Nerve_30 [V] || KNJ
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Nerve [Namjoon x Reader]
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Part 30 - Finale [V]
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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 Sexual Assault(Aftermath); 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; Angry/ Protective Namjoon;
Additional Warnings - Graphic Depiction of Sexual Assault; Rage; Hopelessness; Guilt; Self-loathing; Self-hate;
Word Count - 4.7k
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A/N - After every trauma, there’s always the aftermath and in this au we are somewhat veterans of the ‘after’.
It’s quite concerning how much research it takes to depict something as real as this, even if some of the aspects are pulled from a past experience. It just goes to show how much of an impact something like this could have on someone.
Needless to say, our oc definitely deserves a bunch of happiness… but then… some of the best people, aren’t meant to be happy.
We’re almost to the end of this era of the Nerve Universe. I will be posting [E] and the Epilogue together, tomorrow.
xx Dee
Please note the following chapter contains a complete representation of OC’s current psyche and her mental state. PLEASE!! Proceed with caution as this whole update is a MAJOR trigger warning.
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It didn’t take much else for Namjoon to get you to listen to him. On your best of days, you could be stubborn and on your worst you could be illogical, but neither of those traits could cloud over the fact that Namjoon was solid ground. Namjoon was the Earth and the rain and hope and every sign of life you could truly respond to.
At that moment, nothing made sense, you felt so many emotions, and some part of you was still thinking ‘What the fuck? Did that just happen’.
It did. And tears leaked from your eyes each time you answered the question. Because it did. But really, were you overreacting a little? Maybe you were just exposed for who you truly were–a weak, oversensitive little girl. A fraudster that truly didn’t deserve a voice. Not when you couldn’t defend yourself.
It should just be another trauma to add to the list.
You didn’t return to the hall. You didn’t see Yuna or Ria or anyone else for that matter.
Yeon and Xan said nothing the whole way home. You sat with Namjoon at the back of the car, his fingers playing absently with a loose thread on your gloves. You couldn’t use your winter coat, and you couldn’t hold Namjoon’s hand because it felt… weird. Your skin was oversensitive.
None of the guys followed this time. It was you, your husband and your biggest fear of him losing any love for you.
When you got home, you stepped out with as much of your self-respect you could muster, and bid the two remaining members of your team farewell.
Then Namjoon took over your footsteps – all but dragging you behind him, through your house to your bedroom.
Before you knew it, you were standing in the middle of the master bathroom, holding your midsection as he crossed his arms and stared at you. You hated the physical distance. Ofcourse, you both knew you needed it, to think clearly, to breathe, but it still hurt.
You pulled your lips together, but tears stung your eyes anyway as you tried to close your head against the memories of the night.
‘Where?’
You internally shook off the question and blinked rapidly as you looked at the floor. ‘Can I just shower? Please?’
‘Y/n,’ he softly reprimanded when you didn’t move an inch.
‘Namjoon, please –,’
‘No. You’ll face it here, and now. With me. No more running. No giving it life.’ He made to rush at you, then stopped, his hand frozen in midair, giving himself a second, giving his actions a second thought. ‘You can’t be silent,’ his nostrils flared and he closed his hand into a fist before he dropped it. ‘I refuse to let it suffocate us, while a war happens inside you.’
Your eyes darted back and forth on the tiles. You felt trapped, like a cornered animal.
You knew Namjoon meant no harm; he was doing only what he knew. You calmed down when he smothered you, in hugs, affection, touching, kissing, his hands around your neck, your body under him… You found clarity in communication, in talking your feelings out, in making it real.
And making sure absolutely nothing got between you after the struggle your marriage had just gone through was Namjoon’s priority.
And you understood. You really did. But…
Right now those tactics weren’t working. It wasn’t working because he wanted you to talk about it, and you didn’t want to talk about it just yet. But if you didn’t, it would fester. That’s how it worked with you. Ripping the band aid off worked way better than coaxing and prodding would. Because you were the best at putting your pain in a chokehold, ignoring the fact that your lips were turning blue from the suffocation. But you still didn’t want to talk about it! You didn’t want to explain anything, for fear of Namjoon’s reaction.
