Joaquin #Phoenix #stars #Ari #Asters #passion #project #NPR

[pokegalla]

Idk why but i recently got back into UT content again, and x readers are inevitable— been stalking your works lol

Anyways, i am self endulgent and need comfort—

So, requesting just a little something with the Bad Sanses with a reader who is a very dressy and traditionally "girly" person, they love pink, they love poofy Lolita style dresses, they love playing around with fun make up designs and hair styles— but suddenly stopped wearing their usual fun and expressive get up due to someone insulting their behavior and fashion

Hope this isn't too much— love your writing tho! You're very good at it :]

Thank you! And Yo saaaaaame. I actually forgotten Undertale for quite some time and when Deltarune chapter 2 rolled around….well here I am with a whole blog! Now I can’t escape. I’m stuck now. And I’m bringing dat ass down with me- (I’m going to take a break from requests but I still did your request since you asked before I declared the break so I felt it would be unfair if I didn’t Y’know? So I hope you like it!)

Bad Sanses with Girly!Reader who suddenly stops expressing themselves

* They were pretty used to your bright colors and girly outfits. There were times Error would knit some dresses for you. Horror would help brush your hair while Dust styled it. Killer helped with your makeup (those anime cosplays of his helped contribute on this). Nightmare found your actions a bit too cutesy so it leaves him annoyed but he’s also the one who spoils you the most (clothes, makeup, accessories, he splurges once he finds some good stuff he knows you’ll love.)

* Nightmare could sense a lot of negativity in his office one day. He goes to the kitchen to see everyone peeping in from the doorway. They all jump noticing him but pointed out to you: their main cause of worry. There you sat with no trace of your usual attire or energy to match it. In fact your energy matched your current look: tired and gloomy. A complete reverse.

* You refused to tell anyone what happened. It made you feel a bit bad when they tried cheering you up. Killer tried his usual jokes, Horror with his cooking, Dust with his worried stare, even Error was willing to give up some of his precious chocolate to cheer you up. Unfortunately you just didn’t feel up to it. So they go to their last hope: Nightmare.

* Obviously he didn’t want to get involved and was enjoying the negativity but even his team knew he was concerned for your well-being as well. So he manages to talk to you and you finally admit that someone had insulted the way you acted and dressed and now you didn’t feel comfortable. It was obvious that you still wanted to but whatever that person said to you, it really upset you.

* Yo….tell me how everyone just dresses you up in your usual outfit. And they all hang around you suggesting all of you would take a small walk together. A bit terrifying for other strangers to see you heavily guarded but you actually felt safe. The person from before unfortunately spotted you and started talking that shit. The absolute FEAR in their eyes when the murder trio circled in on them. They only scared them off but I doubt they’ll let them go Scott free either (don’t expect seeing them ever again after that….)

* You all go home and they made you promise to tell them next time and that you are amazing just the way you are!

Mini Story Time!!!

Everyone was muttering while you and the Bad Sanses walked down the street. You felt so nervous….all their eyes on you….were they judging you? You felt Horror and Dust hold your hands and Nightmare’s tentacle gently wrap around your waist.

“Calm yourself….there is nothing to be afraid of,” Nightmare said softly, “Take deep breathes.” You did as he told and your nerves became calmer. You felt safe near them….much more comfortable.

“Oh great. That weirdo again,” The voice made you freeze up. Not again….The person that insulted you before approached the group, “Still wearing that crap? You look like a freaking clown. Makes sense when you have the whole circus following you around.” The person laughed along with some friends but went rigid when the murder trio surrounded them. Their friends also froze up.

“Heh….that’s a good one,” Killer said raising a knife to their face, “Since you wanna be a little jokester, why don’t I paint a nice big smile across that face? A proper clown has to make a biiiiiig smile~!”

Horror and Dust teleported behind them, hands on their shoulders. With their glowing eye lights and dark aura was enough to elicit a horrified scream as they ran off, their friends following suit. The skeletons were going to give chase but Nightmare stopped them.

“No need. I believe they have gotten the message. Besides best if we do it….another time. Wouldn’t want to scare our human here,” Nightmare explained.

“Heh….sure thing boss,” Dust said cackling a bit.

“You really didn’t have to….,” You said in a low voice.

But Nightmare heard, “It was absolutely necessary. Can’t let others think it’s ok to mess with our human now would we?”

You sigh but smile sweetly, “Thank you! You guys are the best!”

Error smiled, “There’s our human.”

“Aw you even got glitchy boi here all smiley,” Killer teased.

“Wha-?! S-shut up! Tear stained freak….,” Error grumbled.

You laughed making them all relieved to see you were already feeling much better. They all hugged you (well Error squeezed your hand. His own unique way Y’know?) and showered you with compliments.

“Alright….,” You giggling before hugging them back just as warmly, “Let’s go home.”

[streets-in-paradise]

Untill Death Tear Us Apart - Andy Barclay (fem)Reader/Chucky (fem)Reader - Part 2

Masterlist

Word Count 1.5 K

Warnings: Same warnings of part 1 

Summary: Exposure forces Chucky to come up with excuses as he tries to keep your family on his side. Thinking on your children as the kid he once was, Andy needs to set the twins free from his manipulations before finishing him off. 

Notes: I wasn’t planning on doing a part two when I came up with this, but it happened because I kept thinking of the concept. To continue I had to name the boys and i kept my old habit of using horror names. They were named after Sam Winchester from Supernatural and Danny from The Shinning. 

Tags: @losersclubisms​

The situation imploded quicker than expected, Andy was relatively pleased with how fast Chucky’s anger overcame his need of playing the fool for you. Unfortunately, the doll wasn’t going to give up quickly and, knowing that his life depended on it, he still tried to get you on his side. The kids were crying, scared of the people keeping their beloved friend at gunpoint and seeing your state of horrified confusion was making Andy hesitate. Like your sons, he used to be a kid manipulated through the hole in his life left by the absence of his father. If he would proceed to kill the doll wordlessly and quickly as usual, they would never get the answers they would need later in life. He gesturally warned Kyle about the switch of tactic, then proceeded into it. 

Killing Chucky wasn’t enough, he had to be exposed. Those children deserved to know that he was never their friend, that he played them the whole time and that he was the killer of their dad. Unlike in other houses, the doll got to cause too much harm there and he couldn’t get away with it for free. He didn’t deserve a victimizing death, one that would leave him to be remembered as a loving friend by two naive boys that would be crying for him. The lack of explanations could result in more unaware collaboration on their part if Chucky would ever decide to make a comeback on another body. 

That was how you ended up stuck in the most unbelievable of arguments: a talking toy against a man were aggressively fighting for credibility and you were the judge whose approbation they were seeking. 

“ We can still be together, this all ain’t plastic.” Chucky told you, as if the proposition would be a completely normal thing. “ You gotta admit I have been a great husband to you and beneath this I am a real man, you know? “ 

It repulsed you, weirded you even more than not knowing exactly what the hell he was. 

“ A serial killer ” Andy quickly replicated. “ His real name is Charles Lee Ray, he got his soul transferred into a doll after being shot by police.” 

“ I know, the doll body creeps you, but back in the day I used to be way better looking than this dumbass. Just google me and you will find out I am really hot. “ 

The insane answer got on his rival’s nerves. 

“ That body has been decomposing in a graveyard since 1988 … and how is that a valid point?” 

“ She will trust me more if she gets to know what she is missing.” Chucky teased back. “ Nobody needs you to point out the obvious, Andy.” 

“ So, you are not Alex” You briefly interrupted, pointing at the man over the name he introduced himself by when he arrived at your house. You weren’t trying to make it an actual act of questioning, it was confusion talking for you. 

“ See? He has lied about his name. Who knows what else he is hiding?”

“ YOU ARE A SUPERNATURALLY POSSESSED DOLL!” Andy defended himself. “ ISN’T THAT BIG FUCKING LYING?” 

