#suga x reader

“It’s been the longest day in history. Trust those two to have the most extravagant engagement party known to man…”

Yoongi sighed and linked his hands behind his head. His soft unruly locks fell every which way as he hit the pillow.

“Well, we are talking about a Kim funded wedding event so I'm not surprised they’ve gone all out… I thought maybe there would be a flurry of doves as we walked in, it was that over the top.”

Yoongi chuckled at your comment and glanced your way, eternally in awe of how effortlessly funny you were. Quick witted and sharper than a tack like you’d always been; since the day he met you all those years ago.

“Should suggest that to Jin-Hyung for the big day – he’s all about the drama… Shit, he might actually do it,” Yoongi scoffed, making you laugh and catch his eyes – gleaming and bloodshot from jet-lag.

There was a beat before his question; a question that you didn’t expect to get and certainly one you didn't want to receive. 

“You ever think about getting married?”

The scoff that bubbled in your throat surfaced, eyes now widened at the man looking back at you with intrigue. Was he seriously asking you that? You? The girl who once had the man of her dreams and was left heartbroken? By him.

“To whom?” You asked, voice higher in pitch than you would’ve liked.

“I don’t exactly have a line of men queuing up around the corner…” 

You cringed at the self-deprecation, wishing you’d gone with something less vulnerable but the words spilled before you could catch them, painfully honest.

And Yoongi’s curled brow didn’t help you feel less desperate, “Oh, you know I’m camping out to be at the front of that queue.”

His tone was light-hearted but you knew that he wasn’t joking around. You’d found yourself here too many times, on too many late nights – fantasising about what could’ve been, maybe what should’ve been with the two of you. The almost’s, the close calls, the declarations of love when it wasn’t “the right time” and the apologies the next day when you woke up filled with regret.

Until the words stuck, a whole 3 years of a romantic relationship that was perfect in so many ways, yet equally soul-crushing. The day after the two of you met, you immediately started learning Korean and he hired an English tutor recommended by Joon, both desperate to understand one another.

Google translate only got you both so far and for the most part early on, body language was all you really needed to connect. Apparently tumbling and moaning between the sheets was a universal language, a clear yes or no getting you acquainted in the most intimate ways.

He was like a moth to a flame, obsessed on sight when he met you and he was all you could think about every day since. You understood him in ways nobody else could; his dry sense of humour and night-owl tendencies drove other people mad but you got him. And he knew all of your whims, like when to buy ice-cream on the way home or when to send a silly text to brighten your day. Twin flames, seemingly a perfect match.

But then he would leave for months on end to fulfil his relentless idol obligations, and you would stay in place, waiting for something to change. Waiting for him to realise what he had, someone who loved him to the moon and back. And he loved you with every ounce of his being, but the timing was all wrong. Like always.

And so he ended it, the cyclical pattern of "will they, won't they" abruptly coming to a close. It didn't take long for you to realise that going back to being friends, existing in same friendship group would never be the same again. They were his friends first, so you took a step back and disappeared, until now.

Until your best friend decided to marry his.

“You promised we wouldn’t say things like that anymore, Yoon.”

It was his low chuckle that really set you off, ringing in your ears like a taunt. It was as if the pain you felt every time he dangled himself in front of you, forbidden fruit, meant nothing to him. Like it didn’t rip his heart out of his chest, when it did. Calling you a friend killed him, every time he heard your voice on the phone, every time he made you laugh. Deflecting was his defence mechanism because admitting that he was the one who completely fucked up hurt every single time.

“I’m deadly serious…” You reiterated, staring into the windows of his soul, or so it felt for him as he watched your pupils widen.

“I know.”

And Yoongi did know. He knew all too well the feeling of watching you happily in love with someone that wasn't him – even if it was fleeting back before you got together. The action of finding someone new was never intended to be vengeful or mean-spirited; it was just the way it was. Timing never on your side.

Yoongi took a deep breath, “Sometimes I do think about getting married and when I do, I know you’re the only person on earth I see… There's only ever one way I imagine it and that might not be fair but it’s the truth.”

Yoongi looked back up at the crown molding ceiling, hands clasped over his stomach, rising and falling with deep breaths. His heart was pounding, confessing his feelings was never easy, especially when it came to you – and that was part of the reason you were laying side by side as friends, nothing more. So many things always left unsaid.

“You’re right, it’s not fair,” You stated, still staring at his sharpened jawline, tensing at your words.

“I feel like… I feel like we had a chance to make that happen and it didn't work out. And I fucking tried. Like, really tried to make it happen and you didn't – you walked away as if we meant nothing.”

Yoongi shot up, elbow buried into the mattress as he propped himself up beside you. As soon as you looked into those dark brown eyes, your heart shattered into a million pieces – the look of complete horror staring back at you as you stuttered through the sentence you wished you never even started. Regret getting the better of you.

“Do you seriously think that? That it didn't break me into pieces, after everything we’ve been through?” Yoongi was stunned, gobsmacked by how differently you had perceived your relationship. As if it was disposable.

He never wanted to make you feel that way, not ever.

“I fucking love you. I’m in love with you. And you know that. I know you do and I know feel the same and I've kept my distance for months, because I know how much I hurt you ...”

“... But I can't imagine my life without you. I can't.”

Yoongi reached down and softly brushed the pad of his thumb across your reddened cheek, a single tear rolling down the flushed skin as you let his words wash over you. He was right about all of it; he always was. He was the rational one, levelheaded and steadfast. But his words could only ease the pain so much and you had so many questions. So much fear.

