Nerve_30 [R] || KNJ
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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]
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Part 30 - Finale [R]
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Genre - cheating; aftermath; husband au;
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Angst; Borderline Assault(Sexual); Attempted Assault(Sexual); Explicit Sexual Implications; Heavy Angst; Anger; Anxiety; Overwhelming Feelings; Memories tied to a traumatic event; Psychological Trauma.; PTSD; Sadness; Emotional Hurt; Comfort; Panic; Dissociation; Self-deprecation; Blood and Violence; Angry/ Protective Namjoon; A very very angry band;
Word Count - 11.3k
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Additional Warnings - Graphic Depiction of Sexual Assault; Intent of Sexual Abuse; Rage; Hopelessness; Guilt; Self-loathing; Self-hate; Violence! Blood; Injury; Verbal Humiliation; Narcissistic Behaviour; Mentions of Grooming; (Implied) Unhealthy Obsession); Explicit Language;
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A/N - This is it. The following update may have potential triggers for psychological trauma not only on the OC but on the reader. It was hard to write. It was hard to read. It was hard to finalize. Please understand that the following chapter contains a complete representation of OC’s current psyche and mental state as she goes through the intended events. PLEASE!! Proceed with caution as this whole update is a MAJOR trigger warning.
The following update contains scenes of a graphic sexual intent. To bypass the scene scroll through the first portion and read AFTER the ’###’ in red.
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‘I said. I Was. Not. Done.’
‘Oh God, no.’ Your voice sounded brittle, even to your own ears. Please, no! ‘Get out!’
Kwang calmly leaned against the door. The only exit, the only way out considering all the windows around you would barely fit a big dog, let alone a person through. He regarded you silently, making no move to do anything you’d asked, or anything you wished.
‘Don’t you think I’ve noticed the dirty looks, y/n? The hostile personalities from idols that are a staple for being polite, for being civil. The minimal words from your head of security, that mind you, answered only to me once upon a time.’ He stalked you, with each added sentence, speaking softly… smoothly. The tone grating against your nerves. ‘Haven’t you learned enough from trying to tell your father?’ His pity filled gaze made you feel small until he gave it up and shook his head.
His easy going stance fell away and his hard stare made you tremble a little. ‘It’s not their business, y/n and it’s not such a big deal.’ Hard features immediately softening, coaxing… confining. ‘Let’s face it, princess,’ he narrowed his gaze and you stepped back as he got closer, ‘did you not think, maybe for one minute, that you deserved it?’
You shook your head. But even you couldn’t deny that you had had your doubts. Because you did think that. You spent days, nights, going back in time, agonizing over how you carried yourself, how you portray yourself, if you had ever, even once, given any indication that would motivate his actions. You always came up short. Because in your head, you never had any sexual intention. Nothing you said or did with regards to Kwang, was even remotely sexual.
‘I didn’t,’ you breathed out and shook your head. You flinched as your back hit the wall.
There was something wrong with you… you used to think so. Because why would your own father not believe you. You internalized it all, every bad thing, every mistake… was a failing on your part, by association, a failure for your Sung Y/l/n. By being a failure, maybe it didn’t make sense, but maybe you deserved what happened to you.
Why were you the wrong one, the bad one, the attention seeker… As some of your co-workers pointed out, ‘the hard-up bitch in heat’. Yeah, you’d heard the rumors, you dealt with the judgemental looks and harsh whispers. You were the best intern, and you moved up the ranks by both nepotism and knowing how to do your job – neither of which was well received by colleagues.
In the end it was your fault that Sung didn’t believe you or at least, didn’t do anything about it.
Before everything had happened, Kwang Jae was a constant in your life. He was always the first person you’d confide in. He was the project leader, that delegated, that stayed late to show you the reins that guided you through the legalities and the PR, and the providing knowledge on office politics that kept you informed.
He was your shoulder to cry on, he was the one to offer a random cup of coffee in the morning and lunch on a bad day. He was the one with the great advice and the life experiences and it was always Kwang’s office and Kwang’s house, and Kwang’s “safe” hugs.
The rebellious side of you that was so proud of throwing Kwang Jae in your parents faces was given one the biggest karmic reality checks. In Sung’s head, how could you complain about the same man?
Of course, you had just brought it on yourself.
But it was also true, that you had never once strayed in that direction.
You acted out of pure love, expecting to have it received in the same manner. Not this.
‘I didn’t deserve it!’ You denied, your hurt pride playing a big part of the statement.
Kwang gave you a pitiful look. ‘Aw, princess.’ He placed his hands on either side of your head as you cowered away. Your skin crawled at his closeness. The atmosphere was heavy and awkward and your breathing got more shallow as he leaned in further, effectively popping your personal bubble. You turned your head, shaking violently against the possibilities of what he could do and wishing for the life of you, you could defend yourself. ‘You don’t really believe that, do you?’ His words ghosted over you. ‘Think about it. All those late nights working, and early morning texts, all the memories we have together…’ His gaze dropped to your lips. ‘How else did you expect me to respond?’
‘Not like that!’ You found the energy to spit the words at him. This was so hard. Addressing it, making it real. ‘I never asked for that.’ You closed your eyes and vehemently denied his manipulation.
You knew yourself. You never thought of him that way.
He hummed. He was calm. Too calm for your liking. ‘I’ve missed you.’ Me too. But the old you. The good you. ‘I’ve missed our talks and our phone calls.’
The good days. Pathetic. You were pathetic! Because some part of you longed for those days back. Some part of you still hoped he would remember that there really were good days and some amazing memories, as a daughter, as a mentee, as a friend. Some part of you wanted him to be better, to stand before you and apologize. Some part of you still fucking cared about him.
And you hated how dirty you felt to even validate those feelings, because in your mind and maybe in general, it invalidated what he did to you. You made it okay. But it was not. It was far from okay. You hated feeling like you were used this whole time – like none of it was real. You hated that you had to deal with the pain, the betrayal, the loss of a father figure all over again.
Above all you longed for this all to be over and act like it never happened just so you didn’t have to suffer through the memory of it. You wished he would look at his actions, his behavior toward you, and think and fucking realize that what he did was wrong.
‘Would it be so hard,’ his one hand lifted a strand of your hair and ran it through his fingers. You wanted to turn away from the sight when he bent his head to sniff it, but you willed yourself to meet his gaze when he was done, ‘to think of me in that way.’ His eyes roved over your face, gauging for a reaction, the intention in them making you want to cower in fear. 'You want me, you just don’t know it yet.’
You shook your head as he tucked your hair behind your earlobe and the knuckle of his middle finger brushed against the underside of your ear. You shut your eyes and forcefully opened them again – you wanted to keep your eyes open. You had to see. ‘Years, y/n.’ The backs of his fingers traced over your cheek. ‘Years we spent together. The things I have wanted to do to you. And your pretty breasts.’ He leaned in. ‘And your lips… ‘A satisfied rumble rolled out of him. ‘Years of imagining how you would taste –,’
‘No! Oh god, no. Please, stop.’ Your voice shook as you turned away in revulsion. You wanted to drop to your knees and hide in a ball. The very thought of it, combined with the wetness between your legs from your earlier antics had you feeling sick to your stomach. Namjoon. Internally you begged for your husband, because this was one demon, you couldn’t fight alone. Namjoon, please.