The doll didn’t answer him, directing his speech once more to you. 

“ I never lied to you about that, (y/n). Told your kids I am Chucky and that is my actual name. Nickname for Charles, actually. “ 

“ All this time you have been a man? “ In your tone of voice when delivering the question it was noticeable that you were feeling sick. “ When I held you, in all that marriage playing… On my BED?” 

“ Imagine it’s like Princess and the Frog, but instead it is Pinocchio. Inside the doll you get the prince” He justified himself. “ I was here with you every fucking moment of the godamn day. I have spent more time at your side than any guy you have ever met. I know your likes and habits, your worries and fears. I heard you cry, vent your frustration out: I stood up by your side at the most horrible moments and loved to be there. No one will ever bring you the same dedication and I trust you will see that now. “ 

Kyle was honestly shocked witnessing the reach of Chucky’s ability to manipulate facts in his favor. She didn’t get as much of that as Andy once did, but it was horribly disgusting to see anyways. 

“ He played the same game on another woman back in that year, her husband was found in the river. Did yours die in an accident too?” 

Your eyes started to fill with falling tears, desperation overwhelming you as you were trying to make the math and remember if Chucky was already there at the time of the accident. 

“ Of you and me… Who are the ones holding guns, Kyle?” 

“ We are protecting her from YOU!” Andy insisted, trying to visually reach out to you and see if you were beginning to understand the situation. 

“ I never hurt her, or the boys. They know I am their friend.” 

“ YOU KILLED THEIR FATHER!” 

Hugging you as if their lives depended on it, they were one with your pain and fear. Danny acted the bravest, looking at the doll in the eye while daring to ask the question so his brother wouldn’t have to. 

“ Is that true, Chucky? Did you kill daddy?” 

He was trapped, exposed to his own lies, but still tried one last attempt to keep control over the boy.

“ I was playing hide the soul with him, but he was a real asshole and got against it… Just like Andy, he is an asshole who wants to separate us. Are you gonna trust him, or me? I am your friend, Danny. I’m always for you and Sammy, whenever you feel lonely you come to play with me.” 

Andy couldn’t stand it anymore, it was like staring at his childhood self in a magical mirror. He could be shooting Chucky right there, skipping the traumatic experience, but he knew that both of those kids needed it.  

“ You are not our friend.” Sammy added, releasing you to hold his brother. “ Friends don’t do that. “ 

“ You are not dad, you will never be. I want MY DAD back, CHUCKY!” 

That was the sign Andy was waiting for, turned into a subtle gesture that the boys made at him in order to indicate that they were ready for what had to happen. It made him remember of the determination he showed as a little boy setting Chucky on fire, how clear it was for him that last manipulation he tried when locked in the chimney. 

A mess of bloody doll remains put the end after he and his sister emptied the loads of their guns over Chucky. Your little broken family had a lot to process, but at least you would be able to do it in peace. However, it had to be explained to you that when it was about him all ends were circumstantial. He showed a singular obsession with you and that was always bad news. it was most likely he would attempt a comeback to get revenge or a kidnap. 

Andy felt the personal need of being the one doing the warning to you, along with some other important explanations. 

“ My real name is Andy Barclay, I once was the first child he terrorized. “ He later confessed to you while Kyle distracted the boys so they wouldn’t get to hear more traumatizing information. “ He has chased me my whole childhood and I have dedicated the rest of my life to make sure he would never hurt anyone else. The woman you have met as Christine is Kyle, my sister. We both wish we could have arrived on time, but the fucker has made tons of clones on dolls and those are not always easy to track.” 

“ But you killed him, you saved our lives…. How can he still be out there?” 

“ We don’t know for sure how, but what truly matters is that he can come back anytime and you need to be ready. Yours isn’t a disposable family, he has some psycho attachment to you and that means he is not going to stop easily.” 

A knot in your throat formed to the mere mention of that. 

“ Do you know how to shoot?” He asked you, seeking to help you despite the anxious shock. “ It is the safest way to stop him, he has advantage on closer combat. Your highest chances to win are with a gun on hand.” 

“ I have never held one, those have always terrified me…” 

You were feeling the world collapsing, but he held you as if he was attaching you to reality itself through that kind gesture. At that moment, his embrace was the safest place for you. 

“ It’s alright, we will figure that out. I’m going to stay in town as much as you need and teach you all what needs to be learned to keep your kids safe. I’m not doing this for all the families, I usually hit the road as soon as the doll is dead but you were an exception to him and that makes you an exception to me.” 

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Your quiet days in castle Dimitrescu met their end the moment Cassandra took an interest in you.

You should have known. Perhaps you did know and just didn’t want to admit it.

The woman –vampire, mutant, what even are they— is a bipolar sadist.

One night she may be walking down the halls sending you a sexy wink under her hood as she passes you by, the next she could show up out of nowhere and cut you ‘hello’ with her sickle, scoop up the blood with her thumb to taste, then disappear again. The evening after that, she may not even give a damn about you, may not spare you a single fleeting glance, like even the notion you could be worth her time is laughable.

And it is, isn’t it.

Humans are nothing to them. Your significance is below that of a pet. You may as well be livestock. It doesn’t matter, though, so long as you continue to breathe and remain intact. They’re the two essential factors to escaping. All else is secondary.

It doesn’t matter how Cassandra views you.

You don’t even like her.

What is there to even be drawn to? She’s covered in blood more often than not. The scent of iron usually drowns out her perfume. She’s capricious and cruel and the living personification of an unsheathed knife. You prefer your routes safer. Playful, creative pretty girls that are good for you and most importantly, sane.

Whatever weird tricks your brain and hormones are playing where she stars –you hate it, what is wrong with you— they’re just delusions, you reason, born from her questionable flirting and your time in captivity. It’s just a really bothersome case of Stockholm Syndrome you’re developing. And it has to stop.

Another week passes. You don’t see her.

You are on another night shift when you hear the telltale buzzing of insects down the corridor. Hervoice reaches your ear afterwards;

“Ugh, Bela, you never complain about anything. It’s so annoying.” Two pairs of heels steadily tap towards you.

“I leave it to you and Dani to cover for me, since you complain about everything.” The quieter sister drawls. You can easily picture her roll her eyes as she says it.

“You know, you really should sound more thankful I came with you in this unearthly cold.”

“I gave you the option not to—”

“Just to have you rummage through that bookshop for what was definitely the most boring twenty minutes of my life.” Cassandra continues.

From the fleeting glance you steal at them, the entirety of her attention is on Bela. You don’t think she’ll notice you as you continue polishing the corridor’s decorations. It’s just another one of these nights where you don’t exist and you’re deeply glad for it. Not just for yourself, but also the other maids.

“I thought I was going to die of frostbite.” she growls, shaking the elder sister’s arm.

“Technically, you can’t.” Bela shakes hers back.

It would be… cute, if they were any normal family. But you are quick to remind yourself of what they really are. Devils in human form. Monsters that took you from your home and trapped you here, to clean after their mess, with the threat of death looming over your head every second.

Their steps pass you by. You can almost breathe normally again, when—

Cassandra stops.

“Not even going to tell me hello?” The hurt in her voice can’t be genuine, you tell yourself as you turn around to face her. She’s closer than you thought, enough for you to be able to make out the tiny melting snowflakes caught in her long lashes.

“Um—hello.” you say, awkwardly.

“Cassandra.” Bela lets out a soft sigh.

“Bye, Bela.” The brunette pointedly speaks over her shoulder.

And to your horror… “Just keep in mind what mother said about the maids.” the eldest sister leaves you alone with her.

Each further step until the blonde disappears from view fills you with dread. Cassandra has that spark in her eye that you’ve learned to not associate with anything good. She’s completely still until she’s sure the two of you won’t be overheard or interrupted.

Then, she moves.

Her hands all too easily shove you against the wall. It’s more startling than painful, you realize, when your back doesn’t protest much at the collision.