“What if we try again and it fails and I lose you?”

“Maybe it will fail. Maybe it will ruin everything. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t at least try again.”

The room was quiet, erratic breaths were the only sounds being caught in the thickened air. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of your lungs, confessions somehow confusing the situation even more. Closure had always seemed to be the only remedy for the heartache but now actually trying was on the table. Dangling with so much temptation.

“If all that's true then, what do we do?”

Your voice was meek, barely a whisper as Yoongi fell back onto the white linen duvet, hand searching for yours. You did what you always do and laced your fingers together; a comforting gesture to ease the sadness and gentle squeeze for good measure.

“I don’t know.”

Yoongi genuinely didn’t know what to do and you could tell by the way his eyes darkened and the smile lines that you loved were gone – he was as clueless as you. Stuck.

So instead of sitting in silence, you turned over and pressed a firm kiss to his perfect lips. Yoongi was quick to react, almost as if he was already preparing to do the same thing. You melted into his touch, fingers quick to brush down his chest as he heart thumped in his chest. The one thing you knew for sure was that you could kiss this man all day, every day, maybe for the rest of your life. And that was the scary part. The part that felt dangerous, heartbreak waiting to happen. 

Yoongi was the first to come up for air, eyes blurry and heart shaped while you took a couple more seconds to return to the real world, begrudgingly opening them to see him staring right back. The sigh he exhaled was so deep that it reverberated through your bones, worrying you a little until his hands brushed down your sides and the smile etched on his face remained.

“Can I touch you?”

“Fuck yes, do it. Do anything you like…” He breathed, begging eyes trained on your nimble fingers, desperate to know where they were going.

Until a loud rapping against the door jolted you back to earth, both of your heads spinning to see Jungkook standing with a drunken grin on his face and a bottle of beer in hand. 

“Oh! Uh…” It didn’t take long for him to look startled, “Miiiaaann!” 

Both you and Yoongi fell back on the bed as the door slammed shut, giggling and groaning into hand covered mouths. If you didn’t find the funny side of the interruption, you would cry and you could tell by the look on Yoongi’s face, Jungkook was in big trouble later.

“Always a cock-block,” Yoongi grumbled, making you laugh even harder.

"Maybe it's for the best," You confessed and Yoongi nodded.

"Maybe."

Or maybe timing would eventually be on your side.

—

Yoongi is on his knees, sharpening a set of spears on a whetstone you hadn’t noticed last night, while Jieun sits on the ground, entirely focused on polishing some arrowheads, her tongue peeking out between her lips.

“Daddy’s going hunting!” Jieun declares with way too much enthusiasm and volume for this early in the morning.

Yoongi laughs and turns to you. “You won’t mind watching her while I’m gone, will you?”

You smile and shake your head. “I’d love to.”

“Thank you. I always hate leaving her here alone, but I don’t think omegas should go hunting, especially young ones,” he says.

You nod. “I understand. I’ll watch her for you.”

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders as he turns to Jieun. “Y/N is gonna watch you while I’m out hunting, okay?”

“Can she take me to go pick flowers and herbs? Pleeease?” Jieun pleads.

Yoongi laughs. “Yeah, as long as you behave and don’t wander off, okay?”

Jieun jumps around in excitement before turning to Yoongi seriously. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Good! I’ll be back with fresh meat in a little while, okay?”

“Okay! I love you, Daddy!”

“Love you too, princess,” he hugs her tightly, pressing a kiss to her head and making her giggle. “Make sure to behave for Y/N while I’m gone.”

“I will! I promise!”

Before he leaves, he turns to you. “Don’t let her cross the creek.”

“Okay...why?”

“Just don’t. It’s not safe over there,” he says, his voice leaving no room for arguing. He stops gathering supplies to look straight at you. “Promise you won’t take her there.”

“I promise,” you say, swallowing hard.

He nods, gathering the rest of his hunting supplies and giving Jieun another hug. You both watch him until he disappears into the trees.

»»---------------------------------------------------------------------------►

Once he’s gone, you turn to Jieun. “Have you eaten breakfast yet, sweetheart?”

Jieun nods. “Yeah, we did. And we even saved some for you! Daddy said it’s very important that you eat lots so you can have a healthy baby,” she answers proudly.

You laugh, heading back into the den and locating the food that was left. Fire-roasted meat and vegetables are arranged perfectly on a small plate, the smell strong enough to make your mouth water now that you’re close. Jieun sits across from you, happily rambling and telling stories of things she and Yoongi have done and all things he’s taught her.

At one point, Jieun jumps up from her chair and brings over bundles of dried herbs, pointing out each one and listing what they’re for. “This one is good for tummy aches. Daddy makes it into tea for when I eat too much. And this one is good for scrapes. Daddy makes it into a paste for when I fall while exploring! And these only bloom when it rains really hard.”

Jieun suddenly stops mid-explanation with a gasp. “Y/N! Do you know how to make flower crowns??”

You start laughing again. “Of course I know how to make flower crowns. Doesn’t every girl?”

Jieun squeals in excitement. “We need to make them today! We’ll find tall flowers! Daddy taught me how to make them. Did your daddy teach you too?”

You smile sadly. “No...some of my friends growing up taught me. We wore them to mark our presentations as omegas.”

Jieun grins. “That sounds so fun! Daddy cried when I presented, said I was too pure for the world.”

“Your daddy loves you so much, sweetheart,” you murmur, wiping your eyes as discreetly as possible.