‘I could take care of you, y/n.’ His sincere words made you cringe, unwilling to even fathom the idea he intended to bring across. ‘It could be like befor–,’
‘Y/n.’ Ria’s voice sounded through the hardwood and cut him off. Hope flared within you. ‘Babe, you’ve been in there awfully long.’ The handle turned, but the door didn’t open. Your heart sank. He’d locked the door. She rapped her knuckles on the wood. ‘Y/n, I can’t get in.’
‘Ria, hel – !’ You yell in a panic and before Kwang covers your mouth with his hand. Ria, please, you screamed in your head.
‘Y/n!’ Ria called and turned the knob with more force.
You pushed at Kwang’s chest, your fear outweighing your disgust when he wouldn’t budge. His hand closed around your throat and pushed your head against the wall. Your eyes watered against the impact. And you blindly scratched and clawed at his hand. You couldn’t open your mouth, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t even cry out from how hard his thumb and forefinger held onto your jaw.
You squirmed when the hand over your mouth moved between the slit of your dress and his fingers drew a pattern against your inner thigh. Ice tore through you at the sudden reminder - ‘No panties?’ Kwang smiled crookedly. Finding it sexy. 'Makes this way easier than it needs to be.’
Your husband sure. You would forego underwear anytime. But with this man, you wished you had layers between you.
You cowered hard against the wall, wanting to get away from his touch. ‘Now drop your hands… and tell Ria you’re fine…’ he threatened you, ‘or I go higher.’
It was one thing to want to control you, but deriving pleasure from violence was something you had never experienced with him. He used to say that he loved you, cared for you… it was implied that he would never want to hurt you. But someone who loved you… wouldn’t do this.
You nodded fast, when his hand traced the seam between your inner thigh and vagina. 'You’re wet, princess.’ He breathes against you. 'Maybe you were built for a bit of pain with your pleasure after all.’
You shook violently and your stomach lurched at his implication. You would do as he said. As long as it bought you some time. He eased his hold on your jaw, but he kept his fingers placed perfectly, just in case you did the opposite of what he asked. ‘I-I’m fine, Ria. Just slipped.’
‘Oh fuck, are you hurt?’ She tried the doorknob again. ‘Are you able to get up? Try to let me in.’
‘I -,’ you yelped when he pinched your inner thigh, ‘-’ll be out in a minute.’
‘If you’re sure,’ Ria’s voice was unsure – and Ria was never unsure. Maybe she knew. Maybe she would get you out.
His fingers danced across your front, a whisper, a warning, and you squirmed, trying to push your body even further into the wall. 'I’m fine!’ you repeated more forcefully, in an effort to be convincing.
You waited with baited breath, Kwang’s head inclined towards the door, as he listened to Ria’s footsteps disappear. He dropped his hand from between your dress and covered your mouth as soon as the words were out. ‘That wasn’t so hard,’ his warm breath grazed over your face, ‘was it?’
You swallowed hard against the bile at the back of your throat, trusted your instincts, like the last time and found it in you to bring your knee up, hard.
But he deflected your move by lifting his own leg and blocking your kick with his knee. ‘Ah-ah-ah!’ He tutted. ‘I know you, y/n.’ His nose brushed against yours and squirmed against the wall. 'Not again. Not this time.’ Your nostrils burn as you recognize his cologne, a scent that was once so familiar, now repelled you. His eyes were the worst, his smirk, the zest in his features… something… something excited him about you fighting back.
Then you wouldn’t. It was an altogether different thing that some part of you couldn’t. You couldn’t… move again. But how did you get out of this then?
His nose traced along your shoulder, inhaling your scent, getting a fill of whatever sick fantasy played in his head.
You clenched your fists at your sides, wanting to fight this, wanting to defend yourself, just to move, just to try, but when you made to move again… you just stood there. Frozen. You wished this would stop. You wished you could ask why he has to hurt you to get his point across and why now, why after all these years. Your eyes pleaded with him as he muffled your words and the panic overwhelmed you as the tears streamed down your face.
Please. Please. Please. You looked to the ceiling, wishing he would stop, wishing this would all be over.
Your nails dug into your skin, you remained unresponsive as his forefinger traced the seam of your dress on the one shoulder. A soft… light… horrifying touch, that teased your skin as his finger followed the strap from one shoulder to the top of your breast.
‘Fight, y/n.’ He egged you on. ‘You always liked to fight. All that spirit, all that fire.’
You grit your teeth. Closing your eyes, you retreated into yourself. Ice. Be ice. You went into that safe space in your mind, the cold state, the unresponsive one. You were in so much pain. Namjoon. Fuck it all to hell, would Namjoon think something else? If you even got out now, would your family even believe you? Would Namjoon think bad of you? Would he not want you anymore?
‘Guess I can admire my handiwork.’ He leered at you. ‘I was the one to tame you. I had to support you. I had to take care of you… some would say I practically raised you. And it was all so good, y/n.’ He sighs regretfully. ‘We had an arrangement, we had a bond… instead of embracing it, you turned your back on me.’
You heard him. But with every word he sounded further away, like ice water, tricking through your veins, until it formed a barrier, between what you were feeling and no feeling at all.
‘You couldn’t think about me, princess? You couldn’t spare me a little gratitude?’
Oh he had no idea, how many days and nights went by, where you felt like you were in the wrong, where you felt like you owed him for being there for you… and thank some sort of sane part of you, that gripped onto the will to distance and heal and take care of your bruised heart.
'But I’m here now,’ he sounded like he actually believed that you still needed him, like you did back then. 'And we can pick up where we left off.’
You felt… nothing. Not anymore. The man from your past that you had respected, that you loved as a guardian, that you trusted to care for you… he was gone. In fact, he never really existed.
Funnily enough, it didn’t seem like he was too eager about getting his dick inside you.
Rape was faster than this right? You cringed internally at your choice of words. But that was what it was… sexual assault, abuse, grooming… rape. His belt would be unbuckled, his pants down his legs… And your mind maybe fuzzy, and back then it felt every bit like he wanted to force himself on you, which he did… but now… he was pacing himself. It was like he enjoyed… touching you, having access to your body as if he had any right over it. If you were being honest, it felt a bit like mind rape, like having your body respond or not respond physically, because of gentle touches and an emotionally warped connection, but an emotional connection nonetheless that could be drawn from. It made you feel even worse, it made you feel psychotic, because even though every cell in your brain screamed for you to react, your body remained frozen in fear and something… something in you was not pulling away completely. It was disgusting and wrong and you felt betrayed by your own body.
You were not getting out of this one.
And even if you did, you would still be in the wrong. Kwang Jae was a sociable, charismatic, smart, absolutely positive person. That more than made up for a good standing, because he could be that manipulative.
