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"ₑᵥₑᵣy ₜᵢₘₑ ₛₕₑ fₗᵢₙcₕₑd, ₕₑ ₛₘᵢₗₑd—
bₑcₐᵤₛₑ fₑₐᵣ ₘₑₐₙₜ ₛₕₑ ₛₜᵢₗₗ fₑₗₜ ₛₒₘₑₜₕᵢₙg fₒᵣ ₕᵢₘ."

𝕰𝖕𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖉𝖊 45
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The sun rose a little too late today, as if it had hidden behind the clouds, frightened—scared.

What had happened?

What had gone wrong that sent her spiraling back to the very bottom once again?

She never wanted to be part of her father's twisted world of brotherhoods and rivalries.

In fact, she hadn't even known about the deal the grown men were fighting over. The one Taehyung's father had demanded, engaging Y/n with his son, Taehyung.

As a trap.

A trap to keep them under their thumbs, a way to control the Min Family.

A soft whimper slipped past her lips as she shifted on the bed.

Her head hung heavily on the pillow; throbbed, her body tensed, as though bracing for something unknown.

The familiar scent of gunpowder and blood nowhere in the room, was replaced by a different aroma.

An expensive cologne.

Not Yoongi's.

Her pulse spiked as she realized.

She forced her eyes open.

Panic bloomed in her chest.

This wasn't Yoongi's place. This wasn't her apartment. This wasn't safety.

Thick, red velvet curtains draped the windows, casting the penthouse in a dim, moody glow.

The room was luxurious, yes—but it felt like a cage wrapped in silk.

As she attempted to sit up, a figure caught her eye, sat across the room in a high-backed leather chair, his posture calm, fingers laced, eyes watching.

Taehyung.

He didn't move, didn't speak—only tilted his head slightly, that haunting gaze settling on her like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he said finally, his voice low, gravel-soft, and far too casual.

Her breath hitched. Her body felt foreign to her, the remnants of whatever Taehyung had drugged her with still clouding her mind, making it foggy and heavy as she fought to focus.

Where am I?

How long have I been here?

Where is Yoongi?

Her fingers twitched against the plush silk sheets, and the moment she moved, Taehyung leaned forward. Not close enough to touch her. Not yet, but just enough for her to feel his presence.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. "The sedative might still be in your system."

She pushed herself up with trembling arms, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Where am I?" she croaked, her throat dry.

Taehyung studied her for a moment before answering. "Home."

A cold chill ran down her spine.

"This isn't my home."

Something flickered in his gaze, something dangerous.

Something she didn't want to see.

He exhaled slowly, as if restraining his patience, then stood.

His movements were graceful, effortless, like a predator who knew he'd already won.

And he had.

He won her back.

"It will be," he said simply, paying no mind to whether she liked it or not.

She turned her face away, nausea rising in her throat. Her voice trembled. "Let me go."

Taehyung sighed and finally rose to his feet. His movements were fluid, predator-like, as he crossed the room. Taehyung was trying his best to be patient. For her. For their past.

"Y/n," he murmured, with a calm that only made it more terrifying, "we both know that's not going to happen."

"I don't belong here."

He crouched down at the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the mattress beside her, the other reaching out—his fingers grazing her chin to guide her face back toward his.

"And yet," he whispered, "here you are."

She jerked her head away, her heart thudding in her chest. "Yoongi will come for me."

This time, Taehyung smiled. It was slow, deliberate, and far too beautiful to look away from.

"I know," he said. "And I'll be waiting for him."

There was no bravado in his words. No threat. Just certainty.

Her pulse hammered in her chest at his words as the realization hit her like a blow.

And Taehyung saw it.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost fond. "I knew you'd understand soon enough."

"You're insane," she snapped, glaring at him.

Taehyung's lips curled into a smirk at her comment, the one he was all too familiar with. His eyes stayed on her angry face a little too longer.

"And you're still so beautiful when you're angry."

She clenched her fists beneath the blanket.

Her mind raced, scrambling for a plan. But she needed to stall. To survive.

"What do you exactly want, Taehyung?!"

His smile slowly faded.

"You already know, darling." he said.

Her lips parted—but no sound came out.

Because she did know.

The air between them had shifted. It wasn't fear. It wasn't hatred.

It was something else. Something heavier.

Her throat tightened.

"I'm not yours!"

The words hit him harder than he expected. His fingers ghosted down her jawline, soft but unfamiliar. The touch felt claiming.

"Not yet, really." he murmured.

She shivered.

Not because of the cold.

But because she finally understood.

Taehyung wasn't planning to kill her.

He was planning to keep her.

By his side.

Forever.

*

*

*

Knock Knock!

"Don't." Taehyung warned sharply, halting Jimin's hand just as he reached for the door handle

The tension shifted in an instant. Taehyung straightened his jacket with eerie composure, then slowly approached the door, eyebrow raised in silent question. 'what do you want?'

Jimin smirked. "Lunch, for you," he said, lifting the takeout bag with one hand and tossing it toward him. "And her." he glanced behind Taehyung's shoulder at her little frame until Taehyung stepped further to cover his gaze.

Mad at Jimin's annoying timing, Taehyung caught it with a scowl and slammed the door in Jimin's face.

The mood broken, Taehyung walked back and dropped the bag on the bed beside her.

Her eyes didn't leave him.

He pulled out the sandwich boxes and wedges, the familiar scent of food mixing oddly with the strained air between them.

And just as he slid a tray toward her—

Knock!

