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bonvoyagenoona · 3 years

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Kittenfishing | KTH | 03: Purrception

Pairings: Taehyung x Reader

Rating: 18+ / Mature / Explicit

Synopsis: You’ve kept detailed notes. Kim Taehyung moved next door about six months ago. He picks up the mail at night. He likely works in the north part of town because he walks to the blue line station in the morning. He takes his trash out on Mondays and Thursdays. His receipts show that he’s stopped buying bananas from the nearest grocery store because the ones a block farther up the street are 40 cents cheaper. And because he’s just popped up on your dating app, you’ve also learned that he’s a Capricorn, has a pet dog named Tannie, and he loves visiting his family’s farm. Also, he is very hot, and very single, though you knew that first part already just by bumping into him in the hall. You are not regimented about your schedule, or mindful about money, or into families, or hot. But you’re smart. And, like you’ve said, you’ve kept detailed notes. With some luck, and your best friend and tech extraordinaire Yoongi’s help, you will become Kim Taehyung’s perfect girl. And you will catch him.

Genres, Content Warnings, & Themes: Strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex, casual sex, public sex), lying, deception, obsession, oh the ethical dilemmas present in online dating today

Kittenfishing Masterpost

Chapter 03: Purrception

Kim Ari is a well-known supermodel living in Japan. Kim Chae-Yeong is getting her MBA at a prestigious international university. And Kim Yoo-Jung has birthed not just a growing furniture design business but also a sweet new baby boy, a cause for celebration that has brought Chae-Yeong, Ari, and the rest of the entire Kim family together for a party on Sunday.

So many people to keep straight for the occasion, and the next three you have yet to memorize on your list happen to be incredible women that make you look like the disgusting sacks that you are currently lugging to the trash room.

“What about Kim Na-Rae?” Yoongi yawns lazily into your ear.

The yawn is loud enough that your earbud shakes in your ear. You pause in your walk along the hallway to adjust it.

“Easy. She’s an award winning falconer,” you answer quickly, picking up the bag and continuing down the hall.

“If all of these are so easy, then why are you even studying?” Yoongi asks. “And did you have to take Friday off? Do you know how boring our jobs are?”

“Of course I know how boring our jobs are. Why do you think I always come down to the IT center?” you ask, opening the door to the trash room. You heave the bag up and over the metal drawer, and then you slam the drawer shut, listening for the inevitable, dead THUMP! of your trash hitting the heap.

You go to open the metal drawer, but it sticks in its frame.

“And I had to take Friday off because I still have another page of contacts to memorize,” you explain, pulling at the drawer. “Why does his family---” The drawer is really, really stuck. “---have to be---” You plant your foot on the wall for leverage. “---so fucking big??”

“Like his dick?” Yoongi jokes.

The drawer suddenly becomes unstuck and springs open, and you take a few steps back, nearly falling. But you see one earbud fly right into the drawer and start clank!ing down the cute.

You press your finger into your other ear, making sure Yoongi is still there.

“Fuck. I just lost one of my earbuds.”

Yoongi cackles. “Down the drawer?”

“Yeah, down the fucking drawer.”

“Sorry.”

You sigh and hoist the second bag up to the chute and kick that damn drawer shut in annoyance.

“Isn’t that kind of asking a lot, though?” Yoongi asks. “I mean… you’ve only been dating a few weeks. He needs you to know his entire family?”

“Well, no,” you admit. “Actually, he hasn’t even, uh… he hasn’t asked me to go.”

The green RSVP button told you about the event, and Taehyung has yet to make plans with you this weekend. Not hard to put two and two together, though part of you is wondering why he hasn’t asked you. After seeing profiles of his remarkable cousins, you kind of understand why. This family, this entire family, has such illustrious people in it, Taehyung included and near the top of the list. An award-winning multi-instrumentalist, singer, and dancer, not to mention one of the kindest, sweetest, most attractive, and most unassuming people you’ve ever met. When you mull it over a little more, it kind of makes sense why he hasn’t asked you, after all.

“Then why are you so worried?” Yoongi asks. “And, again, why the hell are you studying?”

“Just in case,” you say hopefully. “Regardless. It won’t be a Friday wasted. I have plans.”