Sniveling openly, uncaring about whether or not he wanted to care, or wanted to hurt you, you realized, after this, you really were going to be all alone, because no one would believe you. Your family wouldn’t want you. Yuna would hate you, blame you, your husband… How could anyone believe in you when you couldn’t believe in yourself? This war inside you, it was exhausting…
You cried against his palm, when his fingertips traced the edge of your dress slit.
‘That’s better.’ He groaned against your cheek when your cries became vocal.
You leaned against the wall so your legs didn’t give out from under you, as you felt a hint of Kwang’s teeth against your shoulder. ‘Come on, princess, give me something. You’re not making this fun.’ A light kiss on your neck, the trail going south. ‘Talk to me, argue with me, just like how you spar with that husband of yours.’
Never! Your blood thrums under your skin and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself quiet, because nobody was allowed to compare themselves with your husband, least of all him.
‘Nothing?’ He lifted his head and gazed at you. ‘No reaction?’ His self-assured smirk chills you to the bone. ‘You must not love him as much as you claim.’ He muses. ‘Maybe all you did was try to replace me with him.’
You finally brought up your fists, struggling against him, a possessive rage in your gut that didn’t know fear, rearing its head when Kim Namjoon was in question.
He catches your wrists in his one free hand and holds them above your head, his elation so apparent it sickened you. ‘That’s more like it.’ He says in a low voice and uses the leverage he has on your hands to get closer to your body, his proximity a suffocating thing.
The air flexes as he leans in…
Wrong. His fingers sought higher, and you couldn’t let him do this to you. Wrong. This was wrong. He was wrong. It was all wrong. His words about your husband somehow woke you up. Your fingers curl back into fists. He’s too heavy to push off, but… You bring your head front in a sharp motion, and headbutt him as hard as you possibly can.
He yelps, and clutches the soft bone of his nose and you forego the pain on your head for the freedom of your wrists.
You want to ignore the instinctive feeling, the anger, the rage, the part of you that wants to fight and get you in trouble with him, because you know it would be no use, but you couldn’t ignore it!
Using all of those feelings of motivation, you pulled back your fist and swung as hard as you could, praying to something or the other in the universe that you met your mark. It did just that as you heard flesh meeting flesh.
‘Fuck!’ Kwang exclaimed as he reared back and held his jaw.
You shook with the force of your actions, an internal war causing complete and utter chaos, because he was the closest man you used to have as a father, and the greatest mentor that helped you hone your skills and you would have once done anything to make him proud and make him happy but not this!
You swatted your tears away and watched as he moved his jaw, then laughed. The fucker laughed as his nose bled and it was terrifying. But you felt the adrenaline.
This man exploited you. He used his niece to get close to you, he used his relationship with your father as leverage, work as an excuse and respect, loyalty, love, for his sick mind games to have some sort of control over you, to be revered, and now you knew, you were nothing… but a good piece of ass.
You breathed hard, your vision got clear, and you held your hands in front of you as the burn in the backs of your eyes consumed you in a feral rage you didn’t know you had. You would get out of this, without screaming, or yelling, or however. But you would!
There’s a glint in his eye when he finally makes eye contact with you. A switch from his calm facade turning into something you’ve never seen…something dark and twisted… Kwang lunged for you at the same time that the door swung open – then all hell broke loose.
###
‘Motherfucker! Get your fucking hands off my wife!’ Namjoon grabbed Kwang by his collar and pulled him back away from you.
Damsel in distress bullshit aside, you were so fucking glad to see him. Namjoon grabbed Kwang by his lapels and punched him in the jaw. He was going to do it again when Jin blocked your view.
‘Y/n,’ Jin rushed toward you and cupped your face in his hands. ‘Are you okay?’ He searched your face and gave you a once over.
Your face screwed up, a pathetic attempt not to fall apart as you dived in his arms. Jin crushed you to him, just as Ria came up from behind. ‘I’m sorry, I had to, I, he –’
‘It’s okay,’ she caressed your hair and comforted you, checking for any marks or bleeding.
You watched as Kwang fought back, swinging wildly, but your husband was too far gone. Kwang was no match for Namjoon’s height, or his build, not to mention his rage. Namjoon turned Kwang around and slammed him face first into the wall. And he pulled back and did it again. ‘Joon, stop!’ Yoongi grabbed one hand, but Namjoon shrugged him off and did it again, until he heard a crunch of bone. ‘Namjoon!’ Yoongi turned around and pushed at his chest. ‘Stop! Y/n needs you!’
Kwang slumped to the floor and spat blood from his dripping nose. ‘Pretty boy packs quite a punch.’ The fucker was till smiling. It was sadistic.
Years. Fucking years and you had never seen this side. Not even who, but what… what did you trust… how…
‘Shut the fuck up!’ You had never heard Hobi speak like that. He lifted Kwang by his arms with the help of Jungkook and shoved him out of the restroom away from you and Namjoon.
Namjoon whirled on you, and the raw fury in his eyes, made you flinch out of Jin’s hold and back up against the wall. Your husband didn’t back down even then as he approached you. He would never hurt you, but it was till fucking terrifying. ‘What. The fuck. Did he do?’ He grit out.
You bit your lip and avoided eye contact.
‘Y/n.’ Namjoon prompted you again, his nostrils flared but his voice was calmer than you’d like to admit.
‘Joon maybe –,’
Ria was silenced with a look.
You shook your head. You didn’t want to make Namjoon mad, you didn’t want him to look at you with pity, or worse, like you were… damaged. A heaviness settled in your chest when Namjoon stands in front of you, lifts your chin up with two fingers, and something tears into you to see him so upset. His muscles bunched up, his stormy gaze, your husband was in a state and it was all your fault.
Holding onto your forearm, Namjoon crowded you. ‘Baby,’ He dropped his forehead against yours.
Tears welled up and your teeth clamped shut. But as he stared you down, as he coaxed you, and reminded you he was there, that he would handle this, that he would take care of it no matter what it was. For once, or in fact, just like every time, when it came to Kim Namjoon, you gave in.
Your voice shakes, and you purse your lips, as your chest burns. ‘He tried to - to, m-me,’ you lift your hands in an effort to speak clearly, ‘he, tou-, tried to, m-, me.’ Your tremulous tone was a testament to exactly how unsteady you were.
Apparently that was all he needed to hear. Namjoon’s jaw grew impossibly defined, sharper, harder, until his rapid breathing and flared nostrils were too much for even his body to contain. With a snarl, an ugly sound torn from his chest, he turned to walk in the direction of Hobi and Kwang.
‘N-No, don’t go!’ You cried out after him. ‘Namjoon, no!’ You grabbed the end of your dress with your good hand, and ran after him. In this mood, in this rage, even if it was because of you, Namjoon couldn’t do anything to him. He had a reputation to protect.
‘I should kill you for ever touching her!’ Namjoon stormed over to where Hoseok held Kwang by his lapels in the middle of the hall, just passed the music set up and took over, much to the surprise of the onlookers. Surprise because Hoseok initiated it or because Namjoon was enabling such behavior, you didn’t know, you also didn’t care.
‘Do it. Fuck him up!’ Hoseok egged him on. ‘I’ll just say it was self-defense.’
‘I second that.’ Yoongi added.
Yeon and Xan had already decided to back up your family, showing where their loyalty was as they flanked Yoongi.