Jieun notices, her curious eyes picking up on everything. “Why’re you crying? Is it the hormonies?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Sometimes hormones make you cry when you’re pregnant, but I’m okay.” You give her a watery smile.

“Do you want a hug? You can’t cry and pick pretty herbs at the same time, they get all blurry,” she offers seriously.

“Okay, maybe one hug. Then we have to go pick herbs,” you say, opening your arms as she darts into them, giving you a fierce little bear hug.

Glancing at the clock, you realize class is starting soon and you haven’t eaten breakfast. You jump out of bed, pull your hair into a messy bun, and you head to the kitchen to make a quick smoothie. After throwing on a simple outfit, you hurry out the door.

You drink your smoothie on the way to class, finishing it off as you reach the classroom. When you arrive, you find a notice stating that class has been canceled.

You pull out your phone and text Jung-Young. “Class is canceled for today. Do you have any plans?” You’re hoping the two of you will be able to go sightseeing, since you haven’t gotten to see many places yet.

“If class is canceled, I might hang out with Lee Ji-Hoon from class. We might go to downtown Seoul if you want to come.”

You think about it for a moment. You’d much rather study in the park than hang out with a man you’ve never met, even if Jung-young knows him.

After thinking about how to respond, you type a response. “I think I’d rather study in the park today. Maybe another time.”

“Okay! I’ll send you pics!” she replies.

You like the text before shoving your phone in your pocket and heading toward the park.

»»---------------------------------------------------------------------------►

You make it to the park fairly quickly, since almost everyone is at work or in school. You pick a shaded table and pull out your textbooks and homework. You’re about halfway through a lesson when someone sits down beside you.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” a voice asks. You tense up, your eyes darting toward the voice. You relax slightly when you realize the voice belongs to Yoongi and not a stranger, but you can still feel the adrenaline.

“Uh...I guess so,” you reply, confused.

“Remember yesterday, when I was in Jun-Ho’s office?” you nod your head, finding it odd that he’s on a first-name basis with your teacher.

“Well, that’s why I need a favor from you. I’m friends with his son, Su-Bin, but he missed a dinner we had planned on Sunday, and he won’t answer my calls or texts. I want you to see if you recognize him from anywhere.” He holds up a picture of a man who you’ve never seen before. You shake your head.

“I don’t recognize him.”

“Okay, thanks anyway. Also, you mixed up your 아 and 어 here.” He says, pointing to your homework sheet.

“Oh, thanks.” You reply, erasing the mistake while trying to hide your embarrassment.

You watch him put on a hat and mask to keep people from recognizing him and walk out of the park.

By the time you arrive at the concert, you’re vibrating with energy. While waiting in line, you bounce on the balls of your feet and fidget with your lightstick, much to the annoyance of the people around you. But your energy has to go somewhere, and you have way too much of it right now thanks to adrenaline and nerves.

You grab some merch on your way to your seat, stop in the bathroom to change, and take a bathroom break. Once you’re in your seat, you have zero intention of leaving. And that’s exactly what happens when you sit down. You’re too afraid of missing something important or missing the first glimpse of the members.

You fidget with your lightstick as you wait for the members to appear. When they do, you freeze, your brain unable to fully comprehend the fact that the members are so close and here. You pull out your phone and take pictures of the massive screens over the stage, capturing a beautifully blurry picture of Yoongi.

Throughout the concert, you jump until your feet hurt, scream until your voice is hoarse and breaking, and take enough photos and videos that you’ll never forget tonight.

After the performance is over, you stop by the bathroom again to prepare for the taxi ride back to your hotel. Much to your mortification, you walk into the men’s restroom instead. You freeze in your tracks when you see Yoongi washing his hands at the sinks.

“Ah...I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly and turn to leave.

“It’s okay,” you hear Yoongi’s Korean drawl come through as he speaks English. You can’t help but look behind you, your cheeks turning pink.

“Why are you out here? Aren’t there bathrooms backstage?” you ask, just saying the first thing that comes to mind.

He smiles a little and your cheeks turn even pinker, your heart melting a little. “Jungkook and Jimin are being...ah...바보들,” he answers in mixed English.

“Oh…they’re being fools?” you offer the word he forgot.

“Yeah, yeah. Fools,” he corrects himself, his accent making you smile.

“Sorry again,” you mutter, slipping out of the bathroom and going to the proper one. After a quick bathroom stop, you make your way through the dense crowd to flag down a taxi.

»»-------------------------------------------------------------------------►

You manage to finally flag one down after several attempts. As you slide into the backseat, someone else gets in from the other side. You start to protest such an intrusion, but stop when you recognize the eyes staring back at you between a cap and mask. Yoongi is in your cab.

You show the taxi driver the address to your hotel, then turn to Yoongi. “Why are you in my taxi?” you whisper-shout.

“Because I’m going...uh...crazy...thinking about you,” he whispers back.

“You met me ten minutes ago!”

He stares at you for a few seconds, then deadpans. “You make my pants tight.”

“Oh my God,” you squeak. “Are you always this forward with women?”

He huffs in frustration. “My dick is having a crisis. Help it.”

You choke on your spit, eyes darting down despite your best efforts. He isn’t kidding.

It feels like the weight has been lifted off your shoulders once you’ve shared your story with Yoongi. About the way Jinyoung had manipulated his way to win your father’s trust and into your life, about his betrayal, and the secret you uncovered after his death. But at the same time, the silence that follows makes you feel apprehensive about how to continue this conversation.

“So,” Yoongi speaks after the silence stretches, “You found out that he’s been altering the data himself.”

