Fateful Alliance ∞

ⅤⅠ

JUNGKOOK

Walking down the stairs with Taehyung beside me, I could feel my heart rattling inside my chest. My palms were damp, my throat dry. Each step brought me closer to his family. My family now, too, though I still stumbled over that thought. Would they like me? Would I say something foolish? Would they see through me and decide I wasn't enough?

The dining room came into view, sunlight spilling across a long wooden table. Every seat was filled, every face turned expectantly toward us. My breath hitched.

Eight pairs of eyes.

But instead of cold judgment, I found myself met with smiles, gentle, amused, curious. That alone loosened the iron grip of my nerves. I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Taehyung stepped forward like a steady anchor, introducing each member one by one.

His mother: Kim-Park Min-Young, graceful and warm.

His father: Kim-Park Seo-Joon, with a steady presence and kind smile.

His grandmother: Bae Suzy, eyes sharp yet twinkling with mischief.

His younger brother: Kim Beomgyu, brimming with restless energy.
His uncle: Kim Hyunbin, serious but not unkind.
His aunt: Kim Ye-jin, elegant and quick to grin.

And then there was Taehyung, his quiet gaze flicking back to me every so often, like a tether I didn't know I needed.

We took our seats, and I folded my hands in my lap, reminding myself of the mental rules I had recited in the shower: be polite, smile, offer to help, don't curse.

Taehyung's mother broke the silence with an encouraging smile. "So, Jungkook, yesterday was our first meeting. We'd love to know more about you."

I swallowed, forcing a smile even as my cheeks warmed. "I'm Kim Jungkook, twenty-seven years old. I have an older sister. She's my closest friend."

Father-in-law Seo-Joon leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "And what do you do, Jungkook?"

"I'm an author," I said. The word always filled me with a peculiar mix of pride and vulnerability. Writing was my soul made visible. what if they didn't take me seriously?

"Oh?" Grandmother Suzy's eyes lit up with sudden intrigue. "That's wonderful. What kind of stories do you write?"

Heat crept higher into my cheeks. "Fiction, fantasy, mythology... and romance," I admitted softly.

The table hummed with murmurs of interest. But then Grandmother leaned forward, her smile sly. "You must let us read your books."

Panic darted through me. My novels weren't simple love stories. They carried passion, intimacy, and yes, plenty of smut. The thought of my in-laws poring over such scenes made my ears burn.

"I-uh-" I stammered, struggling to assemble a polite excuse.

Before I could, Beomgyu piped up with all the subtlety of a cymbal crash. "Do your books have smut?"

Every bit of blood in my body rushed to my face. I ducked my head, unable to meet anyone's gaze.

Grandmother, instead of saving me, only made things worse. She leaned back and laughed. "Don't be shy, Jungkook. Romance novels always have at least one chapter of smut. It would be unusual otherwise."

The table erupted into laughter. his mother and aunt giggling, Beomgyu cackling, even Grandmother shaking her shoulders with mirth. Meanwhile, Taehyung, his father, and his uncle exchanged confused looks, clearly left out of the joke.

Then, with disarming innocence, Taehyung tilted his head. "What is smut?"

My soul nearly left my body. "It's nothing!" I blurted, waving my hands.

That only made Grandmother laugh harder. Beomgyu leaned toward her and whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I can't believe you know what smut means."

She raised an unimpressed brow. "Of course I do. I read plenty of romance novels. Don't underestimate your grandmother."

Father still looked perplexed. "But what does it mean?"

"Some things," Aunt Ye-jin said with a knowing smile, "are better left unsaid."

"Not at all," Mother countered, her eyes twinkling as she glanced between Taehyung and me. "He should know. It's important for Taehyung to understand what his husband writes... and desires."

I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. My face must have been crimson, my palms clammy. When Grandmother turned to me again and teased, "Come now, Jungkook. Enlighten your dear husband," I couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I- excuse me!" I stammered, bolting from the table, my hands clamped over my face.

The garden outside was mercifully quiet. I collapsed onto a stone bench, pressing my palms to my burning cheeks, praying the cool air would calm me down.

Footsteps followed soon after. A hand, gentle and warm, landed on my shoulder. "Jungkook?" Taehyung's voice was careful, low. "I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I'll apologize on their behalf."

I shook my head quickly, peeking up at him through my fingers. "No, no, it wasn't that. Your family's lovely. I was just... embarrassed. The word itself is embarrassing."

Relief softened his features, though curiosity lingered. He crouched slightly, meeting my gaze. "Then... would you mind telling me? What does it mean?"

I groaned, looking away, but his eyes held no judgment, only patient interest.

With a sigh, I muttered, "It's... a term for explicit writing. You know, sexual scenes. That's all."

His lips curved into a slow smile. He leaned just a fraction closer, his voice a velvet murmur. "So that's why you were embarrassed? Jungkook, don't be. We're married. We'll... get there someday."

The words hit me like a lightning strike. My blush deepened, but my eyes locked with his, unable to look away. For a heartbeat, the world shrank again. Just his gaze, steady and unreadable, and the warmth rolling off him in waves.

I nodded faintly, my throat too dry to answer.

When we finally returned to the table, laughter and chatter bubbled easily once more. The awkwardness dissolved as if it had never been there. Grandmother launched into stories of her youth, painting vivid pictures that made everyone laugh. Father shared amusing workplace tales, Mother steered conversation toward travels and hobbies, Beomgyu injected his youthful energy into every pause, and Aunt Ye-jin's wit tied everything together with ease.

Somehow, I found myself laughing too, swept up in their rhythm. They didn't treat me like a stranger. They folded me into their world as if I'd always belonged.

And for the first time in years, I sat at a breakfast table surrounded by family... and felt the warmth of it seep into me, soft and startling, like sunlight after a long winter.