for what she knew his future held

The tear from within (BTS Taehyung x Reader)

Originally posted by taehanstic-baby

Genre: Fluff, angst, slice of life

Summary: He never knew what the future held, and sometimes wish he didn’t.

// Please don’t leave me, please, she yelled. She cried and shook her head, as if elucidating her fear.

Don’t bring me away!

And with that, she disappears into the blinding bright light, and out of his reach.

He would wake up with a jolt as dreams like these replayed almost daily. Flicking on the nightstand, it took him a few seconds to adjust to the sudden introduction of the warm yellow light that illuminated the room. Pupils naturally gravitating to the pillow on his right, he could almost see her lying silently, deep in sleep. But she wasn’t there.

She was away on a work trip, and he knew better than to be a jerk to call her in the wee hours of the morning. He knew how much she hated to be woken from her sleep, how much she would be in a foul mood when she never had sufficient rest. Smiling at the thought of her cute pouts, he grabbed her pillow and sunk his face into it, allowing himself to get drunk in the scent of her hair.

He still sent her a text, asking if she’s alright and that he loves her.

That was Kim Taehyung. Someone who loved his wife a little too much, and perhaps a little too dearly. But then again, love has no limits. Ladies his wife’s age all gaze at his alluring beauty, internally wishing they had a husband like him. In moments like that, he would only smile and hook his arm around her waist, scooting her close before giving her a peck on her cheek. It was as if that single movement could speak and started telling everyone else that he only had eyes for her.


She too, only had eyes for him. Nothing of the glittery or shimmery would appeal to her as much as her husband did. She would lovingly gaze at his face whenever he fell asleep on the sofa when the news came on, although he was the one who insisted to accompany her. As his head rested comfortably on the soft cushioned headrest, his breathing slowed to a hum. When that happened, she would pull her woolen cardigan over, watching him as she brushed the brown locks out of his face. His eyelids would flutter slightly in response, and she smiled at the sight of him, heart swelling at the thoughts of his little confessions that surfaced in her mind.


Taehyung was no cook, but he was willing to be a chef for her. Taehyung was no clown, but he was willing to do silly faces to make her double over with laughter when she was down. Taehyung was no thief, but he still stole her heart.

Even as married couples for a good five years, they had the ability to make each other’s breath hitch in their throat. They had the ability to fall head over heels for each other and a giggle would still escape her throat at the sight of Taehyung doing those silly things.


It was on a fine morning, where the sun cast its warmth over their backyard and coloured the fields a beautiful palette of colours. The smell of pancakes wafted into the bedroom from the little crack of the door that was left ajar. Taehyung let the aroma be his compass and lead him the way to where it came from.

Only then did he realise, she was there too and he concluded that she was the one emitting both the aroma and sunrays.

“Hey, morning sleepy head!” she chuckled as she felt his lanky arms encircle the circumference of her waist, chin finding its place on her shoulder.

Shaking his head off, she continued “hey, i need to add some maple syrup. If you aren’t getting off, you’re not getting any!” she joked.

“What’s the point of maple syrup anyway, you’re the sweetest honey” he grinned.

“Oh, Taehyung. You’re so greasy, should have woke you up to coat the pan. Now go wash up! You stink! Go go go-” she jokingly pinched her nose and chased him out of the kitchen.

As he laughed, he let out a husky and low chuckle that made her fall in love with him all over again.

She set the table and waited for him to get ready. Playing around mindlessly with the cup of warm milk, she swirled its contents as if it were red wine, watching as little translucent bubbles formed at the top. When he plopped down on the seat opposite with a fresh minty scent, she cleared her throat and started.

“So, we are going to have a new addition”, she breathed.

“Oh? When is Charlie coming back? Isn’t he under the care of your mum?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows as the worry lines on his forehead deepened.

That was something she loved, the way the lines ran deep to the middle of his eyebrows on either side.

Making a tsking sound, she put down the cup of milk.

“Really? Are we talking about Charlie now?” she asked unbelievably.

Charlie was their 4 year old Maltipoo. He never seemed to grow bigger, or older as his constant bubbly personality sometimes drove her up the wall when he ripped the pages of magazine she stored away carefully.

“If not?” Taehyung asked casually, lowering his gaze onto the plate of pancakes before they found their way back to her beautiful sculpture-like face.

“You’re going to be a father, you stupid bean” she laughed.

Her laughter sounded like the wind chimes, light and airy amidst the breeze. She watched as her husband’s confused face morphed into something she would describe as delight, amazement and pure pure joy as he sprung from his seat, enveloping her with a wave of kisses and a big embrace she fell backward.

She inhaled the clean detergent scent from his clean clothes and closed her eyes as she immersed herself in a moment like that.

In the months that followed, Taehyung was like an overprotective hen, putting his precious on his radar and censoring anything that he deemed dangerous within the radius of 50m.