Cassandra maintains eye contact with you as she tugs at the fingers of her gloves. You cannot fathom why it looks that sexy, the way she pulls them off, whether it is intentional or not.

“Plaything.” she says. Another new nickname for you. Not that you ever expected her to care to know your name. “I’m terribly cold.” she doesn’t seem to be lying, though the soft pout that curves her mouth is surely for effect.

It’s a test and your wellbeing depends on it.

Only, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. Ruling your nerves under control, you decide to start slow. “Shall I light the fireplace in your room, my lady?”

“Maybe I want something more… immediate.” she replies, raising her hand to your neck.

The second her freezing skin touches your flesh, you cannot help but flinch. It feels like a slightly softer block of ice. Cassandra’s eyes creak at the corners. Of course, the sadist is enjoying your torment. Slowly, her fingers move under the collar of your black button-up shirt, which only makes it worse. The cold spreads, a peculiar tingle at your stomach with it.

“Well?” she asks. You get the memo that just sitting back and letting her have her way isn’t going to work, this time. You call upon all the willpower you possess and act.

Carefully, your hands rise to meet her own. You aren’t looking at her in the eyes –you don’t think you could— as your fingers wrap around hers and bring them in front of you, close to your body, warmed from hours of work. Instead, your gaze locks on the golden jewel decorating the chocker at her throat, before falling down, to your point of contact.

It is not the first time you see her hands without gloves on, but it only now hits you just how dainty they look. Her nails, filed round, are dyed a darker shade of crimson, stark against the white of her skin. There isn’t a single blemish or uneven spot you can feel on her palm. It is a princess’ hand you seem to be holding, not a killer’s.

But appearances can be deceiving.

The very corner of Cassandra’s lip curls up, amused or pleased or both. She then reaches forward, at the lowest clasped button of your shirt… and frees it open. You’re sure you aren’t breathing. Two more buttons are released. Her fingers, at least now considerably warmer, splay against your stomach. Something inside you quivers like a flickering candlefire.

You don’t want her touch.

But a traitorous, weak part of you has already decided that it does.

“You work out?” it is merely a whisper between you. She presses a little closer, entirely unashamed to be feeling the contours of your middle up while you’re burning with embarrassment.

“…probably the days of working in the fields.” you say, voice low because it cannot be trusted any higher. She’s doing a little thing with her thumb over your skin that you desperately want to deny turns you on.

Thanks to her you’re now freezing and burning at the same time.

Cassandra just stays like that for a few more seconds.

“Draw me a hot bath.” she eventually orders and extracts herself from you as if she’s not remotely happy with her own decision.

-

-

You don’t really know how she likes her bath and she doesn’t tell you.

All you can do as you test the water on your hand is pray. Your mind isn’t really working right after the touching at the hallway, but your survival instincts are strong still. Strong enough to remind you that Cassandra likes to be treated like royalty above all, so bubbles are your best friend in this. The more, the merrier.

The Dimitrescu daughter does not ask if the bath is ready when she comes in. You aren’t used to her being so silent, so you turn to see if something is wrong –but immediately regret it when the heavy robe clinging to her body drops down. The only glimpse you catch is of the fabric pooling at her feet like a shadow.

Your eyes stay glued on the queen-sized bathtub, even when she approaches. They turn to the side as she enters it.

You want to ask if the water is fine, but you can’t find your voice. You lose even your train of thought when she lets out a small hiss as she sinks in, replaced by a moan once she’s completely settled back, neck tilted and eyes closed in bliss. The polite thing is to let her bathe in peace, so you move to do just that.

Cassandra has other plans.

Her hand shoots out of the tub to wrap around your wrist, inescapable as an iron shackle. Those intense yellowish eyes are on you again and they seem to be glowing under the dim lights.

“No.” she says. “Massage. Now.”

Ah, great. You think. You’ve spoiled her. But if giving Cassandra massages is what is going to keep your hands attached to your body, you won’t complain. It’s just that… you can’t really focus right now. None of your thoughts are right or remotely what they should be. You need time off from her, rather than touching her.

Thankfully, the moans are kept to a minimum and there is no teasing. She is utterly relaxed, only giving the occasional command for higher or lower. It does kind of kill you when at one point she whispers “Right there.” but you are able to move past it.

You leave fresh towels beside her when you’re finally allowed to leave. Back in her bedroom, you light the fireplace in a way that you make sure will last through the day, while she’ll be asleep. The plan is to leave before she returns, but she’s already there by the time you’re finished with the preparations.

And –you’re trapped.

Because, again, she’s changing and you have to look away to preserve your sanity and probably your eyes. “No peeping, now.” she calls over her shoulder. You know better than to dare.

You keep your hands busy arranging bottles and boxes at her vanity until she’s done. Cassandra does that ‘flashing’ thing where she’s on one side of the room one moment and right behind you the next. You only then notice a little insect flying back into her form. It was spying on you.

“You didn’t even look near me, huh.” she says it like ‘congratulations, you passed’, but there’s a bitter undertone of disappointment in her voice.

She’s only feeling down that you didn’t give her an excuse to slice at your face, you think. Then again, does she really need one?

“I wouldn’t, my lady.” you assure. “If I may be excused—”

“Did I say you can go?” she turns you around, none-too-gently, her hands on your biceps tight. You’re effectively pinned against her and the vanity, but you have much bigger problems to worry about, when you take in what she’s wearing.

Cassandra is clad in a flimsy nightrobe that leaves little to the imagination, the fabric nearly see-through. You can see the edges of her lacy underwear underneath it, how nicely it sits against her perfect curves. To make matters even worse, the robe ends at about mid-thigh and your eye catches the expanse of creamy skin on display.

Your brain nearly melts.

“I don’t know what it is about you, plaything, but you’re working up my appetite.” she confesses, pressing into you, pressing you harder into the furniture. You try to think of literally anything else than how well her thigh is slotted between your legs.

If you’re supposed to look away from her lidded eyes, however, you can’t. And if you’re not supposed to feel the echo of her nails on your arm all the way down to your center, you can’t. You are definitely not supposed to be so achingly curious about her bow-shaped lips. But you just can’t.

“You’re working me up.” she breathes, so close you can feel the ghost of her lower lip on yours.

And then –her mouth is on you and you forget how to breathe. Your eyes close and just feel, instead. If this is how you die, maybe it isn’t such a bad way to go. It’s been too long since you kissed anyone, seems like ages ago now, but you gradually remember how to move once you allow your muscles to unlock.

Not looking at her makes it easier. Her lips are balmy and smooth and slide so good on your own you can’t think at all, much less of what she’s capable of. You would have guessed her to be aggressive, but Cassandra is oddly hesitant, the only thing hard about her being her grip.

You’re not sure what you’re doing or how you get so bold, but your hands trail up to her waist and pull her in. The little hitch in her breath threatens to break you. It provides the perfect opening to part her lips with your tongue. As soon as it touches hers, she moans low in her throat and slowly drags her hips against your thigh.

Oh. God.

There’s a hollow ache in your stomach. You’re shamefully wet for her. The voice of reason is mute in your head, until you’re forced to break your liplock to breathe and it only then hits you what you’ve just done.

Cassandra’s lips are insistent on your jawline, on the vulnerable spot under your ear. Her open-mouthed kisses are just hard enough, at first, but then start to border on painful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel the press of teeth, yet she rips herself off of you before she bites down.

“Ugh. I’m… so thirsty.” she says it lightly, but her voice is hoarse and something about her body language gives you the impression she’s hurting. “You should leave. Fast.”

You almost make the mistake of reaching for her. Almost.

Cassandra turns away from the temptation of your veins.

For both your sakes –mostly for yours— you hurry out of her room and never stop to look back.