“Yes, I did,” you answer in a small voice. “And that he was stealing money from—”

Your father.

Your family.

Your throat feels tight. And so does your chest, as you recall the way your father always boasted proudly about Jinyoung—his achievements, the fruit of his hard work, and how he managed to assist your father during troubled times. You still remember how happy your father was about your engagement. How excited he was to involve Jinyoung in every plan he had for the family's and the company's future.

The pain and anger you felt over his betrayal, the emotions you had after uncovering his secret, had left you with all these questions that kept haunting you.

Did he make a move on you solely as a distraction, to stop you from uncovering his sins?

Did he know that you were watching him closely, suspecting him of having despicable intentions against your father?

Was it all pretend—the warmth he shared, the love he made you feel, and the tender way he took care of you?

And these unanswered questions had led you into your hunt for the truth. It led you to here, accepting Yoongi’s hands in marriage, hoping that it would take you one step closer to answers.

Yoongi rises from his seat and walks over to the pantry, returning with a bottle of rum.

“It’s early, but I figured at least one of us might need this.”

His comment draws a small smile on your face. You nod, and he gently pours a knuckle's worth of rum into a shot glass and slides it across the table. He pours another for himself, and right after he closes the bottle, he tosses the drink down his throat, groaning deeply at the taste.

“Forgive me. This is all a bit much for me to take,” he says, returning to his seat. He brushes his palm across his jaw, his entire body tense, yet he manages to control his emotions with a sigh. “His betrayal against your father’s company aside, how did you find out that he had also set a target on your back?”

The knot in your chest tightens.

So hard, it feels hard for you to breathe. You reach out for the shot glass and toss the rum down your throat—slightly more gently, yet still too quickly than you used to. It tastes bitter, and the heat of the liquor stings as it slides down your throat, warming your body in an instant, making you wince.

But at least it’s enough to burn the pain lingering in your chest since the day you unmasked Jinyoung’s darkest secret.

“I haven’t been back to Jinyoung’s apartment since the night he—” Your words caught as you recall the night Jinyoung passed away, when you rushed out the door after hearing the news, never to return. You shake it off and continue, “On the night of our engagement ball, I met Jinhee, his sister. After confirming that his family wouldn’t be using the place, she handed the keys and all access to the apartment after the ball, and I began using the place as my own.”

Your little hideout.

“That’s where you moved all of your belongings after selling your old place.”

You nod, without bothering to ask him how he knew. “I figured that if I wanted to continue searching for answers, if I wanted to learn more about what secrets he kept from me, it would be best to use the apartment, where I could move more freely without anyone watching.”

“A place to turn into a safe house.”

“Something like that,” you say with a scoff, shrugging. His lips twitch into a small smile, urging you to continue.

But the bitterness in your chest flares up as you remember the first time you entered the apartment again after a while. “The place was clean, almost looked untouched,” you recount what you saw that day. "As if someone had come in to clean everything, down to every last drop of dust.”

And that was the problem.

The place was too clean.

It wouldn’t have mattered if only his family had come in to take all his belongings so they could hand over the place to you more properly. It would explain why they would take the time to clean the place. Yet most of his personal belongings remained, except for some of his valuables, which you used to see being displayed in his bedroom, along with the electronic devices he used to work.

“Except for the old computer set that he once used before his promotion, there was nothing left behind in his home office. Even when I used it to try to access his files, I couldn’t find anything. As if whoever came in to take away his things had decided that it was also necessary to clean all the data that Jinyoung kept at home.”

But that hadn’t been the only thing you had found strange.

Being in that apartment again without Jinyoung had felt unsettling. Not only for the memories, or the way it felt without him—cold, and unfamiliar—and how empty it felt, but it was also because you found the place no longer showed anything that was left of his touches, no trace of his presence, except for the fancy suits still hanging in his closet.

It made you curious, leading you to look closer.

“While I was trying to settle in, I went back to his bedroom and looked through his things that were left behind.”

And that was when you found them.

“There was a place that they didn’t touch while cleaning up the place. They must’ve missed it, since it was hidden so well.”

“What did you find?”

You lift your gaze to look at Yoongi and sigh. “A hidden compartment, right at the back of his closet.” Hidden behind his suits, you found a switch that opened up the back wall like a hidden door, revealing everything that Jinyoung had hidden from you.

Yoongi’s body tenses. “What was in it?”

“Everything that wasn’t supposed to be there.” Your breath catches, but you continue anyway. “Guns and other weapons, all in various shapes and sizes, and devices that I had never seen before. There was a deposit box and a briefcase kept in there too, filled with passports showing his photo but with different names attached to each one, and—”

Your head spins just as you recall opening the safe deposit box with the help of a locksmith you hired through Jungkook, when you found the things that turned your entire world upside down, forcing you to go down the rabbit hole of secrecy.

“There were files and photos—”

When your breath gets caught again, Yoongi leans forward to ask, “Of who?”

Looking straight into his eyes, you take a deep breath before answering, “Of me.”

Yoongi’s eyes grow wide with surprise and knowing, yet he doesn’t say anything. He also keeps his hands entwined on the table, keeping himself back to give you space until you can carry on.

“There was a folder containing copies of every single file ever released under my name. My birth certificate, medical records, school records, starting from grade school up to university, and records of all the business deals I’ve done both when I was building my own business and while I was working under my father.” You pause, feeling your whole body trembling in fear and anger.

This is the first time you’ve ever shared this with anyone.

While it feels like you’re taking a massive weight off your shoulders by unveiling this to someone else, it also makes you feel like your world is crumbling around you once again—because talking about it like this only makes it more real.