Kwang’s gaze danced from Hoseok, to Yoongi and back to you. He smiled a bloody smile. ‘One cock isn’t enough for you, y/n? You had to try all?’
You inhaled sharply at the rude insinuation. It wasn’t so much that it was said to you. Being called a whore? Fuck that. But… you looked at the faces of your family, you would never want to hurt them.
Kwang sniggered, seemingly out of sorts, nothing about saving face or keeping up facades. ‘You little bi –,’
Another fist was slammed into Kwang’s jaw, causing him to veer out of Namjoon’s grasp and back a few steps. You covered your mouth with your hands, wondering if everyone had lost their fucking minds.
Before he could gain his balance, Namjoon cut off his air supply, by pushing him against the wall, an arm pushing firmly against his throat as your father got nose to nose with Kwang. ‘Don’t you dare, talk about my daughter that way.’
Nothing could have prepared you, absolutely nothing, to see your father defend you, not verbally, not physically and especially against someone he never had before.
‘Of course, y/n wants all of us,’ Taehyung took the new turn of events in stride, swirled the drink in his hand, ‘she’s building a harem.’
You had a feeling Taehyung only had the drink in his hand because he needed something to do with his hands… or he’d be as wild-card as Hobi was – the sun devoid from the male in question as he paced behind Namjoon.
‘So, yours wouldn’t meet any expectation,’ Jin pointed out casually while playing along.
You made a face. This wasn’t the time to joke.
Kwang struggled against your husband’s hold. ‘Sung – ,’
‘Shut up!’ Sung growled and spat at his feet. 'You turned me against my own daughter, all these years, all this time.’
Kwang’s next words tore your breath from your lungs, the confirmation ripping through an old wound that refused to heal. ‘You knew she was telling the truth,’ Kwang’s teeth were bloody, his nose at an odd angle, but he berated your father nonetheless, ‘You knew! But your company and our partnership… your reputation was too important.’
Your father turned back to look at you, and you saw the truth, the remorse in his eyes. But it was too late. Back then… all you needed was for him to believe you. If he had shown that, you would have saved his reputation, you would have done whatever he asked, you would never be anyone’s problem. That he didn’t, that he chose what was important to him, when you were the one that was supposed to be the priority… it was too late. You let him see your anger, your hurt, your betrayal… and satisfaction washed over you when shame etched its way on his features.
‘We could break you,’ Namjoon threatened, not bothering to stoke old flames, ‘right here, right now for even daring to lay a single finger on my wife.’
‘I’d kill you for even thinking about touching her at all.’ Hoseok glared, his eyes colder than you’d ever seen them. ‘You sick fuck!’ His body trembled in a fury, his breaths becoming sharper as he worked himself up. Yoongi placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing hard.
‘Your friend over here seems angrier than you,’ Kwang aimed the statement at Namjoon, ‘internal politics perhaps.’
‘Fuck you!’ Hoseok spat.
‘Ah,’ Kwang nodded with what little motion he had, ‘A husband who’s the leader, a ‘close’ friend that’s almost snarling in possessive ferity, and a band willing to tank everything for one woman… and I’m the one being blamed?’ His tone held incredulity.
It took you a second, the fog in your brain was too much to handle, but you got it at almost the same time everyone else did. He was insinuating that you were a whore. Again.
Hoseok lunged, and Yoongi held him back before he could do anything. But the most surprising defense came from someone else.
’No one,’ A cold hiss like an ice pick dancing across your spine, ‘is allowed to talk about my Noona that way.’ Jungkook’s voice was edgy, grated, a harshness that you would have never expected from him, and the heavy silence that descended after left you reeling from the amount of respect it held.
Tears pricked your eyes.
Kwang hummed. You knew what he was thinking, Jungkook was the youngest, and would be the most vulnerable to manipulation. ‘Y/n, still using your charm as usual,’ Kwang hissed at you, ‘come on, princess, don’t let me take all the blame.’
‘Don’t look at her,’ Jin made a face and embraced you so you were blocked from view.
You stared at Kwang like he was a stranger. This wasn’t the man that grew you up to be strong and smart and encouraged you to live life, this was not your mentor, or your friend… you had to look away. It hurt – it cut deeply, into a wound you had fooled yourself into thinking was scabbed over.
‘Fuck this! Call the police, or get rid of him.’ Taehyung said, as he came up to you, his eyes giving you a once over, stopping at the whiskey stain.
You looked at him, wanting to tell him how sorry you were, but when he met your gaze you saw sadness – a sadness for you… You couldn’t work with sad. Anger was better. But you hated when your family was sad.
‘Yeon and Xan will hide the body…’ Jimin motioned toward them.
‘And everyone here,’ Hoseok spread his arms wide, indicating to the few people around the room, ’will be none the wiser.’
‘I’m right here,’ Kwang grit out, clearly offended that they were talking across him.
‘Who gives a fuck?’ Jimin countered.
Kwang spat blood on the floor, speaking through your father’s strong hold. ‘She’s not worth it.’
A moment suspended in time. You held your breath, waiting for the other shoe to fall. But even if it did, it would bear so little impact compared to Yoongi’s next words.
‘Then why does it hurt,’ the stoic male muttered, his face sporting a devilishly satisfied smirk from behind Hobi, a heavy hand still holding onto the usually more optimistic member of the band, ‘that she never, ever once, would even consider … choosing you.’
You winced at the brutal statement, remembering all too well that Yoongi was quiet not only because he had a strong foundation and a good head on his shoulders, but that the yang of that yin combination was an indication of his capability of cruelty.
Kwang’s face turned ugly from the remnants of a badly bruised ego.
Namjoon held a hostile stance, next to your father, all but encouraging any of his actions. A piece of your heart turned over at the idea of them finally being on the same page, but the empty pit of your stomach was too uncomfortable for you to ignore.
The people around you, Yeon and Xan, Ria, your mom… no one stepped in, no one interfered.
Your maknaes, Taehyung, Jimin, even Jungkook, were content to let this carry on, their eyes blazing with a fury on your behalf – a love so true it could bring you to your knees.
You looked up at Jin, suddenly all too aware of his arms, steel bands holding you in place, ready to stand in front of you or hold you to him, but protect you with everything in his power. Your chest felt like lead, at the realization that Kwang could actually die here, no one would stop it, no one would even try.
But your husband was not a killer. Neither was your father, not directly. And your family should not be in the category of aiding and abetting murder.
Even in your own head, it all seemed a tad bit dramatic, but you could feel the tension in the air.
‘Let him go.’ You said in a raspy tone. Everyone turned to you. You could imagine how you looked, terrified, with your hair out of place, make-up stained, but you didn’t back down. ‘Yuna,’ you gulped, ‘can’t know about this.’ You took in a shaky breath. ‘And in order for her not to know… you have to let him go.’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Hoseok snarled at you. ‘This bastard belongs in jail, or worse.’