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

[dastardlydandelion]

my thoughts on fear street 1666 now that i finished scrubbing all the toilets, got to go home and watch it

holy shit. that movie. wow. 

it wasn’t as fun as the other two. didn’t employ the same campy tropes. didn’t present itself in a flourish of period typical style. while i enjoyed the first two films paying homage to classic horror tropes and making the most of the stylish side of their respective environments, i am v grateful and relieved that 1666 *wasn’t* as fun as the other two and actually presented the horror of puritan fanaticism and witch accusations more srsly. imo it portrayed that grave, twisting dread that the subject matter calls for. i appreciate that bc i think i would’ve been uncomfortable if they attempted to do smth more campy with the time period given what we already knew abt the circumstances of sarah’s death even before the film. 

more of me blathering on and on abt fear street 1666 under the cut: 

the twist actually worked on me this time. they actually got me on this one, u guys. i rly watched this franchise believing sarah fier was possessing ppl and wreaking her vengeance on the town, but this whole time it was the fuckin’ goodes. nick, i never liked u, i think ur more interesting than i did before before when u were a generic as generic gets asshole, so now ur somewhat more interesting but even bigger of an asshole than i gave u credit for. ur literally the worst asshole of assholes, ur a walking infected hemorrhoidal rectum of a human being. 

don’t get me wrong, i always thought sarah was going to be portrayed sympathetically. i never doubted that. my theory was that sarah was going to be a sympathetic villain. i thought 1666 would’ve revealed why she cursed shadyside. i figured she would’ve cursed her townsfolk for turning their backs on her, maybe, or hurting/killing hannah, or using her for her witchcraft and then getting angry if it backfired on them, or smth like that. i thought we were going to watch a story abt sarah’s descent into darkness and while she’d defo be a tragic villain, she rly would be the person behind the possessions...but it wasn’t even her. she and hannah were just vulnerable to the town’s suspicion and persecution bc they were queer women who didn’t behave the way society wanted them to behave. and they were blamed for evil actually wrought by heterosexual men in power, and when sarah realized there was no way out of it, she took the blame upon herself so hannah was spared and she cursed only the goode family?? 

THAT IS SO MUCH BETTER. FUCK. THAT IS SUCH A BETTER STORY. kudos to this trilogy for being more intelligent than it ever had to be, when it could’ve just skated on the notoriety of the fear street series, the style, and billing notable cast members. 

so yeh, i defo 100% appreciated the goode men from wealthy sunnyvale being revealed as the true villains. i actually got my wish of nick getting killed in the face. i love that sarah possessed deena to do it herself!!! and deena!! oh man, i love deena so much. she was wearing a homebrew vest to protect herself made of fear street novels + duct tape, u gotta love it. ig she wanted to prepare herself since sam stabbed her at the end of 1994. on that note, she’s v active in this film for someone who has a fresh abdominal stab wound and i mean, the situation defo calls for it, but i hope she remembered to properly dress it and take a couple ibuprofen or smth. shit, i’m gettin distracted again. okay!! 

i loved errything that went down in the mall. i adore that josh and adult ziggy got more time to shine. i was so! so! happy at martin’s inclusion on the action. he deserved that after the way nick treated him in 1994. our occupations are also p similar so i defo relate to martin on that front. i loved it all the neon and blacklight stuff at the mall. that part was v stylish, that was p cool. spraying the killers with the blood so they kill each other!! yes! that was perfect!! it was incredibly practical and enjoyable for me, as a gore fan, to watch. 

i liked the sticky note on the wall at the end from deena and josh’s dad, that he had a job interview. i wonder if this is bc the curse of shadyside has been lifted with the end of the goodes?? 

yk, i feel like now knowing what we know abt the actual evil, i gotta wonder how much re-watch value there is to be gleaned from this trilogy. for example, in 1978, nick liked ziggy and didn’t want her to die. he performed cpr on her even tho she’d been stabbed a fuck ton of times and tbvh, the chances of success of resuscitation depending on what exactly it is was ziggy succumbed to seem v slim. at first i attributed this to a suspension of disbelief bc this is fiction (and to be fair crazy do happen sometimes irl, ykw, sometimes reality can surprise u) BUT now i’m sittin here like...was the cpr successful bc nick’s deal with the devil gave him the power to do that?? did his bargaining of others’ souls and offering them up for possession grant him the ability to have some control in that situation somehow? at least more than a normal human being should?? idk. it’s a thought. 

what else, what else? 

i feel like outta the three, 1666 had the most tension overall. i was p gosh darn emo abt the relationships. deena and sam’s relationship i’ve cared abt since the beginning but the contrast of them getting the opportunity to have it and be together, in parallel to the way sarah and hannah’s ended just moves u. or, it moved me at least. sarah tells hannah they’ll go somewhere and kiss in broad daylight before kissing her in almost total darkness, and then the film ends on deena and sam kissing in the sun. i was also glad deena and josh’s sibling relationship got touched on a lil bit more. thought it was cute that she tried to cook for him and produced smth that just dead ass looks inedible. i also thought it was sweet that ziggy reunited with nurse lane. she can do that now, she can leave her house without fearing the return of the curse, and she deserves it. <3

i’m impressed with the trilogy overall. each movie easily could’ve been an r-rated goosebumps episode and imo all were certainly better than that. i feel like each film was better than the previous, but personally enjoyed each one. some things were p predictable but i think much of that is intentional. 1994 and 1978 were clearly paying homage to classic slashers and familiar horror tropes. i personally didn’t find the predictability off-putting bc i recognized what they were trying to do, and felt the quality in the other elements made up for it. i was genuinely shocked by the actual villain reveal, i personally didn’t predict that. again, i always thought sarah was going to be sympathetic and i never liked nick at all, but i didn’t suspect sarah was just. dead ass *not* going to be a villain or that he was going to be the big bad. 

really dug the style of these films. loved that we got an interracial lesbian couple who made it thru the trilogy without either the predatory lesbian trope or the byg trope happening. i liked most of the characters we got to know and the only character who *rly* grated on my nerves was the villain who got stabbed in the eye. 

gosh, i want more fear street movies!! if i had to pick one outta any of the slashers featured, i’d want to see ruby lane’s story. i would like to see this production team milking the most outta the environment in the 50s, the style of the 50s, music, and whatnot. i enjoyed nurse lane even tho she was super bad at murder, so it’d be cool to see her again and who she was before her daughter got possessed and killed 7 ppl. also, ruby sings when she kills?? 

that’s weird and creepy and neat. totally down for it. 

[jooniyah]

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.

✧ ═════ ✥.❖.✥ ═════ ✧

  Taglist: @saxpam24 @dameleia​ @min-hoax @rkivemagic @aassiyaa @sinner-aura @lmepno @belovedjinnie @flowesona @nooooooooona @gucieguciekook @angellgguk @forever-once-gone @swon09ah @ciderxi @mooniconic @jeon-junggoop @t-e-r-r-i--f-i-e-d  @byebyebycycle @boneless-piza @xx-naina-xx 

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Broken Down (Pt.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: When your car breaks down on the side of the highway, you’re picked up by a kind couple who apparently have a thing for picking up hitchhikers, judging by the boy in the back seat. What started as a ride turns into a horror story. 

Warnings: NONCON ELEMENTS (it’s Carl and Sandy and if you are reading this, you’re damn well aware of what they do - no full on rape though! Just noncon touching), murder/ serial killers, being held at gun point, description of blood and violence, typical Carl and Sandy stuff

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: There are parts of this that are from the movie directly and I do not claim to own those parts. All other original parts are mine though!

Part 2 out now!

____________________________________

It was no secret that Sandy was unhappy with her life with Carl anymore. She wasn't quiet about it- not even to him. Any logical person would think that she'd be scared to tell her serial killer partner that she was tired of killing people but she wasn't sure if she cared about the outcome anymore. She already felt dead inside. 

"Carl, I'm done." 

"C'mon, Sandy. It's not that bad." Carl tried to convince his partner, looking over at her from behind the wheel. 

Sandy scoffed sadly, "I don't like when they cry." 