It forces you to face the facts that you’ve been trying to ignore.

“He had been studying everything about me for years. Starting long before we both met.”

And that he was the one who posed the biggest threat to your life while he was in it.

You blink away the tears threatening to fall and clench your hands, forcing the tremble to stop. “Then I looked at the photos to see when and where they were all taken from…and I saw that at least half of them were taken while I was living away from my family, candid pictures from the days I spent building my winery business and when I was taking all those classes that were supposed to help me in making it happen.”

Just how far back did he start doing it?

“And that’s when I saw the contract they were all attached to. An agreement he signed, and notes on how he was supposed to take my life once his job in my father’s company was done.”

Yoongi remains silent for a brief moment. You almost believe that you see a hint of anger flaring in his eyes, though it quickly fades when he lowers his gaze. “Did you find any information on the people who sent him?”

“No, nothing at all.” You shake your head. “I looked, but just like all the traces of Jinyoung in the apartment that were no longer there, there were no clues about the people he was working for, or what their agenda truly was.”

The only thing you found in Jinyoung’s hidden storage was the copies of the contract mentioning SS Novelties. That was the reason why you tried to find out who they were, hoping that it might lead you to something. But your search had only led you to another rabbit hole, another secret to uncover, without finding any direct connections between those contracts.

Nothing other than the fact that Jinyoung was the only direct link between them.

“I even went around the place and tried to look for any trace of cameras, wires, anything that might lead me back to them. I dusted every inch of the apartment for fingerprints, but—”

“Fingerprints?” Yoongi snaps, completely caught off-guard. “Just how far were you planning to go to find the truth about Jinyoung?”

“I’d do anything—everything I could. I know you would’ve done the same,” you reason with him. It’s not like you have any need to explain yourself to him. Not about this matter, or what you do behind his back. But the way he reacts feels unsettling, that you cannot stop yourself from trying to make him see things your way.

As expected, Yoongi isn’t happy about it. You can see it in his eyes, even when he tries to hide it. Yoongi leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he continues asking questions, his voice cuts deep with accusations, “And who do you suspect might have been the ones to send him to you and your family?”

“Everyone.”

Now that it has come to this, you find no reason to hide it any longer.

“Every staff member, every person related to the company, the people within the board of directors working closely with my father, clients, partners, rivals…you.” Yoongi clenches his jaw, and you know that you are threading through danger by revealing this, yet you continue, “You and your family.”

Yoongi pours another shot of rum, tossing it back before rising to his feet. Guilt fills your chest as you watch him move towards the window, looking faraway into the city, as if struggling to keep his composure. You hate that you had to become the bearer of bad news, and you can understand why Yoongi reacts this way.

Who in the world would enjoy being accused of plotting a scheme against their rival, much less to cover it with a murder? By his own wife, no less.

“Have you ever shared this with anyone?” Yoongi questions you while he continues looking out the window, avoiding your gaze.

“No, I haven’t.”

He turns around to look at you, his expression unreadable. “Not even your mother? Your father?”

You slowly shake your head. “No, not with them. I couldn’t—” You pause, then continue, “But my mother had already suspected that your family might be involved in Jinyoung’s accident even without me saying anything.”

Yoongi’s gaze remains on you as he walks around the table. He moves leisurely, approaching you slowly. Not like a predator coming to his prey, but still intimidating enough to make you feel small under his accusatory gaze. It makes you feel powerless. And undeniably guilty.

“And you believed her…because it lined up with what you’ve suspected might have happened.”

Nodding slowly, you recall the night you found your mother at the family mansion, sitting in the dark as if a piece of her soul had been lost. Her eyes were haunted, and she immediately broke into tears the moment she saw you entering the room.

"Oh, my dear child. My poor, poor child," was what she said when she held you tightly in her arms while you cried, when the tears wouldn't stop flowing, just as the cracks inside your chest kept growing deeper and deeper. Then, before you even had the chance to breathe and let go of your grief, to force yourself to gain strength so you could get through the motion, she began filling your head with her beliefs.

"It was them. They've done this before, and now they've done it again. Now they're hurting my baby. They did this. They killed Jinyoung. The Min family killed Jinyoung.”

You close your eyes, hoping that it could help you forget the way she looked back then when she said those words. "Yes, and for a moment, I felt relieved knowing that I wasn't crazy, so I ignored every other possibility of what may have happened and who might've been involved," you shamefully admit.

Did you, at some point, believe that Yoongi and his family might have been the ones responsible for Jinyoung's death? 

Yes, you did.

But only because you needed someone to blame for what had happened. You even ignored the voices in your head that refused to believe otherwise—that the Min Family had nothing to do with it. At least, not Min Yoongi. Until your research began showing you other facts that no longer supported your mother's theories.

"I don't blame you," Yoongi says, right as you are ready to apologize for having doubts about him. "I would've suspected everyone around me if I had been in your shoes. It couldn't have been easy for you."

“No,” you choke. You didn’t expect him to understand, or to show you this kind of compassion, after finding out what you’ve been suspecting him of doing. Hearing the gentle way he speaks to you cuts deeper than the way his anger does. “No, it wasn’t.”

His jaw clenches. “Was this the reason why you accepted my proposal and agreed to sign the marriage contract?”

You look him straight in the eye and admit, “It was part of the reason.”

“And was it also the reason why you agreed to join hands with your mother in her plans to bring us down?”

“No! I never said I ever agreed to do it.” You jump to your feet as you speak your truth.