“Oh, please Taehyung.” she cackled, never failing to be amused at the things he thought would pose a threat.

She used to joke that if it were compiled, it would ramble on in long boring lists.

‘It’s always better to be safe than sorry’ seemed to be Taehyung’s life motto as he always rushed to defend himself when she was about to complain about him being too conscientious. She could only put her hands up in resignation and let Taehyung do whatever he wanted if that appeased him.

At this sight, he would lace his hand over hers like the laces on sneakers. This movement of his seemed to pull her up and together when she felt like she was falling apart or when she felt plagued with fatigue carrying a little bean inside of her. She sighed at the beautiful thought of forming a family tree, teaching her little one how to learn how to count to 10, or how to say mummy and daddy. It had always been her dream to be able to be a mum herself, and it feels almost surreal to be experiencing it soon with her first and last love, Taehyung.

Taehyung remembered the little talks they had as they sat on their balcony and the stars watched them from above.


“If it’s a girl it’s going to be Taerin” he affirmed.

“Oh come on! What makes you think it would be a daughter?” she would feign her anger as she stuck her arms to her hips.

“I just do”, he would reply in a singsong voice, and eventually she would break into a smile.

He remembered her saying that even if it were a son she would love him just as much, and then there would be 3 important guys in her life. Her dad, himself and their son.

Under the glimmering stars, Taehyung could almost swear that he saw tears in her eyes, as they reflected the starlight. But just as he saw it, it seemed to disappear into the distance, into the dark abyss of her pupils.


The day he cradled his little bean from the labour ward, he knew she took after her beautiful mother. The way her eyes formed little crescents as the corners of her lips tipped, the way her cheeks were painted a rosy blush of pink. Even the way her little fingers closed in on his pinkie would make him go crazy. Because that was just how much Taehyung loved Taerin.


However much Taehyung did love her, her postnatal depression made him want to crash his head against the wall. Her screams and the baby’s wails would get to the best of him as he grabbed his coat off the rack and stormed out of their apartment. These scenarios played out almost daily, and it honestly made Taehyung sick.

Nonetheless, soon after, he would always feel the guilt gnawing away on the corners of his heart as he thought about the 2 precious ladies waiting for him at home.

Sometimes, things aren’t so nice. There was an occasion when Taerin was at his mum’s and he was starting to get annoyed at her unreasonable moodswings.

“Why can’t you at least calm down a little?” he would question.

And that was how it always started. How Taehyung would always hope for her to cool down but she would only get angrier at his inability to understand her. Their conversations would escalate into heated arguments with the same endings; where she would stand with tears streaming silently down her face as he buried his face in his palm.

“What would you do if I told you I don’t have time left?” she said, looking far into the distance.

At that moment, she felt so distant even Taehyung felt like a jerk for not realising earlier.

“What are you talking about, baby?” he asked, bile rising in his throat as all his anger from earlier transitioned into worry.

Fine worry lines deepened as he squinted his eyes slightly that was weighed down with eye bags due to the sleepless nights he had.

“I said I’m dying. I’m dying soon!” she wailed, hysterical as she crashed into his arms, bawling her eyes out.

Then it clicked into picture. Taehyung remembered the times she would complain about her persistent migraines, dizziness and nausea. Something both of them always brushed off with a dose of those tablets they got off the counter from the pharmacy.

Until they became so constant the pharmacist told her to get it checked. And it only struck Taehyung then, that he failed to ask her how the consultation dated almost 3 months back went.


“My days are very, very numbered.” She said when she calmed down, eyes vacant as she stared into the distance.

They were seated at their balcony, a place which held so many memories. From those midnight talks as newlyweds to the mature “adult talks” they shared.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?” Taehyung exploded into a storm of anger, as he started to pace the perimeter of the living room, unable to understand her actions.

He hear her shout echoing across the apartment, because if i told you earlier, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Taerin and work were already pushing you near the edge of the cliff, don’t think i couldn’t tell.

And would it make a difference if you told me now?

I’m sorry.

He heard her defeated sigh and watched as she pushed past him. As soon as Taehyung heard the door to their room slam shut, he let out a shaky breath and steadied himself on the sofa. He failed, as he crashed onto the seat.

When the first tear of fear rolled down his cheek, the rest followed in an unbroken stream.

That night when he crawled into bed, he saw her lying down in a fetus position as she clutched the blanket close to her. She looked so vulnerable it broke Taehyung’s heart. It was as if she was holding on to the blanket for her dear life.


What was it exactly?

He pulled her close to him and let himself breathe into her hair. He felt her shoulders shake ever so slightly as she turned to him and whispered, “show me you love one more time, before it’s too late.”

With that, their mouths crashed. Taehyung treated her like a butterfly, impossibly gentle. Even his kisses, they were soft and fleeting. It felt like if he were too forceful, she might disappear into the stillness of the night.

When dawn broke the next morning, the white sheets were tangled at the ends of their feet as their bodies were huddled as one. He woke up first, originally to check on Taerin.