"But they take the best pictures," Carl responded insensitively. They drove on in silence for a while down the highway, ever consciously looking for their next victim. "You know what? How about we try something new, huh? We can try to make this next one a little more interesting." 

Sandy rolled her eyes and stared out at the landscape as it blurred past on their trek along the highway. That wasn’t what she meant and Carl knew it. She didn’t want to make things more interesting. She wanted out. She knew it was no use arguing, though. Carl always got his way. 

**

You stood at the edge of the road, thumb extended as the occasional car passed by, to no avail. Your car sat dead in the turn out behind you. Your duffel bag was laid down on the ground by your feet, your dark blue floral skirt blowing against the material when the breeze blew. Of all the roads to break down on, it just had to be the one in the middle of nowhere Ohio - West Virginia border where almost no cars drove past. It was beginning to get dark and your nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being stuck in the woods alone at night. 

Finally, a car drove up to you and you waved your hands to get their attention, put on your nicest smile, and stuck your thumb out. The vehicle slowed to a halt beside you and you saw three people in there, a woman driving, a man rolling his window down to talk to you, and a young man in the backseat. "What's a sweet girl like you doing out here stuck on the side of the road?" The man questioned with a smile. 

"My car broke down and I just need to get into town to call a mechanic." You gestured back to your old yellow Ford that had started acting up a little ways back. When you pulled over to take a look at it, it just wouldn't start up again. 

He looked over at the pretty blonde lady driving, giving her a look you couldn't see but she returned one that you couldn't quite read. The man turned back to you with a smile, “Well we’re dropping this fella off in Meade but I’m sure we could drop you in the next closest town. Shouldn’t be too far if you’d like a ride.” 

A smile spread across your face, “Thank you so much.” You picked up your duffel bag and hustled over to the side of the car that was bordering the road, sliding into the seat when you threw the door open. 

“What a good day for makin’ new friends, huh, honey?” The man said chipperly before turning around to look at the two of you in the back seat. “What were your names?” 

“Y/N.” You answered warmly, glancing over at the boy beside you who sat stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. You’d assumed he was with the couple but it seemed you may have been wrong. 

He swallowed after a brief pause, his eyes widening in fear for a moment, “Arvin, sir.” 

“Well, Arvin and Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you two. I’m Carl and this is my wife Sandy.” He patted Sandy on the shoulder and she gave him a small forced smile. Trouble in paradise, you thought. “Where you from Y/N?” 

Your hands laid prim and proper in your lap, holding your skirt down from the breeze from Carl’s rolled down window, “Just a small town not too far from here actually. Barren Springs? Not many people have heard of it.” 

“Can’t say I have,” Carl shook his head. 

Arvin chimed in for the first time since you’d gotten in the car, “I've been through there for work before.” 

“Yeah? You live nearby?” You asked, looking over at him. A blush heated your cheeks at the site of the handsome young man. His curly brown locks were messily pressed down against his head from the baseball cap that he had curled up in his lap. 

Arvin just nodded a little when he made eye contact, “Coal Creek.” He swallowed hard, before his eyes darted away from yours and bounced off every moving object he could see.

“Oh, nice! I’ve only ever driven through it on the way to my grandparent’s house but it’s a cute little town.” You chipped, waiting for a response from Arvin but he only gave you a curt nod and fidgeted his hands along his legs. A thick silence settled over the car for a moment and you cast your gaze away from the attractive boy down to the mechanism that allowed the driver’s seat to adjust on the ground of the car, suddenly feeling like you overstepped with Arvin with your seemingly innocent comment. 

“Looks like you’re set for a trip. You leaving or coming home?” Sandy asked, looking at you through the rear view mirror. 

“Comin’ home,” You responded, replacing that polite smile and slightly higher voice you did when speaking to strangers, “A friend of mine from high school moved to Blacksburg with her sweetheart. I just went out there for their wedding.” You smiled at the memory of their ceremony. It was one of those marriages that you just knew was meant to be. 

“Awe, I just love weddings.” She said dreamily, gazing nostalgically out across the road. 

You smiled and made a small noise of agreement. At the thought of weddings, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the idea of marrying the man sitting beside you. It was silly, you knew, fantasizing about marrying a complete and total stranger. Barren Springs didn’t have many good suitors to pick from and you had yet to make it out on your own into the world. It had been a long time since you’d been physically attracted to anyone as strongly as you were attracted to Arvin. Besides, you weren’t fantasizing about marrying him, per se, but more so just having a wedding with him. The thought of seeing him so handsome and dressed up and the way his eyes would sparkle with adoration when he saw you walk down the aisle in your dress. It was ridiculous! You could have laughed at yourself. You just wanted to think that maybe there was some possibility that he thought you were half as beautiful as you thought he was. 

After some time driving in silence, with you sneaking many glances at the man sitting beside you, Carl spoke up, “Oh shit, my old billy don’t work like it used to. I’m gonna have to pull over and take a leak.” He trailed off, looking over at Sandy with a smile. She gave him a sharp look but slowed down. You wondered just how often of an inconvenience this must have been if she seemed so annoyed by the request. “Is that alright by you two?” He asked a little louder, directing the question at you and Arvin. 

You and Arvin both got strange looks on your face, finding it strange that he felt the need to ask if he could use the restroom. “Sure,” Arvin muttered. 

“Yeah, of course.” You added, eyes flicking between the man and woman up front. 

“There should be a road up here on the right,” Carl directed Sandy, “Little further. Little further. Slow down. Right here.” The car slowed and rolled to a stop, rocks crunching beneath the tires. “This is good.” 

You craned your head to watch the main road disappear a few dozen feet behind you and your nerves perked up. Arvin must have noticed the way you sucked a deep breath in, louder than usual, because he glanced over at you with a look in his eyes that told you that your sudden uneasiness was not unfounded. You watched as his eyes shot back and forth between the couple and then around at your surroundings. 

You began to pick at the hem of your dress. Hitchhiking was something you tried to avoid at all costs and managed to do so successfully until this very day because the idea of getting in a car with a stranger made you nervous. You knew that in all likeliness, Carl probably was just going to use the restroom and then return and you’d be on your merry way. The little indecipherable looks he and Sandy kept shooting each other didn’t escape your notice though. 

“I won’t be long.” Carl reassured, opening the door and stepping out. As he did, his jacket lifted and you saw the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants clear as day and your eyes widened in silent panic. 

A lot of people own guns out here, you tried to rationalize but it still didn’t sit right with you. None of this did. A rock the size of Texas sat heavy in your gut and you had an extreme urge to get as far from here as possible without raising suspicions. For one, it would be extremely awkward if you were wrong and you were freaking out over nothing. On the other hand, if they were planning to kill you, it could speed up the process before you could think up a way out of it. 

You glanced over at Arvin and it was clear that he had noticed the gun as well because his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes followed Carl like a hawk watching a rabbit. Your hand slid across the seat and you nudged his leg, nodding ever so slightly towards Carl with wide implying eyes. Arvin breathed deeply and nodded, having seen exactly what you had seen. It was validating to know that Arvin didn’t feel right either but it was also even more unnerving because it meant the likelihood of danger was more likely. 

Arvin rolled the window down to watch Carl more clearly and Sandy shifting up front drew your attention. You looked up to see her absentmindedly trying to light a match for the cigarette that hung between her lips. Finally, she got it lit and brought the flame to the tip of her cigarette. You watched her do this with intent, so much so that you jumped when Carl leaned through Arvin’s window and loudly announced, “Damn. That’s gonna be one fine sunset. You have to be patient with me while I get a few shots off. Hon, give me the key.” 

He must have noticed the uncomfortable looks on yours and Arvin’s faces because he reassured, “Don’t you worry none. We’ve got some hooch in the back and… well, you got two pretty ladies with ya.” Carl raised his eyebrows at you and his partner before looking back at Arvin with a wink, “And Sandy’s good company.” 