Plans that include seeming the part, at the very least. Yoongi’s makeup tutorials have done wonders for you, and they’re going to be supported by a trip to the salon to get that nice, glossy, straight, jet-black signature lob that the Kim girls seem to wear like a uniform. You’ll be getting to know his family eventually. If your resume doesn’t hold up, then you just need to start by looking the part.

“You have plans this weekend?”

You turn around and see Taehyung holding Tannie’s leash in one hand and a bag of Tannie’s poop in the other. Taehyung looks delighted to see you. Tannie always looks delighted either way.

“Hi!” you exclaim sweetly.

“Hello?” Yoongi asks.

“What are you doing home, Tae?” you ask, as Yoongi scoffs and mutters an, “oh god”.

“Just took Tannie out for his usual lunchtime walk.” He raises his hands, drawing your attention back to the items that should have told you exactly what he was doing home.

“Call me later,” Yoongi says quickly, before hanging up.

You sigh warmly, happy to be able to focus on one conversation at a time. “Of course. I was just startled to see you.”

“Me too. But happy, right?” Taehyung asks, laughing nervously.

“Of course,” you repeat, warmer, and slower.

Taehyung takes a step toward you, but then he hesitates. “Uh, I really want to give you a kiss right now, but…” He grimaces as he crinkles the top of Tannie’s bag.

“Right, sorry,” you say, getting out of his way.

You admire the way Taehyung can just open the drawer in the way that he does, arm only slightly flexing, face nearly expressionless. As if he’s opening a drawer in his desk, or his mailbox downstairs.

You walk with Taehyung back to his apartment. He doesn’t even ask about your place anymore. All the excuses you’ve given are no match for the way you have loved him, whispering things that anybody would be lucky to hear. How wanted he is. How good he makes you feel. How you never want him out of your sight.

Taehyung washes up and gives Tannie some water, before offering you a bottle of juice. Some kind of watermelon blend. That month’s coupon book had a 2-for-1 sale.

You smile at each other as you drink, neither of you taking a seat on the couch.

“How’s work?” you ask.

“Same old.” Taehyung raises his eyebrows. “How about you? Are you feeling OK?”

You hold the gulp of juice in your mouth as you screw the cap back onto the bottle. Your arms hover in front of your chest. You’re still in your sweats from last night, though, with family dinner, Taehyung hadn’t seen.

“Oh, yeah, I just… didn’t get much sleep last night,” you answer.

It’s not a lie. None of what you say is. It took four hours to design, fill out, and print the index cards, an hour to make the virtual versions to email to Yoongi to quiz you, and another three hours until you memorized the first stack: the grandparent generation. The second stack took another three hours: the parent generation. The third stack took four because Taehyung and his siblings have so many damn cousins.

“Well, you still look adorable, even when you’re kind of strung out,” Taehyung laughs, walking up to you and fiddling with some of your flyaways.

Ugh. What do you look like right now?? You want to die.

“Thanks,” you squeak, “I think?”

Taehyung threads his hands through the oily roots of your terribly messy bun, but he doesn’t seem to mind, or even notice. And then he brings you to him for a kiss as delightful as the look on his face when he saw you.

“My trashy girl,” Taehyung teases, setting his juice down on his coffee table before straightening and wrapping his other arm around you.

“OK, well,” you joke back, starting to pull away from him.

But he locks around you, making you giggle as he sprinkles kisses on your neck and collar bones.

“I don’t have to be at work for another hour,” he whispers. “Enough time, you think?”

“Never enough time,” you say.

Taehyung sighs and picks you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as his tongue wraps around yours. He carries you into his bedroom, and you smile against his kiss, reveling in the fact that, while you still haven’t memorized all of Taehyung’s third cousins, you have memorized the path to Taehyung’s bedroom just according to the feel of the breeze on your body. Like Ginger Rogers to his Fred Astaire, you know the movements backwards. A quick turn around the edge of the sofa. A bend of the hip to avoid a table. He uses his elbows like Tannie might use his whiskers, extending outward, letting you know that you’re just shy of the outline of his bedroom door frame. And then, the feel of his bouncy bed on your back tells you that you’ve made it.

He lets out a happy, long, relaxed sigh when he can run his hands up and down your sides, bringing your hoodie up and off of you as you sit up and then lie back down again.

He gets to work on your sweatpants, when you start to feel your heartbeat racing.