How could you tell him? How could you tell him about Kwang, and his words and his actions and what he’d tried to do? How could you even begin to explain how horrifying it was to freeze in a moment where you needed yourself most?
And if you told him the truth, then what?
What if he didn’t believe you? What if he thought you wanted it? Asked for it? What if he actually thought you were disgusting? What if he didn’t want you anymore? What if he thought that you were dirt—
‘Y/n!’ Namjoon’s voice exploded into your face, his hands on your upper arms.
You felt your eyes go wide and your body shook, but you couldn’t yell back. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out, save for a soft whimpering. You couldn’t breathe.
You looked at Namjoon and his lips were moving and words came out of his mouth, but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t breathe. You choked on nothing as you tried to consciously inhale and exhale but you couldn’t breathe!
You were moving. The floor fell away and you felt yourself falling and you couldn’t stop it and you couldn’t control it and you had nothing to hold onto and, and –
Frigid cold chased the heat off your spine out of nowhere and you finally took a sharp breath in.
‘Breathe, Y/n.’ You heard Namjoon’s voice from faraway. ‘Breathe for me.’
You felt his arms, a vice-like grip on your own forearms.
You inhaled and exhaled sharply, the blurry details coming into focus.
You were in the shower and your clothes were drenched, your boots and your pretty dress – the outfit that Taehyung had poured his soul into was ruined. He wouldn’t mind. But you did.
‘Y/n?’ Namjoon asked tentatively, as he kneeled in front of you, his own suit waterlogged. You searched his face. The tremble in his lips, the wetness at the edge of his eye, his wide eyes as his hands moved to close over your palm as he tried not to crowd you… nothing but fear for you etched in his features.
‘I’m okay.’ You nodded to assure him as you took deep shaky breaths. ‘I’m okay.’ You repeated the words, more for yourself.
The thoughts and fears all felt like a freight train ready to run you over, but you closed your eyes and pushed them away, focusing on the feel of Namjoon’s strong hands and the coldness of the water cascading over you.
Namjoon watched you until you returned to a somewhat normal state. Then and only then did he slowly grip your calf and pull it towards him. He watched you as he toyed with the zipper, silently asking permission.
You nodded your ascent.
When your boots and dress were in an unseemly pile on the floor outside the shower, he sat back on his heels.
His voice when he did speak again, broke your heart even more. ‘Tell me what to do.’
‘Don’t–,’ you said sharply. You almost screamed at the statement, because you were not a broken doll, and your marriage was not so weak that he had to ask such things. ‘Don’t, talk to me like that. Please. I’m not some victim that needs to be approached cautiously – especially not when it comes to you.’
‘Well, being forceful, gave you a panic attack.’
You almost smiled. Namjoon the ever-logical.
‘Being gentle makes you swipe, anyway.’ He continued. ‘So, you tell me what to do.’
‘What if I tell you to leave?’
It was an unnecessary challenge, but some petty part of you wanted to hear it out loud.
‘I will never leave you, y/n.’ He tentatively traced the back of his middle finger across your cheek. ’Especially not when you need me the most. I can’t.’ His last words were almost strangled out of him, like being there for you was his only option. The same two words you decreed to him on the dancefloor.
You let his statement sit, the meaning, the intention behind them aggressive in its clarity
He knew what you were doing though. It was similar to putting feelers out, testing a situation before charging forward.
A blinding need overtook you and you braved your way to your question, even if you didn’t deserve it. ‘Can you hold me?‘ You didn’t look at him as you asked. ‘No clothes… no barriers between us.’ You were afraid that he might see through your request, he would realize how terrified you were that it would be the last time he ever held you like that. Because he would want the truth. Namjoon wouldn’t let the issue go – and you would not lie to him.