You saved the pain from Hobi’s lashing for later as you met Namjoon’s eyes. They were dark, shimmering with fury and the knowledge of what that day had cost you and how much harder it would be after this… but you didn’t back down this time. ‘You got to me in time.’ You implored him with everything in you, showed every vulnerable aspect of you for him to understand that you would have fought this, you would have slayed this demon, if only Yuna’s heart wasn’t on the line. ‘Please.’ It was a plea, to let it be and let it go.
The people around you… you would deal. The questions, the pitiful looks and the shamelessness of it all, but you would handle it from your end – you would rather your life turn upside down, as long as Yuna’s stayed intact. As long as the band could go back to the way they used to be.
‘Who’s to say he won’t tell her himself? Play the victim?’ Ria countered your argument, a disappointment laced in her tone that made your heart even more heavy. ‘Maybe it’s time she knew, y/n.’
‘This is ridiculous, y/n!’ Hoseok shouted at you. ‘Look at the amount of people around you. Look at the witnesses. You can’t live with the fear that she would choose him over you!’
‘Shut up, Hobi!’ You knew he was right, but you hated hearing the truth, you were not strong enough for it at this moment. But as usual, after years of knowing you, vulgarity was not a fresh concept between you.
He wasn’t offended, however, his next words indicated he was clearly incensed. ‘Yuna is not your father!’
‘Hobi,’ Yoongi cautioned as he regarded you.
Hoseok made a frustrated sound and turned away.
‘Hobi’s right…’ Everyone whirled around to find Yuna at the entrance, her arms folded across her chest. ‘I am not your father.’
Your legs buckled, and a pained noise burst through your chest. You would have fallen flat if Jin didn’t hold you against him.
Something… snapped… inside you. It took years, years of silence, years of biting your tongue, years of triggers that you used iron will to keep at bay, to keep hidden from her. Pushing her away, forcing distance, having one of the biggest fights of your life… and it all just came tumbling down in front of you, like a gust of wind on your tower of cards.
Yuna spared you a glance – a multitude of emotions passing between you in the moment. Anger. Fear. Hurt.
‘Yuna,’ Kwang smiles in momentary relief, ‘You wouldn’t believe what they’re accusing me of.’
She tilted her head to the side. ‘What’s that?’
‘They think I tried to hurt, y/n. That I tried to abuse her. Can you believe that– Let go of me Namjoon!’ If you didn’t know any better, you figure your husband must have been pressing on Kwang’s neck with every word he dared to utter.
Yuna says nothing when Namjoon let’s Kwang fall.
Kwang wipes the blood as he stands up and approaches her, limping, making a show of being pitiful. ‘This is clearly y/n. She’s still angry about the Legacy, won’t even talk to me,’ he scoffs. Yuna doesn’t even react to him and it only makes Kwang squirm out an explanation.
‘And when I approached her this is how she reacted. Sicced her family on me. It’s quite dramatic if you ask me…’ He shakes his head, glances at you, then looks back at his niece as you wait with baited breath. Only the sound of Kenta’s footsteps could be heard.
Kwang sighed and smiled. ‘You’re not buying any of this are you?’
You stared at him bewildered. Such a bold admission was in tune with his character, but it still caught you off guard.
‘She deserves a bit more credit than that.’
Kenta’s voice made you shudder slightly. He did nothing to mask the underlying threat in it. And if you thought the band was capable of violence in this situation, Kenta, on the other hand, was a different story. His profession thrived on violence, someone who had actually had blood stain his hands, regardless of the reason – he had a penchant for it, not just the potential. He wouldn’t just have to order Xan or Yeon to do the dirty work… he would handle it himself.
Yuna’s nostrils flared and her lip trembled. ‘How could you?’ Her voice was deceptively soft.
‘He’s always been this way, Yu. Even before he fixated on y/n.’
What?
You stared at Kenta, the bomb he’d just dropped leaving debris around you. Kwang had done this before?
Yuna looked up at her husband. ‘You knew.’ It wasn’t a question. She then dropped her head and muttered, ‘Of course you did.’ A reminder that her husband was no ordinary man.
Kwang’s eyebrows drew. He was visibly thrown off at Yuna’s reaction, but he also didn’t back down. ‘He’s lying! He’s lying to save her! Come on, sweetheart. How much time have y/n and I spent together? So many hours, so many memories… You’ve been witness to our interactions.’ His voice dropped an octave, coaxing, manipulating. ‘Am I really that insane? She’s always had a thing for me. You can’t deny it.’ He turned to look at you. ‘And she’s always been mine.’
A vile feeling overcame you and had you shuddering in Jin’s hold.
Namjoon’s response was immediate – and violent. He growled as he rushed at Kwang and punched him again, blood sputtering from his mouth and onto your father’s shirt as he fell to the floor. Sung didn’t even flinch. Namjoon grabbed Kwang’s collar, lifting half his body up as he did so, a show of strength that made him seem even less of the calm, collected Namjoon you were accustomed to. ‘Say it again,’ his quiet tone raises the hairs on your nape. ‘Call my wife yours again, I dare you.’
Kwang glared at your husband, but didn’t repeat his words. He didn’t call you his again. Instead he refocused on your father as Kenta pulled Namjoon off him.
‘What’s the matter, Sung? Can’t handle the fact that I was a better father figure?’
‘Father figure?’ Sung scoffed. ‘I hurt her. But not the way you have. I never witnessed a side of y/n that trusted me to keep her safe, she withheld her love. For good reason, of course. But you?’ Sung clicked his tongue. ‘You had a gift in the palm of your hand, and you savaged it – beyond repair.’
‘I did nothing I was not entitled to.’ Kwang decreed, his chin raised a fraction as he made to stand up, swaying on his feet but feeling and showing no remorse, none at all.
Yuna narrowed her gaze. ‘Who are you?’ She asked so quietly, it resonated with an old wounded part of your heart. Because for how long, had you been asking yourself that question?
‘What do you want from me, Yuna? I did my fair share. In fact, I did my best for you and Helen. That doesn’t change. My love for you and your sister will never chan –,’
Yuna held her hand up. ‘It changes everything.’ She went to take a step forward, the betrayal radiating off her in waves, but Kenta moved to stand between them, effectively keeping her in place. ‘You used me.’ The sentence was torn out of her. Oh my Yuna. ‘Used me to get to her.’ She pointed to you.
‘And you played your part so well, like it was some sort of sick game.’ Her face twisted in disdain. ‘So many sleepovers. Family dinners. Work meetings.’ She croaked, as her mind processed every single bit of information to slot next to the truth of her Uncle. ‘Y/n was never safe.’ She accused. ‘Ohmygod, you could have done anything at anytime.’
‘Exactly. And I didn’t. Y/n needed to realize her feelings first.’ He caught the last sentence and latched onto it as if it was of any use to save him. ‘Why are you not factoring y/n into this? Is it really so hard to accept that she came onto me? That she wants me. The signs were there!’
Your face twisted in revulsion because what fucking signs?
Deadly silence coated the air, as if every individual present rejected Kwang’s question all at once.
‘You’re an asshole.’ Ria scoffed and broke the tension. ‘A typical, male, asshole.’
Understatement of the century.