“But she did try to involve you in it,” Yoongi continues to accuse you. “What is she after?”

“I don’t know—”

“Stop covering for her!”

“I don’t know!”You snap. “My mother, she—” Anger flares inside you from having your voice unheard. Yet, just as quickly as it rises, your anger easily wanes the moment you take a deep breath. Neither of you would solve anything, and this talk wouldn’t go anywhere if you let your emotions take over, and he needs to hear the truth.

Your truth.

Everything that you’ve kept to yourself and what has been eating you up inside.

“My Mom has always had her secrets. Things she keeps to herself. It’s always hard to determine what she is thinking.” Sighing, you try to swallow the bitter truth that has been clawing at your chest—that you may not have known your mother as much as you had thought. “But I know that she holds some resentment against your family. Specifically, your grandfather.”

Vengeance.

Yoongi may not be someone who would trouble himself with such matters, but he can’t say he is a stranger to it.

He has never been one to dwell on revenge, no matter how many times others have wronged him. Yet he has met enough people who devoted their lives to it—people who built themselves around old wounds until vengeance became the only thing keeping them alive. More often than not, his own family had been the reason.

The Min name has left too many enemies behind.

That's why he knows, with quiet certainty, that there isn't a single part of you capable of carrying that kind of hatred.

He never saw it when you first agreed to this marriage arrangement. He doesn't see it now, either—not when you look at him with hope you never bother to hide, or when happiness quietly finds its way into your eyes each time you lean into his warmth.

He wants to trust you.

No…that isn't quite right.

He already does.

He only needed to hear you say it yourself.

“I told you, I never agreed to be a part of her scheme and do…whatever she’s planning for you.”

The more you try to explain yourself, the heavier the guilt settles inside him.

He never intended to corner you like this. Never intended to make you feel as though you had to defend yourself. Because the truth is, he had never truly believed you were capable of becoming your mother's weapon.

Even when the evidence suggested otherwise. Even when your movements seemed to follow her directives. He had trusted the person he knew over the picture everyone else tried to paint.

What unsettled him wasn't the possibility that you'd betray him. It was everything you refused to let him see.

The secrets. The risks you kept taking alone.

How was he supposed to protect you when he didn't even know what you were fighting?

“I had to play along and make her believe that we both share the same goal. That was the only way I could gain her support. It was the only way I could get through with our wedding.” You lower your gaze and let out a soft chuckle. “She was set on stopping it from happening, thinking that I was only going to risk my own life by getting involved directly with you and your family and by accepting your hand in marriage.”

Yoongi clenches his hands. His anger had subsided a while ago. He had suspected that the grief you felt from Jinyoung’s death was what led you to it—to risk everything to avenge his death.

Had your mother seen the same thing and thought that she could use your grief to manipulate you to follow her?

A pawn.

That's what your mother had reduced you to. Just another piece to move across the board.

The same way his grandfather had once done to him.

That was what he believed until you admitted knowing more about Jinyoung’s secrets than you let on.

“I had to make her believe that I was only doing this for revenge, to get closer to you so I could find a way to hurt your family from the inside,” you continue with a bitter smile. He almost laughs, because at some point, he almost believed it too. “All I ever needed was answers. That was all. That was the reason I took this risk.” 

Yoongi lets out a slow breath. His shoulders loosen for what feels like the first time since this conversation began.

This...

This was the answer he'd been waiting for.

Because if revenge was never your destination, then perhaps there was still time.

Time to keep you away from whatever had been waiting in the shadows long before either of you realized it.

“Alright. I get it,” he calmly says. And it pleases him to see that his words somehow put you at ease.

But this time, Yoongi is the one who needs answers. “You said your mother seems to have some sort of a grudge against my grandfather. So is he the real target, then?”

You tilt your head. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

Yoongi lets out a chuckle. No, he isn’t surprised that you would bring up his grandfather.

After all, the man has always been the center of everything from the very beginning. The catalyst of all the events that have unfolded over the past five years. Including the event which led to his brother’s fall from grace.

“I may have a lot of faults of my own. And I’m not the only one in the family who is willing to do anything for the family’s sake and for the success of our business,” Yoongi admits. “But my grandfather is a whole different matter.”

His mouth tastes bitter as he says this. Just as bitter as the bad memory from the past that comes rushing in.

"He lives by a different set of rules," Yoongi says, bitterness coating every word. "He looks at everyone around him as though they're pieces to arrange however he sees fit."

A humorless smile crosses his face. "My grandfather would betray his own blood if it served his purpose. He's done it before. More than once."

His gaze lowers as he is deep in thought. "If our fathers truly had the kind of connection which you've suspected in the past... I wouldn't be surprised if he was the reason it ended."

You nod and begin to look back, wondering if there had been any signs you missed. Anything that may have hinted at your father’s deep connection with your now father-in-law. “I don’t remember my Dad talking about yours in a bad light.”

“Mine neither.” He tries to smile, though it feels stiff. “I suppose the same can’t be said about how your parents think of my grandfather.”

“It wasn’t so much through words. But you’d be able to feel it if you’d been there with them,” you answer after a brief pause, shaking your head.

“My Dad rarely speaks about your grandfather except for anything related to their rivalling business moves,” you slowly recount. “My Mom stays by my father’s side from time to time on his business trips, but I don’t think she ever truly involves herself in the business unless she’s needed during important decision-making. But that’s only because she’s one of the main shareholders. She rarely makes any comment directly about the people my father works with or against.”

Yoongi nods.