He wasted no time in stripping down. He helped you up, offering an open palm so you took it with consent, and he hauled you up against him, the side of your head immediately dropping to his shoulder.
It felt… good.
‘Is this, okay?’ He whispered in your wet hair, one hand on your waist, the other flat on your back.
You nodded, reveling the feel of his every solid muscle against the curves of your body. You fit. You and Namjoon, your bodies, they always fit.
He’d turned up the water temperature before picking you up, and the chill slowly made space for the heat, of the steam and of your husband.
There were so many reasons, mistakes aside. So many of them. To respect Namjoon. To choose Namjoon. To love him.
As he held you in his arms and brushed his hands up and down your hair, and left featherlight touches to your skin… he reminded you how much you meant to him, without even saying the words.
You felt it then, how tired you were, how heavily the world had weighed you down. You weren’t anything in that moment. Neither a wife, a CEO, a daughter, a sister, a mentor, a Noona, a friend, you were Y/n. It wasn’t about tears, or about letting go or falling apart… it was about being your most vulnerable, with the one person you trusted in the world to protect you.
Maybe that’s why his cheating cut as deeply as it did. Because he had been given free access to these parts of you, that you battled to even acknowledge within yourself.
But even you could admit, he had more than made up for it.
‘Namjoon,’ you spoke against his shoulder.
‘Hmm?’
‘Can you help wash it off?’ It wouldn’t tear the feel of Kwang’s fingers away, or the touch of his hands, or even erase the memory of his scent, but anything external you could manage, you would try.
At least this wasn’t like the last time. You were alone, then. You didn’t have anyone to defend you or to take care of you.
You remember scrubbing your skin raw, bawling your eyes out, wishing it was all just a nightmare you could wake up from.
Only it wasn’t a nightmare, it was reality, it became history… and it was apparently very capable of repeating itself.
———-
Namjoon didn’t need telling twice. He took the lead with the soap and loofah, gentle hands, and a loving touch. It didn’t do much, but if anything you did feel a lot lighter.
You thought the worst was over.
But when he was toweling you off, and helping you wear one of his shirts, you realized how wrong you were.
He moved away from you, and folded his arms, much like he did before.
A resting stance that had you tilting your head in question.
The hardness was back in his eyes. ‘I’m giving you space.’ He swallowed thickly, ’because we’re not done here.’
Your teeth clenched and you backed up against the wall on your side, placing your palms flat and leaning against them to keep yourself upright.
‘Will you tell me?’
You looked down. ‘Tell you what?’ Your throat felt raw as you croaked the words.
‘Will you tell me where he dared to touch you.’
You chuckled mirthlessly, a defensive response. ‘So eager to get rid of me?’
‘Don’t fuck with me, baby.’ He warned softly.
You flinched when his voice cut across you, your hands coming up to wrap around you, to protect yourself… His tone was too gentle, despite how much anger you knew was coursing through him.
‘I don’t know how.’
'Try.’
You shivered involuntarily. 'I-I can’t – ,’ the nails on your right hand dug into your left shoulder as you tried to stabilize yourself. ‘Please, I don’t –,’
He came to stand in front of you. ‘Look at me.’ You shook your head and kept it down. His fists clenched at his side as he spoke. ‘Did he kiss you?’
‘NO!’ You answered too loudly, almost alarmed, ‘n-no, he didn’t.’
His hand moved to cup your neck. ‘Here?’
‘No.’
His fingers trailed down your dress. You tensed when he ghosted the side of your breast, but he didn’t stop there, he just moved the rest of the way to stop on your waist. ‘What did he do?’
You squirmed, wishing to get out of this somehow. ‘The usual, t-tried to f-fondle my, my uhm…’ you winced and lifted your left hand slightly, still feeling his fingers against your skin. You grit your teeth against the feeling and covered your breast with your hand, squeezing lightly, tracing the line on your skin, above your breastbone, reminding yourself that it was your hands, not his.