Everyone turned to look at her, but she didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. ‘I was there. The day y/n ran out of the conference room. The minute she walked out of her father’s office, tears streaming down her face…I was there. There was no way, she was in the wrong that day, and I have no doubt you did your best to finish the job today.’ Ria folded her arms, daggers as she stared Kwang down. ‘Either way, y/n would never come onto you. She would never want you.’
‘Loyalty is a respectable trait, Ria. Lying isn’t.’
‘Go fuck yourself,’ she murmured without emotion, dismissing Kwang like he was little less than a fly in the vicinity.
‘He can’t. He’s too busy trying to fuck with everyone else.’ Hoseok’s fury had become leashed… somewhat.
‘What do you mean ‘that day’, Ria?’ Yuna asked, confused. 'Which day? What are you talking about?’ Oh no.
You mentally willed for Kenta to meet your eye, somehow protect Yuna from this at least, but when he did, you realized it would be futile. You would no longer be able to protect her. ‘The reason y/n pushed you away, the reason she broke off all contact with Kwang and her father.’
‘He attempted this before.’ Kenta confirmed. 'On the Pandora project. She defended herself and got out in time. But the matter never escalated.’ Kenta leveled a glare in your father’s direction. ‘The partners never found it necessary to do so.’
Yuna shot you an incredulous look. ‘This was why you were so distant?’
You looked down. You couldn’t defend yourself.
‘I’m not even surprised with you, Sung.’ Yuna did nothing to hide the malice in her tone. ‘But you, y/n? Keeping this quiet? For all these years? You’re ready to fight the world for someone you love, but didn’t do it for yourself?’ Yuna was shouting now. ‘You retreated into yourself and you were so quiet and so… ‘ Yuna balled up her hands in fists and shook them, ‘so wound up and suffocated.’
‘After you took over…’ Her eyes darted from side to side as she made more connections. ‘No. It was before that.’ She looked up at you. ‘There were changes before that. You didn’t come over anymore. And you always made excuses not to hang out when he was around. You died, y/n.’ Severe words that made too much sense. ‘You died until you took over the company, but even then you were the fucking living dead.’ Her voice broke. ‘You left me.’ Your throat closed up. ‘You pushed me away,’ she cried, ‘because he’d hurt you and you didn’t want to hurt me.’
You shook your head, your throat closing up and your eyes becoming blurry at the devastation you heard in her voice. Don’t cry, you didn’t want her to cry.
‘All these years, y/n. So much pain, so much that you handled alone…’ Yuna stifled a sob as she covered her mouth, ‘And I didn’t know a fucking thing!’ She turned away from you and fell into Kenta’s open arms as she broke down. His hand covered the back of her head easily, shielding her, keeping her close, keeping her safe.
You didn’t know how to fix this. On one hand you wouldn’t change your decision. You didn’t regret not telling her. But now that she knew… you’d never thought this far. No one was supposed to know. No one was supposed to find out. It was your pain and your trauma and your nightmares – any of those shadows eclipsing any of your loved ones lives was never the plan.
‘You could have told me.’ She said wetly, her voice muffled by Kenta’s coat.
‘It wasn’t your burden to bear.’ I didn’t want to lose you.
‘The hell it wasn’t!’ She broke out of Kenta’s hold and yelled at you. ‘What do you take me for, y/n!’
Frustration surfaced. You would not explain your actions to anyone. No one. No one knew how you felt, no one could feel your pain. ‘No one believed me, Yuna.’
‘I would have believed you!’
‘My own father didn’t even believe me!’
‘I am not your fucking father!’
Sung winced at her tone.
‘You would have believed her over me.’ Kwang questioned his niece.
‘It would have been a punch to the gut,’ Yuna replied, not looking at him, her tone aiming to rub anyone with a semblance of self-respect, the wrong way. ‘But it wouldn’t have cut deeper than knowing I forced y/n through my wedding with her abuser over her shoulder.’
Kwang mouthed the word ‘abuser’ as if he didn’t know what the term meant, as if he wasn’t one. ‘How can you talk to me this way?’
‘Did you not,‘ Yuna raised her voice with every word, her patience worn thin, ‘try to take advantage of my best friend Uncle?’ She spat the familial term as if it was a slur.
Kwang pursed his lips.
Yuna nodded her head in resignation. ‘Exactly.’ She threaded her fingers through Kenta’s. ‘Do what’s necessary.’ There was no room for misunderstanding. Kenta would deal with Kwang Jae.
You swallowed hard. ‘No.’
‘Ignore her.’ Yuna dismissed you. ‘I’m done with this. It’s over. He needs to go.’
‘I said no!’
She screamed back at you. ‘Why! What are you so afraid of?’
The satisfaction of having everything out in the open devolved fast into anxiety. ‘Can’t you see that you have careers in the public eye, reputations to protect! We can’t have this getting out. I don’t want it to get out.’
‘You aren’t alone, y/n.’ Kenta reminded you. ‘And you aren’t in the wrong.’
‘But I would have to deal with it.’
‘Y/n, honey, please –,’ Hobi tried for reason.
You cut him off. ‘Let him go.’
You would not let anyone have a field day with this bullshit. Not now, not ever. Justice meant nothing. You already knew, even if you envisioned Kwang behind bars, it wouldn’t be satisfying… neither would seeing him dead do any good.
That’s what happened when you accepted things as they were. And you have always been able to afford balance on the outside, for the external, for the people around you and for life to go on… all at the expense of your sanity. Because inside you, it was pure carnage. It was all you knew. But you could handle your pain. It was your pain. Your pain would not be anyone else’s burden, or entertainment.
Jin looked down at you, his heavy gaze unfolding your ruse into reality. ‘Why are you being like this?’ He asked softly.
You averted your gaze. It was an easy answer. ‘He’s not worth it.’
Jin’s eyes shined with age-old knowledge and unbridled empathy. ‘He’s not worth it, y/n… or you?’
You bit back a retort at the stark honesty in his words. They stung. And some vindictive part of you felt that they were making a mockery of your pain, pushing you to do what was right, showcasing your trauma like it would be a tale of strength. But Jin was right, you didn’t feel the fight for you would be worth it. You would not make it anyone else’s problem. There was no room for y/n to be ruining anyone’s life – unintentionally or not.
‘Y/n, you need to do this for yourself babe.’
You shook your head against Ria’s words. Not this time. You were not the heroine, or the damsel that was saved, or the one everyone would look up to because you were ‘so brave’. You would do what felt right for you, regardless of how it looked to anyone else.
‘Y/n don’t give him an out.’ Namjoon spoke so softly, it stripped your heart open. ‘Do you understand, that letting him go,’ Namjoon pointed to Kwang, ‘that letting him walk, after what he’s done, and attempted to do, not once, but twice, that he would be getting exactly what wants.’ Namjoon glared at you. ‘He had the balls to do it, because he knew you would make the call to let him go.’ A shadow passed over his features, ‘If you do this, you would be taking away my right to protect you.’
Yoongi inclined his head. ‘Are you willing to accept the risk of ever seeing him again? He could easily go to the papers, y/n.’
He wouldn’t fuck up his own life. But you didn’t answer Yoongi. Right now, you had no strength and you didn’t care. You wanted this night over with. You wanted to go home.