He had always known your mother was one of the company's principal shareholders, but he had never understood how deeply her influence reached until her recent movements forced him to look closer.

Unfortunately, the deeper he dug, the less he found. It was as though everything about her life before marrying your father had simply...vanished.

“There’s always a different tension coming from my parents whenever your grandfather’s name is brought up. Whether it’s during a work meeting or a passing conversation,” you add, while looking back, “even if they try not to show it.”

A small smile lifts across your face. “You probably noticed it too during our wedding day. It was quite hard to miss when we were sitting with them at the reception dinner.”

Yoongi knows exactly what you mean.

There was not much to say about the wedding reception, but it would be impossible not to notice the tension brewing at the dinner table where the bride and groom’s parents were seated. The situation was unsettling, and it was obvious that your mother had been the one most affected, seeing how she kept drinking her wine throughout dinner—as if she were desperately trying to wash away bad memories instead of celebrating her daughter’s wedding.

And that tension didn’t quite fizzle out even after his grandfather had left the ceremony. As if even the traces he left behind were too potent for anyone to find peace in his absence.

“It wasn’t until we started talking about our wedding day that my mother began talking openly about your grandfather,” you continue. “But she never clearly spoke about why she despised him so much. She would keep going on and on about how untrustworthy your grandfather was and how I shouldn’t trust you.”

“Because she thinks I’m no different than him,” Yoongi says, to which you nod.

“The answers that you’re looking for,” Yoongi continues, subtly changing the topic. He has heard enough about the possibility that his grandfather had a hand in all of this, and now he needs to understand more about what you’re truly after.

“You’re not just looking into Park Jinyoung’s death, are you?”

You take a long, deep breath before answering, “I want to know…” You pause, shaking your head. “No, I need to understand what really happened. If that car crash wasn’t just a simple accident, I want to know who was behind it and why he was targeted.”

Your voice trembles as you speak. But the moment you start opening up, you just can’t seem to stop.

“I want to know what he’d gotten himself involved in, and how he was—” You stop yourself when your throat tightens, almost like you are breaking apart on the inside. Then, with a small voice that’s almost like a whisper, you slowly add, “I need to know if everything was ever real.”

There it is.

For a fraction of a second, Yoongi can see it. The grief you’ve spent so long burying beneath determination. For the first time, he understands that none of this began as revenge.

It began with love.

“Sweetheart…” He murmurs, as he holds himself back from reaching out to you. To hold you. To catch you when he can see your world is falling apart, yet again, as you relive all the pain.

Before he can say anything, you lift your chin. That fragileness he saw in you disappears when you look into his eyes to say, “I also wanted to know the reason why my mother resents your family so much that she feels wary of you, even though she’d known you for as long as I have.”

You let out a sigh. “She had watched us grow up together, so why…”

Once again, you pause, as if the question itself is weighing on you. “What did your grandfather do to have her so afraid of him when she met him at our reception dinner?”

Afraid was not the word that Yoongi would have used to describe the expression he saw on your mother’s face at that wedding reception dinner.

In his eyes, your mother had appeared like someone who was wounded so deeply that being there at the family dinner table had been too much for her to handle.

Just like you, he now feels the same need to understand everything. Because while your mother hadn’t been the only person who had shown the same emotions when it came to his grandfather, it pains him to know how much it directly affects every single decision you’ve made until it reaches this point.

Yoongi closes his eyes briefly. “I wish I had all the answers…”

“I knew it wouldn’t be easy from the start. That’s why I had to do everything that I’ve done so far to get them,” you cut him off before he could say more.

But Yoongi isn’t happy to hear this coming from you.

Thinking about it only makes him angrier—at you, the situation, and most of all, at himself. He couldn’t react properly each time he received reports about your movements. About everything you do, the places you go to, and the people you see to get what you are looking for.

And it’s making him feel powerless. Because it makes him feel as if he would never be able to reach you the moment you might need him the most.

"So you chased buried secrets on your own," Yoongi says quietly, though the calm barely masks the anger beneath it. "You kept walking straight into danger without telling anyone."

His jaw tightens.

"How could you think that was your only option?"

"Because I had no one else to trust!" You snap, and it silences him—his words, his thoughts.

Your words hit him harder than he expected.

"Not even me?"

You look at him, hands clenched at your sides. With a deep, resigned sigh, you painfully confess, "Especially you.”

Yoongi lets out a bitter laugh. “Of course,” he sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “Was that before or after you decided to think for yourself instead of blindly believing your mother’s theory?”

“Even if I no longer trust her theories, that doesn’t mean I can easily start trusting you. Not when I still have no idea what kind of secrets you’re still keeping from me.”

You refuse to look away as you say this. You want to see him deny it. “With my mother’s resentment against your grandfather and what happened with your brother, it’s harder not to question if things aren’t really connected to you.”

Yoongi tilts his head. “What does my brother have anything to do with this?”

You don’t give him an answer right away. For a brief moment, it seems as if you are debating whether or not to answer.

“Years ago, when your brother was taken into custody over the embezzlement case, I saw him on the live reports. I saw what he was trying to scream out to everyone, and the way he looked to the camera as if hoping someone would listen,” you start, while Yoongi can’t help but wonder where this is going, until—

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” you add, and he realizes that you are quoting his brother—all the nonsense he was spouting when he was taken away. “He kept saying that, over and over again.”