You fidgeted uncomfortably at the way Carl added that last part, not liking the way his tone implied certain things. Sandy turned around to shoot the pair of you a smile, one that both of you returned with a hard swallow in an attempt to not show that you were highly suspicious of whatever the hell this was. Your gaze went back to Carl, where the keys made a bulge in this back pocket and your heart fell at the sight. Those keys were your only chance of getting out of here. 

The back of the car opened and you turned around to watch Carl retrieve a camera and a blanket, the gun still firmly in his waistband, before walking up to the side of the car and opening the door. Arvin flinched and looked over at Carl who motioned outside, “How ‘bout we all share a drink over this beautiful sunset. What y’all think?” 

Your voice came out shaky, “Thank you but I don’t drink. It might be best if we get headin’ out sooner than later though. My ma’s expecting me home soon and I don’t wanna worry her.” Whether or not your words were lies was a moot point. Getting out of the car just felt like a bad move. 

Carl shrugged, “Well, then, you can just watch the rest of us share a drink then. And don’t you worry. We’ll be on the road soon enough- just as soon as the sun sets. Your mama shouldn’t be too worried. Now why don’t you two come join us.” This time, it didn’t sound like much of a question. 

Sandy had thrown her door open and stepped out onto the earth outside, slamming the door shut. You were surprised when she opened up your door and leaned against it, “C’mon, hon. You don’t have to drink any. Wouldn’t wanna miss such a pretty sunset, though, would you?” 

With a partner on either side of you, you and Arvin looked at each other, knowing neither of you had a choice but to get out of the car. Reluctantly, you stepped out and walked around the back of the car towards the clearing that Carl was now leading Arvin too as well. He laid out the blanket on the ground and gestured for you and Arvin to sit down. Sandy followed shortly after with a mason jar full of a light peach liquid. She unscrewed the cap and took a swig straight from the jar, “I made it myself out o’ some strawberries I grew back home.” 

“The best stuff in Ohio. My girl’s got a real gift.” Carl winked at his wife, who handed him the jar. He too took a sip before passing it to Arvin. Arvin just shook his head before murmuring a polite decline. Carl tsked, “C’mon boy. Don’t wanna hurt my wife’s feelings.” Arvin’s jaw tensed before he slowly took the strawberry hooch from your host and tilted it till the liquid touched his lips, though you couldn’t quite tell if he actually let any of the liquid enter his mouth or not. 

He handed the jar back to Carl, not offering you any and you wondered if he was trying to respect your comment about not indulging in alcohol or if he was trying to keep you safe. Regardless, you were grateful. Carl raised the jar towards you, offering it silently, but you put your hand up, “Thank you but I’ll have to pass. I’m sure it’s delicious though.” 

“Alright, suit yourself.” He said with a shrug, taking a sip himself before screwing the lid back on and setting it on the blanket. 

Sandy came to sit just beside you and Arvin on the blanket, looking up at her husband who was still standing. “Wouldn’t they make a cute couple, Carl?” She pondered out loud and you couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks at the thought. Arvin shifted beside you, most likely feeling just as weird about the comment as you did. 

“Now, Sandy, no need to make the poor kids uncomfortable,” He chided lightly, turning around, “But, y’know, this is a real nice picture. Do y’all mind if I take a few shots for posterity’s sake? I mean, seein’ as we probably won’t see each other again after today.” 

Before you could answer, Sandy was already scooting in close to Arvin and forcefully initiating a pose, “Alright, now you,” Carl pointed at you, “Scootch in just a little closer.” Your arms shook as they lifted your body enough to move a few inches closer to Arvin. “Perfect. Now everyone smile.” You tried your hardest to force a smile but you couldn’t get one out that was worth any photo. 

Carl stood up, as if he was in thought, “I’m a photographer and I would love to get some posed shots if y’all wouldn’t mind. Now, Sandy, why don’t you step back for just a moment while we get these two together. Good. Now, Arvin, you put your arm around her- good! Just like that.” 

Arvin awkwardly placed his arm on the ground behind your back, just close enough to look like the two of you were leaning into each other. Carl pulled away from the camera with a smile, “Sandy is right. You two would make a cute couple. Now, Sandy, why you don’t hop back in there. Perfect.” 

Carl paused for a moment to ponder his next pose, “Now, Arvin, why don’t you lean back and touch my wife. Y/N, I want you to kiss him while he does it.” 

The instructions slipped from his lips with such little reservation that you were convinced you misheard him for a moment. The man had been fairly polite thus far, if not a bit odd with his quips and pryingly friendly remarks, so the bluntness with which he just told you and Arvin to perform semi-sexual acts on each other and his wife took you off guard. “Excuse me?” You shrank back, ripping your body away from Arvin and Sandy with a velocity that almost jolted you.  

When you did, your hand grazed a large patch of skin that had previously been covered with her fuzzy cheetah print coat. You whipped around to see her sitting behind you in nothing but her underwear and you quickly realized that you had grazed just beneath her bare breast. “What the fuck!” You jumped, moving away from the nearly nude woman. 

Arvin jumped when her hand rested on his shoulder and moved away as well, looking between the man and woman who clearly saw nothing wrong with what they were doing. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here but we’re leaving.” Arvin pressed with a firm voice, standing up and offering his hand to you, pulling you up to almost be tucked into his side, his hand staying on your arm protectively.

Carl looked at him like he was some naive boy. “Boy, I’m giving you the opportunity to fuck my wife and that beautiful girl over there while I take pictures. You’re a damned fool if you turn this down.” 

“You guys are sick. I will not be having sex with anyone here today!” You exclaimed indignantly at Carl’s implication that you were going to be just fine with this. 

The older man looked over to you and waved his hand with a cocky knowing smirk. “I’ve seen you lookin’ at ‘im the whole drive. You’re tellin’ me you don’t want to make love to this boy right here? And what about my wife? You ever been with a woman?” Carl asked, eyes flicking back to Sandy, who wiggled her breasts and gave you a comforting look that told you she would help you through whatever experience you may have lacked.

You found yourself stepping backwards, away from Arvin even. Your head shook, a boiling mixture of terror, rage, and embarrassment burning inside you, “I-I-I already told you. I ain’t doing no-”

Words failed when Carl reached behind him and pulled out the gun you’d noticed earlier, pointing it right at your chest, “Now look, I hate pointin’ a gun at a pretty young thing like yourself but I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t start doin’ what I say. You and my wife are gonna give this boy the best time of his life and I’m gonna take pictures while you do it. That’s it. You understand?” 

The world around you seemed to freeze while you stared down the barrel of his pistol. You couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Sandy moved closer to you, her lips coming to your neck in a gentle kiss that made your skin crawl. A single tear rolled down your cheek while you stared at the gun that was still pointed at you, Sandy’s hand moving to brush your hair off your neck so she had more access. There was nothing you could do. If you made any move to shove her off, he’d shoot you. If you made a move to run, he’d shoot you. If you tried to knock the gun out of his hand, he’d shoot you. All you could do for the time being was let Sandy do what she would until you could find the right moment to disarm Carl and get the hell out of here. 

She looked up at Arvin with sultry eyes over your shoulder, “C’mon, Arvin. You ever thought about being with two women at once before?” 

Arvin swallowed hard as he watched how you sat with tears welling in your eyes, trying your hardest not to break in this impossible situation. He stood in seething anger and fear, his heart breaking a little when your hands snapped up to grab her wrists as her hands crept around your front and unpopped the top two buttons of your blouse. 

There was a click from Carl cocking the pistol and he took a step closer to you, “I told you I would shoot you if you don’t start playin’ along. This is your last warning. You’re testing my patience, girl.” Your legs were nearly giving out on you when Sandy popped open another two buttons, your bra clearly exposed for everyone to see. Your shirt was unbuttoned as far as it could go before disappearing into the waistband of your skirt where it was tucked in. 