‘Don’t do this, y/n,’ Hoseok’s voice held a glacial unevenness. A clear sign of how enraged he was, but how much of a tight leash he had on it.
So angry, but still listening to you, still taking your word into account.
‘If you want to put him behind bars… I’ll support you this time,’ your father looked over his shoulder at you.
‘We owe you much more,’ Ra-Mi ran gentle fingers through your hair.
You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t stand it. And it would be logical to find the so-called justice they sought for you, and years earlier it would have made all the difference. But you were married now and it mattered because of who you were married to. You would not put Yuna or the band through any of it. It was too late.
‘Y/n –,’ Yoongi whispered, when he came to stand next to you.
You turned into Jin’s chest and hid between his arms. Having no strength to deal with Yoongi’s disappointment. ‘Please, just, let him go. Let him leave.’
‘Hyung, do something.’ Jungkook barked.
No one reprimanded the youngest. No one believed he said anything wrong in the first place. Neither did you. The silence was thick and heavy, until Namjoon spoke.
‘My wife has been through enough tonight.’ His tone was clipped. ‘We should do as she says.’
His words were met with immediate protest.
‘Hyung, you can’t!’ Jimin shouted from beside Jungkook.
‘Namjoon-ah!’ Jin and Yoongi scolded, the eldest clutching you tighter, as if letting Kwang go would somehow endanger you further.
As you turned in Jin’s arms, you focused on your husband, you saw his lip curl back in a silent snarl at his brothers’ contradictions. You couldn’t imagine what Namjoon was going through. A man had his hands on you, to hurt you, to claim, to control… Now his brother’s were disappointed in him. Again.
You met his gaze again, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, a final attempt to change your mind.
You whimpered softly and his jaw set… it was answer enough for him, before he shoved Kwang back into the wall.
‘I don’t give a fuck,’ you shut your eyes against Namjoon’s voice, ‘where you go or what you do, but know this, if you ever come near Y/n again, I will make sure you regret it.’ A sound of impact. ‘Do you understand?’
You heard Kwang’s feet flatten against the floor when Namjoon finally let him down.
‘I owe you a lifetime of resentment.’ You heard your father say.
You turned your head in Jin’s arms, wanting to take in the scene before you, wanting to watch him leave.
The disappointment bled from Namjoon, but you didn’t budge, trauma response or not, Kwang needed to fuckoff – you wanted nothing to do with him.
‘We’ll walk you,’ Kwang grimaced at Jimin, most likely observing their age gap and feeling highly disrespected. ‘Make sure you actually leave this time.’
Kwang looked over at you.
‘Move!’ Jimin berated him. The hyung of the maknae line was in no mood to play.
‘That’s a tad disrespectful, don’t you think so, Jimin?’ You rolled your eyes inwardly. You knew him so well. ‘What would your parents think?’
Your eye twitched. The bastard had no right to talk about Jimin’s parents. No one defended the male that cared the most and loved without abandon, but you soon realized that there wasn’t a need.
Jimin walked up to Kwang, despite the height difference, Jimin still managed to look like the more intimidating one. ‘You are more than welcome, to explain your actions, how I am treating you and await their verdict on the matter, but I assure you,’ Jimin’s lips lifted, a chilling glare that had you fisting on Jin’s jacket, ‘They wouldn’t waste even their sympathy on scum like you.’ Jimin’s eyes flashed fire. ‘Now start walking!’ the hyung of the maknae line turned away and muttered, ‘Get you as far away from my family as possible.’
They were almost to the entrance when Yuna spoke. ‘Uncle.’ Four pairs of dress shoes stopped in their tracks.
‘That you are walking out of here on your own, is a statement of how big y/n’s heart is.’ Her voice didn’t waver, not even a little. ‘It’s a clear sign that there could have only been one person to blame for all of this.’
You felt the words caress against the pieces of your broken heart, so delicate. At the same time you felt Yuna’s pain, the brutal decision you knew she’d just made, rebounding off her life in so many ways, she was yet to see the consequences.
‘Understand that if you do anything more, y/n will not be dealing with you, the people surrounding her will. And if it wasn’t clear enough already,’ she spoke to the ground. A sign that it was too painful, and that she had no choice. ‘We are no longer family.’ She swallowed hard. ‘We have nothing more to do with each other.’
You wanted to gauge Kwang’s reaction but you were stuck on Yuna. No other human being would ever give up as much as she had for you, without a second thought, without a shred of regret.
Taehyung sighed. ‘I need more alcohol.’
‘The champagne has a cork in it.’ Jungkook offered, as they flanked Jimin.
‘Oh good,’ Jungkook earned a clap on the back from the hyung that was every bit his best friend and more, ‘it shoots and makes an impact if we aim it in the right direc –,’
Their words died as they left the hall. The joke was dry, unnecessary, but they were reeling from a tragic truth and they would cope the only way they knew how.
You blew out a puff of air against Jin’s suit jacket and he rubbed your back comfortingly.
Something needed to be said, something to fill the silence. The bartenders still hadn’t left, neither did the hall manager and her two staff… you wanted to groan out loud, this was just another media scandal waiting to happen anyway.
Your eyes darted over their forms, as the momentary realization sent you into a panic. Your renewed shaking must have alarmed Jin, because all of a sudden you were out of his arms and he got in your face. ‘Breathe. Breathe for me, it’s okay sweetheart.’
‘Th-they,’ you motioned your head towards the bar, your voice wobbly as you tried to explain.
Yoongi’s eyebrows were scrunched in confusion, but he soon caught on when he looked at the staff. He stepped into your personal space and bent his head to make eye contact with you. ‘We’ll handle it.’
‘Wh-,’ Jin started, but Yoongi explained the situation in a hushed whisper before making his way over to the bar.
Ria was already way ahead of them as she made her way to the hall manager.
Yeon and Xan regarded you silently. You didn’t have it in you to look them in the eye. Not yet.
‘Y/n,’ Sung came up to you.
You shook your head vehemently. ‘No.’ As grateful as you were, you couldn’t deal with him right now. ‘No, please, I can’t.’ You couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t process it. ‘Whatever it is.’
It was too much. It was all too much.
‘Please listen to me,’ your father begged as he caught your elbow.
You shoved him away, taking Jin with you when you reared back. ‘I was so scared!’ You shouted, your voice rebounding off the walls as you ripped yourself open letting Sung Y/l/n hear the honest truth. ‘I was alone and I was scared!’ You repeated yourself, admitting to weakness when you never had. ‘And I needed you and you were never there! You weren’t there for me!’
Your father shrunk into himself at your outburst. Your mother cried harder next to him and you wanted to comfort her but with what? With what strength, with what stability? You had nothing, you were shattered from the inside out.
‘Just once, just once,’ you held your two fingers together in front of his face, ‘if you gave me a sign, that you believed me…’
‘I moved you from his department.’ Sung attempted to justify himself. ‘I changed your roles. I let you work independently, surpassing everyone’s expectations.’
You narrowed your gaze. ‘Am I supposed to fucking thank you?’ An acrid taste from your brutal words set in the back of your throat.