‘He tried. Be-between m-my legs…’ You managed to choke out. 'He was going to, t-,’ You closed your eyes and sniffled, wishing you were stronger, wishing this wasn’t so pitiful. ‘He j-just… just didn’t rape me.’ The last two words came out as a whisper.
You shut your eyes tight, then found the courage to look up at your husband.
Namjoon frowned when he noted how aggressively your nails dug into your arm. Instead of prying them off, something small and subtle and absolutely fucking illogical that would turn this whole exchange upside down, he decided to change tactics.
'What if I hold you, again?’
Your head snapped up at the question. ‘Will it make it easier for you to tell me then?'
It was… unexpected.
He’d been touching you this whole time, your fingers, your neck, you’d even kissed albeit in the heat of a moment. He gave you a bath for crying out loud! But still…
Namjoon was your husband – he had a right. He had every right.
Instead of questioning it, feeding into the confusion, or even trying to make sense of what he was trying to do, you asked the one question you were afraid to get an answer to. 'Do you want to?'
Tears clogged your throat and welled in your eyes. Again.
A pained noise escaped Namjoon’s chest before he pulled you into his arms.
You shook against him, his big strong arms wrapped around you, his hold so tight, as if he could put all your broken pieces back together again.
'I’m so sorry, I wasn’t there for you today.’ He sniffled as you shook your head against the apology. 'I’m so sorry, baby.’
You squeezed your eyes shut as you sobbed openly for the nth time that night, clutching at his shirt like it was a lifeline.
Again you wondered… why you?
Why did the very idea of normalcy evade you at every turn?
Childhood trauma was a given. So fuck that. But then again… men forcing themselves on women… that was some sort of normal too.
It was heard of at every turn.
Catcalling, whistling and derogatory terms. If she wore too little she asked for it. If she wore too much she was a prude.
Rape, sexual harassment at the office, trading blowjobs for good grades with the right professors, sexual abuse on the street…
Every woman you knew, every single one would have gone through some sort of sexual encounter with a male or at least, felt unsafe with them.
Here, with you, Kwang Jae and Kim Y/n, it was a cute cat and mouse game, years in the making.
Maybe it wasn’t black and white, and the universe added a bit of glitter to make the trauma sparkle a little with the trauma bond… but you experienced what most women would in their lifetime.
And they survived. They lived. Some spoke out. Some owned their truth. Even if you couldn’t be vocal about it. If anything, you could get past it. You could do that… couldn’t you?
When you quietened down he brushed his lips against your forehead. ‘What’s really going on?’
‘Joon just…’ you inhaled sharply.
‘I already know how strong you are. You just proved it, by reliving a fucking nightmare, by putting the rest of us first, and I know how big hearted you are – especially by letting the fucker walk.’ He inhaled sharply, his only indication that he was very disappointed in your decision. ’I know you will get through this, y/n. But you’re hurting, baby, I can feel it… and it’s breaking my heart.’
A whine left your throat and tears stung your eyes again. ‘-m confused…’
‘You’re allowed to feel anything and everything you need to, to process this y/n.’
No! ‘You don’t get it,’ you tasted salt on your lips, your time was up. ‘Joon… listen, y-you need to know…’
He hummed and rocked you from side to side lightly. ‘Do you want me to back off?’ The masculine heat that radiated off his body, it curled around you like a blanket. Your trembling lessened slightly – enough for you to get words out.
‘No, please,’ You let go of his shirt, and pushed him away to put some distance between you anyway, 'it was different, this time. And you have to know, you have to know.’
His brows pulled together, but he didn’t let you get far, his hands stayed on your elbows. Your ears felt hot, and your cheeks were aflame from embarrassment and you really didn’t want to say this, but even if you kept it inside things wouldn’t be the same.
‘H-he… tried to t-touch me, and, on my body, a– an – and my skin, and… I felt, I –,’ a strangled whine clawed out of your throat, ‘I felt his hands and they were warm and patient and… I felt him touching me and it won’t go away!’