 Arvin looked away from your exposed upper body, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable and violated than you already were. Suddenly, there was a small flash and the click of a camera and Arvin snapped his focus over to Carl to see him snapping pictures of you, half nude and trying not to fall apart. A coil of pure hatred had been building in Arvin since the first direction of sexual acts but now he was on the verge of tackling and killing Carl right now with his bare hands. 

When he looked at you, eyes clenched shut now and silent tears pouring out the corners, he could see Lenora. Both of you were just fearful girls being taken advantage of by someone with too much power. He couldn’t save his sister but maybe he could save you. Arvin could feel his father’s Luger in his pocket but he wasn’t sure if he could draw it and shoot Carl before he could pull the trigger on you. His father’s words came back to him. Wait for the right moment. 

Carl whipped his head over to look at Arvin and snapped at him, “I ain’t askin’ again, son. Get in there and start touchin’ those girls!” Carl took the gun off you for just a moment to point it at Arvin and encourage him to approach you and Sandy. 

Now, it wasn’t that Arvin had no regard for his own life. The last thing he wanted to do was die, especially after how hard he’d had to fight his whole life, but he was more willing to risk getting himself shot than you. His hand had been gripped around his pistol in the pocket of his denim jacket, just waiting for the right moment to get the two of you away safely. In a second, he cocked the gun and drew it quickly, firing sloppily in Carl’s direction. 

Two gunshots rang out. 

You screamed, thinking that Carl had just murdered Arvin before your eyes and that you were next. Your eyes were clenched shut until you noticed Carl seethe in anger and pain, “Fuck! Fuck you boy!” And then multiple more gunshots. 

This time, there were no more groans of pain, only the heavy thud of Carl’s body on the ground. His gun fell to the ground when his hand loosened and you dove for it, snapping out of Sandy’s grip. You landed hard, your bare chest and abdomen scraping painfully against the sticks and rocks when your body slid against the rough ground. You grabbed the gun and turned to point it at Sandy, who had also procured a gun from God knows where and had it aimed right at you. You didn’t hesitate.

Again, there were two bangs. 

You fell back after you fired off your shot and in your panicked state, you couldn’t tell if you’d been hit, your arms had given up supporting your weight on the ground, or if the recoil from the gun was that intense. 

There was the sound of another body hitting the ground. 

Arving rushed to your side, falling to his knees and inspecting you for immediate signs of physical distress. “Are you okay? Were you shot?” 

Your hands ran all over your body, trying to feel for any signs of being shot. You couldn’t feel any part of your body right now, the adrenaline distorting your perception of pain. Even the large bloody scratches on your chest, breasts, stomach, arms, and knees weren’t causing any discomfort at the moment. You shook your head, “I- I don’t think so. Were you?” 

He shook his head, helping lift you to sitting, “No-no, I’m alright. We need to get out of here though.” 

Your knees were shaky as you tried to stand up but they almost gave out on you when you saw the dead bodies on the forest floor. Carl had been shot three times, twice in the chest and once in the arm. Sandy was already pale with a bloody entrance wound in her throat. 

“Oh my God… we killed them.” You were nearly hyperventilating, stumbling backwards. Arvin walked with you, holding you up until you stopped moving. 

“They were gonna kill us. We had no choice.” He held you tightly by the shoulders, looking straight into your teary and panicked eyes. 

“The police ain't gonna believe that.” Your entire life just crumbled to pieces before your eyes, all because you hitched a ride with some strangers. 

Arvin shook his head, “That’s why we gotta get outta here. Leave ‘em. Don’t tell anybody about what happened.” 

His words sunk in and you nodded in agreement. The honest part of you wanted to tell the police. Maybe they could help you but you knew that there was an equal chance they’d lock you up for murder as well. You couldn’t risk it. Running was the only option. 

Carl’s gun was still in your hand and once you realized it, you wiped it down on your skirt before placing it back in Carl’s hand. “What’re you doin’?” Arvin asked, watching you meticulously place it as if it had just fallen in place. 

“Makin’ it look like a murder-suicide. They can’t pin it to us if it don’t look like they were just murdered.” You explained, leaving the gun in his hand and taking a few shaky steps back as you stared at the corpse. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. You had never imagined yourself shooting anyone let alone fixing a crime scene to get away with murder. This was an extreme situation though. You had to shoot Sandy and Arvin had to shoot Carl. They were going to kill you two if you didn’t kill them first.  

Arvin noticed the way your face had noticeably paled and how your eyes were glued to Carl’s body and the splatters of crimson liquid that pooled on his shirt and dripped onto the earth beneath his body. He stepped between you and Carl’s body and put his hand on your shoulder, the other gently on your face. His beautiful face blocked your view but you still struggled to fight the tunnel vision. “Hey, look at me. Look at me!” He urged, his grip on your face getting ever so slightly more firm when he noticed your eyes try to dart around his frame to see the body again. Arvin wasn’t hurting you by any means, just trying to keep you focused on him. “You did what you had to do, ya hear me? They was gonna kill both of us. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Now we just gotta get outta here, okay?” 

You swallowed hard and nodded, your eyes squeezing shut tightly for just a moment to ground yourself. In your brief moment of meditation, you tried to focus on anything to ground you but the only calming thing you could process was Arvin’s comforting hands on your shoulder and face and the way you could feel his gaze still on you with so much concern and determination, even with your eyes closed. 

When you opened them again, you breathed out, “Okay.” 

Arvin glanced down and noticed the thin trails of blood that were starting to dribble down your torso from the deeper scrapes and at first reached out to button your shirt for you but hesitated, his hands shrinking back when he realized he wasn’t sure whether that was the appropriate response. You flinched back a little when he reached for your top out of pure instinct but quickly relaxed. You glanced down, just now noticing that your shirt was still unbuttoned. “‘M sorry, I just…” You trailed off, unsure of how to explain your new reaction in light of the trauma you’d just gone through. Your fingers nimbly began to button up your shirt but you hissed when the fabric tightened around the copious lesions. 

“No, it’s alright. Here, take my jacket.” He was already shrugging off the denim jacket before he finished speaking. 

You put your hand up, clutching the opened fabric of your shirt together in your hand in front of your chest instead of buttoning it properly, finding this way you could keep the fabric from sticking to your wounds. “I can’t take your jacket. I don’t wanna get blood on it.” Arvin’s eyes followed yours until they landed on the small spots of blood already seeping through your thin blouse. 

Without allowing you to protest, he slung in over your shoulders, engulfing you arms and all. “It’s fine, really. I insist. You can’t go walkin’ ‘round all exposed like that. I can try to help you clean up if we find any rags.” 

You sighed when the fabric covered your arms and his scent engulfed your senses. Yet again, you found yourself numb to the world, if only for a second, but this time because all you could experience was Arvin Russel. Tunnel vision made him your only view and all you inhaled was the scent of clean musk, wet earth, and the faint scent of car grease. “Thank you.” You whispered, gripping onto the open sides just enough to keep the garment from slipping off your shoulders. 

Arvin just nodded reassuringly before wordlessly taking off towards Carl and Sandy’s car. You followed curiously. He searched around frantically and, while you were unsure of what he was looking for, you were curious to see what he’d find. For the most part, there was nothing out of the usual, until he came across a roll of film in the glove compartment. With trembling hands, he unrolled the small canister and looked at the negatives. “Oh my God-” He trailed off in horror. 

“What is it?” You asked, reaching for the film. The images nearly made you throw up. Even though they were difficult to see because they were only negatives, it was still fairly clear what they were. Pictures of men and Sandy filled the roll but they got progressively more violent and graphic, sexually and gorily. At first, they were just sitting together but then Sandy was topless in the next one and then they were kissing in the one after that and then the man would be naked in the following. Eventually, there’d only be a pool of what you assumed to be blood where his genitals should have been before finally just shots of a motionless bloody corpse that used to be whoever that poor man was.  