‘Please, y/n, I didn’t kn – , I –, I was trying to do what was bes –,’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Your forehead creased in an effort to keep frustrated tears at bay. ‘Don’t you dare, say you did anything for me. A punch and suddenly siding with me will not change what you’ve done!’ Your face screwed up and a feeble sound made its way out of your throat. ‘Your own daughter!’ You cried openly.
‘I know! But he had major shares! He would have ripped everything away from us!’
‘He already did.’ Your mother’s words were filled with malice. And in another time you would have been able to appreciate them. But not as you stared at your father, a man who had put his company and his money and his reputation above your life, and after all of it was still making excuses – Sung Y/l/n, who had never and would never be your Dad.
‘All of this is because of you. All of it!’ You inhaled sharply, suddenly realizing that words would never get through his defenses. He would never see how much his decisions had cost him. Pure venom coated your next words. ‘It’s too fucking late.’
It was nothing. Words a petulant child could have easily said. But you had nothing else left in you. You were done. Just done. Pulling away from Jin, you ran out of the hall as sobs bubbled out of your throat. You heard shouts behind you, but you were beyond caring. You didn’t care where you were going or how, or of who followed you, but you walked across the parking lot toward the open field opposite the hall. The snow was thick and your boots sunk right in, but you ran and then you walked until your breathing was labored and the cold poked at your skin… and your legs finally gave out from under you.
Your legs, exposed from the high slit, were frozen solid. Your dress was wet, so was your hair, but you couldn’t care less about appearances.
The wedding was the only big thing on your checklist for the day, and that went as well as it could have. Ria and the guys would sort out specifics. Kwang… a sob threatened to rip from your throat as you felt phantom fingers between your legs. Kwang was gone. Yuna… you would talk to her. Maybe, just maybe things would go back to normal.
‘Aah!’ You pulled away when a warm hand touched your shoulder. You looked up to find your husband looming over you. You reared back, away from him, away from his touch.
‘Y/n,’ Namjoon leaned toward you.
You avoided him by scooching further away. ‘Don’t touch me.’
Hurt clouded his features. ‘Baby –,’
‘No,’ you shook your head at him.
‘Y/n.’
You turn around to find Kenta behind you. When did he get to you? Were you so out of sorts?
Kenta bent down and rested in the snow. You winced visibly when he curled a protective arm around your shoulders. If he noticed, he didn’t show it as his other hand grabbed the wet trail of your dress, covered the exposed portion of your legs and rested his palm on your knee.
Taking deep breaths as you reminded yourself that he was checking for any injuries, a usual once over that was second nature, Kenta was safe and his touch was safe, it was a mantra until you eventually covered his hand with yours.
‘I’m fine,’ you reassured him. ‘I’m okay.’
Kenta pressed a kiss to your forehead, his movements tentative. ‘No, sweetheart.’ A term of endearment… ‘You’re not.’
You choked as his words slammed into you. Your eyes shut tight, to push away tears that were furious and unrelenting.
‘I’m sorry, Kenta. I’m so sorry!’ Kenta rocked you lightly as you lost control, your sobs becoming uncontrollable.
Why you? Why? You would never wish such things on anyone else, but why? You were not so strong. You had so much to be grateful for and you knew you were loved and there was so much to look forward to but… sometimes the pain was too much. Freshly wounded, bleeding and broken… when you were just now finding yourself, finding your husband…
You had little less of your youth left, no children, no responsibility that could not be handed over or handled… the burn under your skin and the agony that had no name turned you inside out. Was there really a need to recover from this? If you could just keep your eyes closed… if you could scream until your voice was silent… if you stopped breathing… if you just gave up…
A heat seeped through your boot by the ankle. You opened your eyes to find Namjoon crouching in front of you, trying to anchor you. You pulled your knees in toward your body and crushed your side into Kenta’s chest. ‘You can’t.’ You managed to gasp out.
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed.
‘You can’t touch me. He touched me.’
Without warning Namjoon surged forward, grabbed you by your arms and hauled you into his chest.
‘Joon –,’ You heard Kenta warn tightly. But you were beyond logic.
‘You don’t know,’ you cry out and push against Namjoon’s chest. You wince in pain when you remember your injured palm.
Nevertheless, you struggle until he slammed his mouth against yours. His kiss was hard, hurtful, but all consuming, you could taste the anger on his tongue. ‘Don’t piss me off, y/n,’ he growled against your lips when you pulled away. Breathing hard, he touched his forehead to yours and held you close to him. His palm casing your cheek. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.’
‘You don’t understand!’ Your chest splintered, your eyes burned with tears that wet your face and your hair and your insides screamed in helplessness – you always had doubts, insecurities about being good enough for Namjoon… now you knew, you never would be.
‘No, you don’t understand!’ He roared. ‘You said you were mine, just a few hours ago! You declared it, y/n. No matter what happens, or what we have to go through, we do it together! So don’t you dare push me away now.’ His voice dropped, and the pain you felt emanating from him threatened even the softest corners of your heart. ‘Don’t you dare. Not because of him. Not for anything.’
The ringing in your skull and the storm in your chest didn’t let up. ‘He touched me! He held his hand over my mouth and he tried to touch me,’ you vehemently confessed in a panic. ‘Tell me you can kiss me, Namjoon, touch me, have sex with me and not see what you walked into, not see him!’
Namjoon’s eyes were wild with emotion, his need to hold you to him, to anchor you, a palpable thing.
‘Because all I see is you! You, y/n. My wife, my love, my everything. The pain, the hurt, I want to take every bit of pain he’s caused and I want to make it better! I want to make it better! I will make it better! You were never his, y/n! You are and will always be mine! Nothing and no one can fucking threaten that.
Now, it’s fucking freezing cold, so we need to head back and we need to head home.’ He softened his hold. ‘Please, let’s go home.’
He didn’t understand. Fuck, he didn’t know, that the worst of it wasn’t the physical assault, it was the mental manipulation and every single shaky foundation in your head just fell out from under you. You didn’t know how to deal with that. ‘Namjoon, please,’ you gave up the fight and sobbed into his jacket.
His hands held you to him. ‘I’ll do anything you want, okay? I promise. But I need to get you home, away from here and away from everyone else. Please, just let me take you home.’
You dropped your forehead against his chest and sunk into his hold. You hated this. You hated the guilt of how at home you felt in the safe heat of his arms. His strength, his joy and his love… Because here you were…less, parts of you severed, and your whole psyche fractured on a level you knew, you knew you would never come back from.
Love. You loved him too much. You loved this man more than you thought you were ever capable of and you had chosen him over everything. Despite it all, you believed that he deserved someone whole, someone who could give him all of them, someone untainted. In your head you whimpered, because you didn’t have it in you to give him up.
The only question was whether he could bear this burden with you.
No. There was no question. Either way, you knew the answer. Like you knew Namjoon.
But would it grow to be a painful silence between you? A sore subject. A flaw you couldn’t help, a shortcoming you couldn’t change. With every jagged beat of your heart would you have to question the possibility, the fear… that he would one day choose to put that burden down.
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Part 30 - Finale [R]
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