Taehyung's jaw clenched. "Goddamn it."

He turned, stalking to the door. He growled, "What?"

The door cracked open—Jimin's grin peeking through.

"Urgent call for ya!" he said, voice smug.

Taehyung didn't move.

Jimin leaned against the frame, all casual mischief. "Thought you might wanna, I don't know, take care of your business, King. You wouldn't want to let that little thing wait, would you?"

Taehyung's grip on the door tightened as his annoyance flared. He knew exactly what Jimin was doing- pushing his buttons, and he hated it. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of the outside world when all he could think about was the woman on his bed.

Taehyung snatched the phone from his hand. "You'd better pray this is worth it."

With a resigned sigh, Taehyung threw one last, lingering glance at her.

As Taehyung stepped aside to take the call, Jimin slid into the room.

Uninvited.

Unbothered.

He approached the bed slowly, his gaze openly curious.

"Hey there," Jimin's voice was smooth, almost too calm for the situation. He leaned closer to her, his fingers gently brushing a strand of her hair away from her face, making sure to keep his touch light. "How is he treating you?"

She didn't answer, just glared.

But Jimin smiled. That same smile that masked a thousand dark thoughts.

He leaned in close, voice low. "You know... I could make things easier for you. While you're stuck here."

She turned her face away.

Still, his hand found hers—gently tracing the line of her knuckles.

A taunt.

A warning.

"I could be your ally," Jimin whispered. "Or your problem."

As he continued to watch her, Taehyung's voice cut across the room, hard and furious. "Jimin, get away from her."

Jimin didn't flinch. "Relax. I'm just saying hello."

He winked at her and let go, stepping back just before the storm broke loose.

"Seems like you're busy," Jimin called out over his shoulder, making sure Taehyung could hear him. "But you're not going to keep her all to yourself, are you?"

Taehyung's glare could have burned a hole through him. Without breaking his conversation, Taehyung's eyes never left Jimin as his voice rumbled like a distant thunderstorm. "Touch her again, and I'll make you regret it."

Jimin just chuckled, as if Taehyung's warning was little more than an amusing distraction. "I'm just getting to know our guest. She's been awfully quiet. I'm starting to feel like I'm the only one keeping her company around here."

Jimin leaned down again, this time taking her hand in his and gently brushing his thumb over her wrist, feeling the soft pulse of life beneath her skin. His gaze flicked to Taehyung briefly, still busy with his phone call, his jaw tight with restrained anger.

"You know, I'm starting to feel sorry for her," Jimin muttered, but loud enough for Taehyung to hear. "Being stuck in this cage, with only you to keep her company. That's gotta be miserable, right?" He flashed a teasing smile toward the bed, as if speaking to her directly. "I mean, who wouldn't want to escape that?"

Taehyung's voice lowered to a dangerous growl on the other side of the room. "If you think I won't put you in your place, Jimin, you're gravely mistaken."

Jimin ignored him, his attention fully on her. He ran a finger gently across her knuckles, his touch almost tender despite the cruel situation they were both caught in.

"I bet you've got stories to tell, don't you?" Jimin murmured, his voice soft but full of malice. "I could help you. Maybe make things more... comfortable for you while you're here."

He let the words hang in the air, knowing full well the impact they'd have. Taehyung hated it when anyone touched what was his, even if it was just a fleeting moment of attention. And Jimin knew that the more he toyed with her, the more Taehyung would grow agitated.

Jimin's lips curled into a devilish grin as he looked back over his shoulder. "It's funny. I don't even need her to say a word to know what's going on in that pretty little head of hers."

Taehyung's hand tightened into a fist, the tension rising between the two men. He finished his call quickly, hanging up with finality, but his glare remained focused on Jimin.

"Get out." Taehyung growled.

Jimin only laughed as he dropped her hand gently and stepped back, raising an eyebrow as he eyed Taehyung. He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, leaving Taehyung with her.

Taehyung's jaw clenched as his grip on the phone tightened. His eyes followed as Jimin left the room. Because he knew, Jimin was not to be underestimated.

*

*

*

Once the room was quiet again, Taehyung returned to her side again.

The tension hadn't left with Jimin. If anything, it lingered heavier in the air.

She flinched when his shadow fell over her again. Her instinct took over as he grasped her hand, she tried to pull away.

But Taehyung didn't let go.

He held her fingers gently, as if they were something fragile. Precious.

His thumb moved slowly across her skin, tracing the lines of her knuckles. His eyes never left hers.

"Don't mind his nonsense," he said softly, almost wistful. "He's always been a little... unstable. Since we were boys."

There was no malice in his tone—just a certain weariness of his behaviour.

Y/n's pulse spiked when he lifted her hand, turning it over with care. And then—without breaking eye contact—he pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist.

A kiss not of comfort.

But of claiming.

It was slow, deliberate, erasing the trace of Jimin, of every touch that wasn't his.

His mouth lingered a moment too long, warm and possessive.

When he finally looked up, his voice dropped to a near whisper. Intimate. Dangerous.

"Now," he murmured, his breath grazing her skin, "Where were we?"

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Heya! hope you enjoyed the chapter!

HAPPY 402K READS!!

Fanart of 1st episode by Leomi! Me! lol

There's much more in "Tae time with Leomi "

Check out my other book, I'm gonna post this story's taehyung x yn x jk memes (also created by me!) like:

Anything else you wanna see in the story? I'm open to suggestions dw!

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Thankyou for reading <3

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