The humiliation, of his touch being so delicate, of you not having the proper reaction in time, of you not pushing him away, of your body not reacting in the proper way in time!
‘I didn’t fight, I didn’t slap him or hurt him or push him, I tried at first, to knee him, but he deflected and, and -,I froze… and I closed my eyes closed, l-like, I could ignore it, or, or make it go away. It didn’t fully happen, he never got there, but I, I’m, I-,’ You flailed your arms, working yourself into a panic. ‘But h-he was touching me and I didn’t move! He was tracing lines, on my skin,’you curled inward and submerged fully into the nightmare, ‘and playing with me and,’ you inhaled shakily, ‘he threatened to use his fingers, me, to get me to be quiet, but he almost did it anyway and I had to listen and it almost happened and I didn’t fight him off! I, -I, don’t, I –,’
You were silenced again with Namjoon’s lips. For the nth time that day probably. They were soft as they moved against yours, this kiss tender and slow, serving as a reminder that he was there. You tasted a hint of frustration, but he didn’t let it through.
You stopped the kiss first, pushed his arms off and hid your face. ‘He bit me.’ You whispered as your fingers found the spot of its own accord. ‘It’s okay if you’re repulsed,’ You muttered in a dejected tone. ‘I am.’
You yelped when Namjoon pushed you against the wall without warning, and his hand curled around the front of your throat. He pulled you in for another kiss, a slow, deep, darkly possessive kiss, that was also a silent scolding with his teeth when he bit your bottom lip.
‘Mmmh,’ you turned your head away from him. ‘Namjoon, you’re not listening!’ He still didn’t let you go. Instead he leaned forward and bit the exact same spot. You winced at the sting, but you didn’t stop him. Namjoon had always been a darkly possessive male. Huru. Kwang. Namjoon more than needed the reminder for himself, and for you, that you belonged only to him.
Your throat felt tight when he pulled back and you saw the smoldering rage in his dark gaze. What he did say, when he spoke again, succeeded in ripping away every single defense you could ever attempt to hold against him.
‘Nerve endings in the body can react as if everything is normal, y/n.’ He breathed the words of logic, of comfort, words of calm, the complete opposite of his actions. ‘Mentally, you can know it’s wrong and not want something, and wish for it to not take place… but the body reacts, because it’s physical… Y/n that will never be your fault.’ The pressure in his fingers increased slightly, pushing you to focus, to listen to him. ‘This whole thing is not your fault.’
You did not… fucking deserve this man.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ You wrapped your hands around his wrist still at your throat and yelled at him, as tears welled up and threatened to trail down your face. ‘You should hate me. You should be disgusted. I don’t have any self-respect! I didn’t fight until the last moment! You almost lost me today, and I didn’t fight back to avoid it!’
Ashamed. You were so ashamed. Something inside you felt… broken. How could you turn on yourself like that? How could your own body betray you? How could he not see that he could do so much better than you?
‘Y/n,’ Namjoon coaxed. ‘You broke his nose. He was away from you when I got in. I know what you’re saying baby, but I know what I saw. You did fight.’
'But I almost didn’t! I was stuck and I couldn’t move and I kept wishing for it to be over.’ You closed your eyes and screamed the honest truth. ‘If he didn’t compare himself to you… I don’t know if I would have gotten angry enough to defend myself.’
‘I shut down, Namjoon,’ you clutched at his hand and sobbed. When your knees bent he closed into your space, his other hand holding you at your waist. You had no strength to keep yourself upright at the weight of the knowledge. ‘I just fucking shut… down; I did nothing!’
He hauled you into his arms, then. Needing it, needing him, you leaned into him, burrowing deeper into his chest as you sobbed. ‘How can you trust me if I can’t even trust myself?’
‘Shh,’ Namjoon’s hand circled your waist and held you against him, the other curled around your nape and squeezed. ‘I know none of my words will get through to you right now, so I just need you to know that I love you, y/n. I love you.’