“Shit… we were next, weren’t we?” You asked, images of you and Arvin facing this same kind of torture flooding your mind and making your stomach churn. The guilt you had felt for shooting Sandy was melting away and you actually felt almost glad you and Arvin had ended this pair of monsters. They couldn’t hurt anyone else the way they had brutally slaughtered these other men. 

“I think so. Fuck, there’s a bunch of ‘em.” Arvin pulled out at least four other canisters, too scared to open them. It was safe to assume what they were photos of and you really didn’t want to see anymore. 

Your hands shook so much you could barely keep your grip on the negatives, “We need to give these to the police. If we prove they were serial killers, maybe they won’t send us to jail. It was self-defense.” 

Arvin really did appreciate the fact that you so badly wanted to be good and honest. Killing people wasn’t easy and he was pretty damn sure you’d never done it before. Hell, before today, neither had he. Maybe it would be easy for you to get off without any charges if you came clean but he was sure the police would be looking for him for killing Preston Teagarden any moment now. The note he’d left for his uncle and grandma back home was pretty much sure evidence that he was the murderer. If the two of you went to the police, he’d be practically turning himself in. He couldn’t do it. 

“I-I can’t go to the police. I can’t tell you why but I can’t. If you want to go to the police, you can’t tell ‘em I was here. Tell ‘em you was by yourself.” Arvin looked up at you from where he sat in the passenger seat. 

You looked down at him, realization dawning on your face. “You did somethin’, didn’t you? That’s why you were hitchhiking. You were runnin’ away.” 

Arvin got quiet and looked down at the ground where your white shoes, now scuffed up from the encounter, made contact with the soil and leaves that covered the ground. He shouldn’t tell you the truth but for some reason he really wanted to. There was an energy radiating off of you that felt safe and understanding and maybe he shouldn’t trust you but gosh did he want to. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he answered, still avoiding your gaze, “I- I didn’t want to but… he hurt my sister real bad.” 

Your silence scared Arvin. He shouldn’t have opened up, especially to a girl that was practically a stranger. Being nearly killed by a pair of serial killers creates a strange bond between two people though. Arvin’s heart stopped beating until you finally spoke again. “I believe you. It’s okay.” 

The surprise was clear in Arvin’s scared eyes when he finally looked back up to you. You didn’t look scared of him like he had feared. You actually looked almost sad for him. 

Inside, you were. Arvin Russell was a good man - you could just feel it. From your brief but intense experience with him today, you could tell that he was a kind, polite soul but there was clearly a fire that burned inside him, an urge to protect those he cared about. You had seen first hand that he was more than capable of protecting himself and others, even at high stakes… and now so were you. You were no different than him now so you were in no position to judge for what he may have done. 

“If you don’t want to go to the police, we won’t. We can get as far from here as possible and keep this our secret.” You assured, uncomfortable by how comfortable you were with the idea of running from the law.

Arvin took a moment to try and figure out the next step. Whatever it was, it needed to happen fast so you two had enough time to put space between you and the crime scene. He thought to the next closest town and groaned, “What’s wrong with your car?” 

“I don’t know. It just started actin’ up while I was drivin’ and when I pulled over, it wouldn’t start up again.” You thought back to the vehicle, which still sat on the side of the road no more than three miles back.

Arvin stood up from the passenger seat and you stepped aside so he could have some room. “I know a little ‘bout cars. It might not be too bad a fix. Walkin’ back and fixing up the car wouldn’t take as long as walking the next ten or fifteen miles to Falksville.” Arvin was right. You were right between Coal Creek, where apparently Arvin was on the run from, and Falksville, the next town over. It would take hours to walk there. 

“Alright,” you agreed. You walked to the backdoor and opened it to grab your duffel bag, handing Arvin his bag as well. Before the two of you started your trek back to your car, you couldn’t help but look back at the crime scene - the two dead bodies lying motionless, knowing you did that, the way that you had manipulated the scene, the way that you were running away with Arvin to literally flee the police. The weight of the situation weighed on you with a heavy sigh. 

A hand rested on your shoulder, “We did what we had to.” You tore your gaze from the scene, the image burned into your memory for the rest of your life. It was difficult to argue with those beautiful brown eyes that looked at you like you were someone he genuinely cared for, not like you were the stranger to him that you actually were.

You stood up a little straighter, cast one more look over at the scene before turning around to face the road. “I know.” 

**

The walk took almost an hour and neither of you tried to hitchhike your way there. Once you arrived, you attempted to clean your wounds with a pile of napkins you had hidden in your glove compartment and a water bottle while Arvin tinkered under the hood of your car. it didn’t take long for him to figure out the problem and with the help of the tool set your father insisted on you keeping in your trunk in case of an emergency (like this), he was able to get the car up and running. 

“Alright, try it now.” He instructed from under the hood. You sat in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition whenever Arvin instructed to see if the car would turn over. You twisted the key again and the car struggled at first, the pulsing mechanical sound of the car trying to turn over tearing through the quiet woods. Just as you were about to admit defeat this round, the roar of the engine came to life and just like that, your car ran again. 

A big smile spread across your face and you jumped out of the driver’s seat to stand beside Arvin, both of you looking down at the engine beneath the hood. “I can’t believe that worked! Thank you so much!” 

Arvin reached up and shut the hood. “It’s no problem. We should get goin’ though.” 

You nodded in agreement, “Where do you need a ride to?” 

He thought for a moment. Arvin wasn’t quite sure. He had been hitching rides to Meade so he could see his old home but you weren’t going anywhere near that way. He didn’t want to ask you to go so far out of your way but then it occurred to him…. “Where are you goin’?” 

“Back home. My parents are expectin’ me home tonight but I can give you a ride where you need.” You answered as if it were obvious. The best way to act normal was to do exactly that: act normal. 

Arvin chewed his tongue, “You don’t live too far from here. It might be easy to link you to the crime if they catch you.” He didn’t want to scare you but he also didn’t want to see you get locked up. 

You rolled your eyes, “If that were true, they’d have to suspect every person in a thirty mile radius. It’s illogical for the police to single us out. You can stay at my house for a few days, if you need.” 

Arvin just shook his head, “I got some things I gotta do. Look, I really think you should get away for a little while so they can’t connect you to the crime but I understand if not. If it’s not too much to ask, though, would you mind possibly given’ me a lift to Falksville so I can hitch a ride there? I ain’t got much money for gas but-” 

“I ain’t lettin’ you hitchhike your way to Meade. Not after what just happened. I can give you a ride there.” You leaned against the hood of your car and looked up at him sincerely. 

“You sure? What ‘bout your parents? Ain’t they expectin’ you?” 

You just shrugged, “I’ll call ‘em in Fawksville and tell ‘em I decided to head up to Meade for a few days. Shouldn’t be a problem at all. That way I can give you a ride up to Meade and then you can take the bus there to wherever you wanna go.” 

“That’s real kind of you. Thank you.” His hands twitched in his pocket, wanting to reach out and hug you but physical affection had made Arvin nervous ever since his mother got sick. 

You nodded your head back to the car, “Hop in. We can head out and get as far as we can tonight. Either find a hotel or we can switch off when we get too tired.” Arvin listened and wordlessly slid into the passenger seat. 

The two of you drove off into the night, the stars beginning to shine brightly in the lightless woods. You weren’t quite sure what your life would be like now and neither was Arvin. There was blood on your hands and there would be a constant paranoia that one day the cops would catch up with you and throw you in prison, even if you ran away like Arvin had suggested.

And then there was Arvin. Handsome, altruistic, and brave, you were bonded to this stranger by the horrors you had endured and the blood you had shed. Though the two of you were strangers, there was a closeness that you felt to him that seemed impossible to feel with anyone else- a bond between survivors that would always be there, even if you never saw each other again. Something told you that this man would be a salient figure in your life, though. 

As you drove off down the highway, the only sound being the faint crackling radio, you tried to leave the horrors of the road behind you but there was a feeling in your gut that this was far from the end.