Yoongi clenches his jaw. He remembers that day, no matter how hard he tries not to think about it. He doesn’t enjoy reliving it, much less hearing this coming from you. “And you thought I had a hand in what happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” you scoff, throwing your hands up. “I didn’t know much about the relationship you had with your brother, but learning what happened between you, your brother, and your ex, I couldn’t help but try to connect the dots until I could find something to prove me wrong.”

“And did you?” He asks. “Did you manage to connect all those dots? And you made connections between me and my brother’s crime?”

You let out a resigned sigh. Slowly, Yoongi can see the anger in your eyes being replaced with defeat. “All I know is that everything seems to circle back to you.”

“Including Jinyoung and his accident,” Yoongi concludes. “Do you still believe that now? That I’m somehow involved in Jinyoung’s contract to take your life and then his death?”

“I don’t…” You shake your head and exhale deeply. “I don’t know anymore, Yoongi. I’m not even sure if I’m looking at the right places to know the answers.”

“But what if I am the one responsible? What if I had been the one who sent Jinyoung to kill you and to put your father’s company down?” Yoongi calmly asks, though he isn’t sure if he would like the answer you’ll give him.

“What will happen next? Will you do it? The scheme your mother plotted to avenge your pain?”

You seem hesitant to answer. But he can see the wheels in your head turning, working hard to play all the scenarios he’d given you.

“Yes, then I would do it,” you finally say. Though your words lack conviction when you add, “everything that my mother wishes for me to do. I would take you and your family down without any doubt. Without even batting an eyelash.”

“Is that so?”

Yoongi grits his teeth. He can feel his frustration boiling. Yet he tries not to show it.

Right then, for another split second, your mask slips. He can see what you are not telling him. He can see your true feelings, which are written clearly in your gaze.

“But you won’t do it,” he says, finding calmness as he slowly steps forward.

He gets close enough until he can hear the slight hitch in your breath when you notice him standing right before you. He studies your face for a moment, his eyes looking deep into yours.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” He gently asks. “Why? What is stopping you?”

At first, you give him no answer. But he can feel your walls slowly crumbling down. So he keeps pushing. “What made you start second-guessing everything?”

When silence falls, the distance between the two of you suddenly feels unbearable.

Before he can stop himself, Yoongi reaches up, his palm settling gently against your cheek. Just so he can feel you.

You don't pull away. That alone loosens something painfully tight inside his chest.

“If you have been suspecting me for so long, what made you stop?”

At his gentle voice, a sigh escapes you. As if something inside you finally slips free. “Because, before last night, I still couldn’t decide if you truly were the one pulling all the strings from the shadows, or if you were once also a target, just like I am now.”

His heartbeat quickens. Yet he remains calm. “So which one is it?” He asks. “Who am I? Am I the other target, or the enemy?”

You briefly close your eyes and tilt your head, leaning into his touch.

“Whichever you are doesn’t matter.” You open your eyes, showing calm resolve when you look at him.

"Because I know..." you whisper, your voice barely holding together. "That somewhere along the way...you became part of the reason I was marked as a target."

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Once you’re both inside, you go and sit on the farthest side of the living room possible. Just because he picked you in his stupid ceremony doesn’t mean you have to be all starry-eyed and suck up to him.

“You hate me,” he observes. “Why?”

“You don’t want the answer to that question. Nor would you care,” you shoot back.

“Try me,” he challenges.

“The village I came from doesn’t have enough food. Everyone’s starving,” you explain.

“What? Your...whole village? No, my father wouldn’t let such a thing happen.” He shakes his head in denial.

“Oh, yeah?” you snap. “Then how do you explain this?” You hike up your shirt enough for him to see your sunken stomach and prominent ribcage. He should have already noticed something was wrong from your hollow cheeks, but it seems he’s not that observant or attentive.

“That’s...you must not be from the village. Or your family is being punished for something. I’m sure there’s a reason. My father wouldn’t starve a whole village,” he tries to reason.

“Are you calling me a liar?” you retort.

He crosses his arms with a huff. “Maybe I am. There’s no way my father would let such a thing happen.”

You growl at him. “You’re making me hate you more.”

“You can’t back out now. You’re going to be my mate now. Big mistake I’ve made,” he grumbles.

“I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight.” You get up and stalk off, heading for the room farthest away from the living room.

»»---------------------------------------------------------------------------►

You spend the better part of the next week hiding out in your room. You refuse to have any contact with him whatsoever, angry with both him and yourself because he didn’t believe the dire circumstances your village is in.

Eventually, a firm knock sounds on your door. “Enough sulking, you’re acting like a child. My father will expect us to have gotten to know each other by the time he comes tomorrow. You need to get over whatever this is.”

You storm over and open the door. “I’m not having anything to do with you until you believe me. Why won’t you believe me? The evidence is right in front of you. Why won’t you believe me?” you shout until tears stream down your face, fists pummeling his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, trying to still your fists. His breath hitches when he feels how thin you really are, ribs poking his arms. “Gods...you really are starving. Come on, you’re eating something.”

A faint gasp escapes your lips as he scoops you up, carrying you bridal style to the kitchen. He sets you in a chair and goes to warm up some broth for you.

When he brings it over, you just stare at it. “I didn’t poison it, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he deadpans, sitting down with an unamused look.

You pick up the spoon, taking a hesitant bite, before just picking up the whole bowl and downing it. You lean back in your seat, stomach full to the brim. About five minutes later, your stomach starts hurting. You drank the broth too fast, and your stomach wasn’t ready for something it needed to digest. Leaning forward, you rest your head on the table, your hands pressed against your stomach.

“Shit, was that too much?” Yoongi’s voice cuts through the pain, prompting a tiny nod from you.