The Other Woman→𝙆𝙏𝙃

[Seventeen; Cakes & Them]

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[Y/N]
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''Ila, you will look good in this! Try this!''

Things are getting better between me and Ila. Because after so long, my twin asked me out on a date, planning a full day just for us—shopping, grabbing lunch, and spending time together like we used to. I was so over the moon that when I got the text, I may or may have not kicked Taehyung out of my room out of pure excitement.

Nothing can come between me and my twin.

Safe to say, Taehyung wasn't exactly happy when I kicked him out, considering we were in the middle of, well, the 'benefits' he was talking about.

It's been two weeks since we agreed on that arrangement. And ever since, we did nothing but find any ways to be on each other's skin. The moment we agreed to this, any pretense of restraint flew right out the window.

Kim Taehyung, the man who loves to drown himself at work, have been clocking out of work on time for the past two weeks. As soon as the clock hits, we are out the office, practically racing our way home. Sometimes, we can't even wait till we get home— he would bend me on his desk when everyone's gone from the office or even start in the backseat of his car, parked in some shadowed corner, where we'd give in before we even make it to the driveway.

He's taken me in almost every corner of the mansion—The kitchen? He had me bent over the counter while breakfast went cold. The hallway? He pinned me against the wall as soon as I walked past, his hands exploring every inch of my body before I could even catch my breath. Even the study room that I once burned didn't escape his intentions; he cleared his desk, spreading me out on it, making sure I wouldn't forget the feeling of his tongue wrenching orgasms out of me. Even the library, where he'd hold me captive, pressing me against shelves of books until I forgot my own name. It's been nothing but a sex marathon with my very husband I despise for the past couple of days. 

The only place he hasn't taken me is his bedroom. Except for the first time we slept together in his bedroom, he now avoids taking me there. I wonder if it's deliberate and he's keeping his bedroom off-limits for a reason I don't know yet. Every night, he comes to my room, or we find each other in nearly every other corner of the house; but his room remains untouched.

Even when Ila called, we were tangled up on my bed, his head in between my thighs.

God damn it, now I am turned on again just thinking about it.

''Y/n, look!'' Ila calls, snapping me out of my daydream. I clench my thighs together at the memory as I sit on the plush couch of the changing room. She's showing me the dress I asked her to try on. ''What are you thinking? You look so red?!'' She laughs.

I gulp.

And just like that,  the familiar pang of guilt wrapping itself around me, tightening its hold.

The sick realisation hitting me. 

What am I even doing? My sister is in love with this man and I am... Tangled up in him in every way possible.

My heart hammers, guilt clawing me all of a sudden, making me feel utterly sick. It's not just a passing pang—it's a weight that sits heavy, pressing down on me, wrapping around my chest until I can barely breathe.

''Y/n? What's wrong?'' My sister walks to me, worry evident in her voice.

I can't breathe.

Fuck, I can't breathe.