“Sorry, I’ve been all grungy, and, uh,” you stammer. You’ve usually been so polished around him, save for the similarly unshowered, sweatpantsed times that he caught you off-guard in the beginning.

“Good,” he grunts as he untangles the knot at your waist. The notion, plus his movements, send tingles down your body.

“Good?” you repeat.

“I wanna smell you. Taste you. The natural you,” Taehyung says. “The real you.”

You try to push the impossibility of that out of your mind at this point and focus on Taehyung sliding fabric down your thighs. His hands are always so soft. You know what lotion he uses. Something simple, usually on sale, and always in stock at the store. You slather it onto yourself when you’re at home alone and breathe in the clean scent. Like sea salt and lime. You think of how it only intensifies when he’s sweating, and how much cleaner it smells when he puts it on just after he’s showered. You could get off to the scent alone. You know. You’ve tried.

“God, so good,” Taehyung sighs, as he licks at you, seemingly hungrier for you now than ever before.

He’s probably just in love with the whimsy of it all. A romantic scene if ever there was one, asking for your lover’s musk. You didn’t feel your panties coming down, but you try not to envision the actuality of them crumpled and stained on the floor. You pretend that you’re you, but better.

He licks his fingers and then starts to play with you, circling around your entrance before dipping inside.

When you hiss and buck your hips, he strokes the front of your flesh, watching you intently. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I’ll go slower.”

You reach out a hand to intertwine it with his. You hope that he gets that there’s no apology needed. From him, at least.

“How’s that feel?” Taehyung asks, stroking the front of your wall. “Nice?”

You whimper and nod, gripping his hand tighter to encourage him more. To signal that you don’t want to let him go. Even when you haven’t been able to let him in just yet.

He presses his lips against your flesh, and then he takes your waking clit into his warm, wet mouth, rolling you, squeezing you, and making you turn and twist this way and that with just a flick of his tongue. He smiles at how you move at his command. How willing you are to bend with him. For him.

Watching you makes him so hungry. And he’s grateful that you’re overflowing for him, giving him something to drink down as he works. Why were you embarrassed earlier? He can’t tell the difference; you’ve always been this addictively sweet.

And maybe he is, too. Three fingers tells him you’re ready, and you keep pleading for him, telling him that you want even more.

“How do you want it?” he asks, not even bothering to wipe his mouth, streams of you dragging across your skin as he rises and crawls up your body.

You have no words. You just roll over and reach up for his headboard, pressing your tits against it and resting your chin on top for a moment before looking back at him.

He grins, stripping quickly, and then folding himself into you, broad chest and built torso filling the space between you, hand reaching under and from behind to pet you and help guide himself into you.

When he enters, you moan and send your hips back to him, resting your forehead on the top of the headboard now, whining so gratefully for him.

And then he pumps into you, his signature first long stroke, until his soft, sea salt and lime skin touches yours.

You keen, and he asks, “Yeah?” with a breath sucked in through his teeth. You nod, and he wraps his arms around your waist, as you hold onto the headboard.

One pump. Two. Faster and faster as you start to move in response. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. Equal parts elegant and fascinating. The only crack in the daydream is how what they created was just a facade. Movie magic.

“Harder,” you plead, ironically needing Taehyung to help you forget.

He moans at how badly you need him.

And then his hips work fast against you, your body tossed between the headboard, and the body nearly as stiff as that, sent into a dizzying pleasure that catapults forward, nearly making you slam your head if it weren’t for Taehyung to catch and hold you. He pins your arms to your sides with his embrace and continues to pump into you as he groans and catches that pleasure, too, easing his strokes as you let out whimpers and soft chuckles, sighing softly as you go limp in his arms.

Taehyung kisses your cheek, and you chase his kiss with your own, but he’s too busy pulling out of you and assessing the mess you’ve made.

“Shit, I’m fucking spent,” he sighs, rolling over and lying next to you, reaching out for you and gesturing for you to snuggle with him.

You land that kiss on his cheek, and he chuckles as you nestle into his side.

“Didn’t know that’s how I was gonna be spending my lunch hour,” he laughs. “Good surprise.” But then he turns to you, eyes roving over you with concern. “Not a good surprise to find out that you couldn’t sleep last night.”