You reveled in the proprietary hold and his words. You went from avoidance, to not wanting to pull away from him, you didn’t want to leave his arms. If you did, you were terrified of what you would see. Your brain answered that for you. Disgusted. He should feel so disgusted. You heard his words, you did. And they made sense and you knew in your heart that he loved you, but the possibility of him changing his mind… you were so scared of losing him. ‘I’m so sorry.’ You hiccuped dryly, your body all out of tears.
‘You have nothing to apologize for.’ You felt his jaw tick. ‘I’m the one that should be sorry.’
It was selfish to be angry at him, or any of them. You shouldn’t be in need of any saving. It was your responsibilities and your burdens and your pain. No one should have to deal with your shit. Not even your husband.
A flash of Kwang’s face in front of yours… you shuddered and tightened your hold on the front of his shirt.
You were so angry… so angry at yourself.
‘He’ll never come near you again, y/n, I swear it.’ Namjoon’s voice cuts through your thoughts. ‘Neither will your father. They’re responsible for your freeze response, not you.’
You blinked against the implication that this was a purely post traumatic response. You didn’t want to entertain it just yet, you didn’t want an out. But you didn’t say anything because of Namjoon.
Something volatile and violent was being suppressed in your husband – you could feel it. The gentle hands and kind words were for your benefit, but you knew in your heart, this night and the anger he felt on your behalf, was going to have lasting consequences.
‘You were a victim, y/n. And now you’re a survivor.’ You hated the word, even if it was true. 'But you still have your respect, and you’re still strong and you are incredible, baby, so incredibly strong. Please know that. Please, please know that,’ he whispered in your hair.
You felt… something. You didn’t agree with him right now, but his words made you feel something. And something was better than nothing.
In all honesty, facing head on should have felt worse than it did, saying it should be hard, admitting to what had happened should have some sort of double back because you weren’t even sure any part of you had processed the trauma mentally… even if you were just giving yourself props, maybe you really were resilient. Because you could act normal and talk normal and be normal and there was no doubt in your mind that the night would go and the morning would come and you would meet who you needed to meet, pack with Yuna, if she was even speaking to you, greet and reassure the band…
You swallowed against the bile that surfaced when you rubbed your legs together… you didn’t know how you were going to handle this, because you were your own worst enemy at this moment.
If you were being realistic, Kwang’s presence or what he could do, didn’t matter anymore. There was no fear of him. All of those feelings were absolutely miniscule if you compared it to the betrayal in your heart. And it was funny how the negative emotion of fear canceled out the leaden duplicity, the complete disdain you felt for yourself. The lack of confidence, the insecurities and doubts, all of it was nothing compared to the shame, the knots in your stomach, the feeling of letting yourself down as it lingered in every bone in your body, like a weight you would have to carry for the rest of your life.
You should have never told Namjoon… any of the specifics… but he was the only one you could have admitted it to. Some part of you was terrified that he could still push you away, and another part was solid in knowing he would never judge you…
Unwillingly, you turned your head and found yourself looking out of the window panels, the moon round, and it was one of those moments where you see something you like, and think ‘yes’. The downpour of the rain as it hits the roof, the light in a loved one’s smile, the trickle of laughter through your soul… and Namjoon, holding you in his arms, always doing everything in his power to hold all your shattered pieces together.
Yeah, love wouldn’t save you. No way. Not with life being this fucked up.
Namjoon moved a hand to your head and held you closer to him. And you could cry, you could scream and cry, because it was the safest you had felt all night.
‘We’ll get through this, y/n. Together.’
Together.
Just like everything else, just like the fights and the cheating and the unknown, unseen enemies you now knew you had to contend with. Guess you would need that therapy after all. Fun.
‘Hey?’ He whispered after a while.
You lifted your head from his shoulder and looked at him. He cupped your face in his hands. ‘Want some oreos?’
Despite the fucked-up-ness of the situation, the question made you smile – a genuine smile. ‘Only if we have them with coffee.’
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Part 30 - Finale [V]
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