But when he walked out, the ugly scenes of yesterday’s argument flashed in his head. Magazines and cushions were strewn all over the place, as he recalled her hysterical self flinging them in any direction possible.


It was on the very same day, she felt the blood pulsing through her veins as her head throbbed with every passing second. Feeling the empty space on her left still warm from Taehyung’s body heat, she figured he might have went to the bathroom.

She crawled out of bed and as the hard wooden flooring struck her heels, she felt as if she were electrocuted as the currents ran through her body. Steadying herself on the nightstand, she limped to the kitchen, unwilling to turn on any lights in fear of triggering the pain. She reached for the cupboard’s top shelf and pulled out a bottle of white pills.

The pills she took in secrecy, the pills she took in hope of getting better, the pills she would last take.

She fumbled with the cap as she carelessly shook two tablets onto her hands. When she tried to chase them down her parched throat with water, she lost her grip and the glass cup shattered onto the floor, breaking into brittle little shards on impact.

She heard the hurried footsteps of her husband before the light switch in the kitchen was on, and it was as if she fell into the blinding bright light, screaming as she feared leaving her husband.

But nothing escaped her parted lips.


This scene reminded Taehyung of the nightmares he used to have as he tried to recover from the shock. He concluded that the sound of shattering glass would always raise the hairs on the back of his neck as he rushed her to the hospital, almost frantic when he saw the usual rosy complexion of hers turning into a foreign ashen one.

He carried her bridal style down the lift of their apartment, screaming over the speaker of his handphone for the ambulance to come over.

When the sirens of the ambulance drained the deafening silence of the tranquil night, he allowed himself to follow the flow of how things went, as he no longer had the energy to resist anything.


“Daddy, when are we going to see mummy?” Taerin asked, eyes wide with amusement at the bouquet of flowers that seemed to boom before her.

She toyed with the petals of the flowers, feeling its velvety texture, face open and guileless.

“Whenever you’re ready princess” Taehyung called from the inside of his room.

Their room.

He held her little hand in his as they made their way to their mother.


He lay the flowers before the stone and ran his hands over it, brushing the sand and dirt from the engraving. He laid his eyes on the memorial that he was all so familiar with. He memorized everything about the name engraved, and couldn’t forget the two dates positioned below. But most of all, he remembered her.

Oh, Taehyung remembered her so much he could draw a portrait of her based off his memories. He remembered the mole on her cheek that she didn’t like. He remembered the way her crow’s-feet would fan out into a pair of beautiful eyes that he always got lost in. He remembered her hands that felt small in his, fingers notched evenly at every joint. She loved to smile, and everyone she knew was infatuated with her to some degree; she pulled people in like a magnet. It started off like that for him too, until he decided that he wanted to call her, his.

Most of all, he knew she loved him just as much. She loved his spontaneity, and the fact that he was a constant burst of sunshine. She remembered how he wouldn’t mind getting lost while on a vacation and how he got on the first bus that he saw. She loved how his arms were contoured with muscles as the blue veins traced meandering paths down his forearms.

She loved the way he loved, like how one would love the rainbows.


When the sun rose atop their heads, burning down on their itching scalps, they headed back home.

Taehyung knew he had to be strong. He knew better than to be cooped up and be sunk in depressive thoughts. He knew better than to be a coward and be afraid of the situation. And mostly, hoped he didn’t forget how to love.

But he knew, he should lead his life to the best he can. Live his life like he was living for both him, and her. Because no matter where she is, she would still be the one Taehyung would be giddy in love with, and she was still the only one that could and had stolen his heart away.

Because of that, he knew there would be a tear from within. A tear he didn’t dare allow to trickle down his face and a tear on his heart that no tape or glue would mend.

It was a tear from within that he couldn’t shed and a tear from within he couldn’t show.

a/n: i got inspired by a book ive recently read, and im sorry if this is sad and it doesnt fit the happy festive mood that xmas is coming T^T! but nonetheless, i hope yall enjoyed it and thankuu to my skai [ @jkoookies ] ((pun intended)) for reading this once and giving me confidence ilysm <3 also, happy sunday to my readers, its like almost midnight rn so sleep well!!

Solona Amell smirked, grateful to see her old friends after so much time had passed. They were all there: Leliana, the Orlesian bard; Morrigan, the famed Witch of the Wilds; and Alistair, the newly appointed Warden Commander of Ferelden. Even the Antivan Crow, Zevran, although he haunted the shadows. Cullen followed her into the War Room, his hand on her back, only to find the Inquisitor waiting, ready to prepare for battle.

As little as she knew of the problems that plagued Skyhold’s leaders, Sol already felt at home here. She couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

I want to give a huge thank you (and lots of hugs) to the ever amazing @orokay for this gorgeous piece of my warden, Solona Amell. :D This makes me want to pick her story back up. <3333 Commission oro if you can!!