You had almost drifted off, but Taehyung calling it out makes you snap awake.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Were you feeling sick?” he asks. “Had a bad dream?”

You stare at the ceiling. “Just had a lot on my mind.” Like Kim Ari, the supermodel, Kim Chae-Yeong, the businesswoman, and Kim Yoo-Jung, the designer and new mother to Byung-Ho.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks, tracing the line of your neck turning into the line of your shoulder, fingers dancing lightly as he goes.

You smile. “No. I was glad to get my mind off of it for a little bit.”

Taehyung watches his fingers glide down the slope of your waist. “Wanna take your mind off of things this weekend with me?”

Your heart starts to race like it had been a moment ago, in the throes of orgasm, with a little bit of panic sprinkled in.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

“You mentioned you had plans?” Taehyung asks first, seemingly a little nervous.

“Not really,” you clarify. Still not a lie. He hadn’t asked you yet. “Maybe getting my hair done or something.”

“Really?” Taehyung asks, momentarily distracted. His eyes flash up to your hair. “I like your hair. Are you coloring it? It’s pretty the way it is?”

You smile. “You called me a trash girl less than an hour ago.”

“Still.”

Taehyung wiggles his nose between your temple and his pillow and presses a kiss there, licking up the sweat that had collected.

“I wanted to pop by last night and invite you to something, but I got home so late,” Taehyung replies.

You nod. He arrived home at 12:21 AM. You liked the symmetry of the time. And you had guessed that he got home after a long conversation about planning the party and helping his mother with the arrangements. Taehyung confirms that by telling you about dinner. Mrs. Kim’s keen eye seems to be celebrated on every event page that their family has online, and she hopes to dazzle just as brilliantly on Sunday.

“We’re having a family get-together,” Taehyung explains. “My cousin had a baby. It’s their Baek-il.”

You grin. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a baby’s 100-day celebration. Thoughts of delicious rice cakes float through your mind. And you realize that you haven’t had lunch yet, either.

“Does that mean you’re going?” Taehyung asks.

You turn to him and furrow your brow. “Huh?”

“Well, you smiled, and then you just kinda fell silent?” he observes. “And I think you drooled a little bit.”

You smirk and wipe your mouth.

“Something else on your mind?” he asks.

“Rice cakes and honey,” you say, and Taehyung presses a kiss onto your forehead.

“Just like this.”

You hold the picture of Kim Ari out to your stylist, who brightens at the beautiful visage.

“Oh, she’s so gorgeous,” they sigh. Their eyes land on you, eyebrows raising just a little. “Um, usually when clients bring in pictures, they expect---”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m no model, I get it,” you mumble. “Can you just cut my hair to look like this?”

The stylist shrugs and leads you to the chair. They unfold the cape and drape it around your shoulders. You always hate this part. Looking at yourself in the mirror, at just your head, the rest of your body hidden, makes you think you look like a rotten potato.

“A side part wouldn’t be advisable for your face shape,” the stylist replies. “Better to---”

“Look, I just need something as close to this style as possible,” you say. You don’t have much time. You still have to get your nails done. “Same cut and color. I won’t leave you a bad review if I don’t look exactly like Kim Ari. And I won’t tip if you keep making suggestions that I didn’t ask for.”

Your phone rings, and though your stylist wouldn’t tell you, they’re happy to get a chance to step away and leave you to answer the call.

When Taehyung’s face pops up, you keep your video off.

“Where are you?” he asks. “I don’t see you.”

“Getting my hair done, like I said,” you remind him.

“Let me see!”

“I haven’t gotten it done yet.”

“C’mon. I haven’t seen you all day, and I miss you.”

You sigh and give into the sweet sentiment, turning your camera on after finding as flattering of an angle as you can.

“Are you sure you want to change your hair?” Taehyung asks. “I like it like that. Especially when you air dry it, and it curls, and---”

“It gets too thick,” you explain, gesturing with your fingers. “Fans out weird.”

“Who’s that?” Taehyung asks, curious about the figure next to you.

Yoongi sips the last of his Slurpee loudly as you angle the phone toward him.

“Oh,” Taehyung replies flatly. “Hi.”

“Hey man,” Yoongi answers, bouncing his head up and down. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, just…” Taehyung shrugs. “Helping get ready.”

“Right, Baek-il,” Yoongi replies. “Congrats.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Taehyung purses his lips, and you bring the camera back to you. “OK, well, I need to go. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Good luck with the preparations,” you tell him. “And let me know if I can bring anything or help out.”

Taehyung smiles generously, blowing a kiss to you. You awkwardly pretend to catch it, and you place it on your cheek.

“Wasn’t where I was sending it,” Taehyung jokes, arching a brow.

“Tae,” you whisper, embarrassed.

He laughs at your expression, a bit nervous but flattered. “OK. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You hang up, and you watch Yoongi stare at you in the mirror as you place your phone back in your pocket, under your cape.

“What?” you ask.

“I kind of agree,” Yoongi replies innocently.

“With what?”

“I like your natural hair.”

“Makes one of us,” you grumble, looking back at the mirror.

Yoongi watches you carefully, deciding whether or not now’s the time to say anything. But with the event happening in about 24 hours, he figures it’s now or never.

“He clearly doesn’t like that I’m here with you,” Yoongi points out.

“C’mon,” you scoff. “I’m sure he has female coworkers.”

“So I’m just your coworker?”

“You know what I mean,” you say softly. “We’re friends. He has friends. I don’t worry about them.”

“Maybe you should,” Yoongi says.

He moves out of the stylist’s way as they return with the mix of jet-black color to paint your tresses with.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

The stylist starts to section your hair, taking note of where the new growth starts, and where your last dye job begins. They thread metal clips through your scalp, a feeling that reminds you of Taehyung’s hands in your hair. That has to mean that you’re doing this right, and that whatever Yoongi offers up as an explanation is just a friend sharing an opinion.

“I mean that he seems to be feeling something deeper for you,” Yoongi points out. “Inviting you to a family event? A child’s event? This early in the game?”

Yoongi’s words have you taking a bit of a pause. Is it early? Haven’t you and Taehyung basically been together forever at this point? All the things you know about him?

“He barely knows you,” Yoongi replies, reading your mind. “He hasn’t even seen the inside of your apartment yet. And he’s still inviting you over. That’s kind of fast.”

The stylist lets out a judgy little “hmph”, quickly avoiding your annoyed gaze and saying something about how they’ll need another pot of color to get through all your hair.

“Could you be a little quieter?” you ask Yoongi pointedly.

“Well, you robbed me of a gossip session yesterday, so I’m having it now,” Yoongi replies, grinning like the cheeky asshole he can be, and that you still love.

“And what’s the big deal about him not coming over yet?” you ask. “He has the same layout. He can just imagine that everything’s flipped, if he’s so curious. But he doesn’t seem to be.”

“Maybe that’s because he doesn’t know about---”

The stylist returns with another pot of color, mixed to the same dull purple that always makes you nervous.

You look up at Yoongi, and you feel the stylist hovering to get more of the story.

“The picture,” Yoongi tells you. “And the key.”

You roll your eyes as the stylist starts to comb through your hair and begin applying the color.

“I’ve never used the key,” you say.

“So why do you still have it?”

The stylist mutters something as they begin to paint down your locks, careful not to make too much of a mess but ensuring full coverage.

“I don’t know,” you reply. Still not a lie. You don’t really know why you still have it. “It’s an aesthetic thing, maybe. Or, y’know. My way of keeping it safe. In case he needs it or something.”

“You have the key because you’re going to use the key,” Yoongi replies. “And you have the board---”

“Yoongi!”

“---because you’re going to continue using the board. I’m just asking if you actually want a relationship where you have a conversation about things first, instead of you studying up and pretending not to know anything.”

The stylist actually visibly reacts with a gasp, and you frown.

“Didn’t exactly ask for this feedback either,” you tell Yoongi.

He grins at you. Mockingly. “Well. It’s a good thing I don’t work for tips.”

The stylist snickers, and you pout at your potato-y reflection in the mirror.

A few hours later, Yoongi’s snacking while watching you get your nails done, Flamin’ Hot Cheeto dust on his fingers, and red SNS powder on yours.

He feeds you a Cheeto, and you scarf it down before he angles his super-sized soda straw into your mouth.

“I’m just worried that they won’t like me,” you admit.

“Why are you worried about that?” Yoongi asks.

“Doesn’t everyone worry about that?” you wonder. “Getting to know people, hoping to fit into their worlds. Isn’t that what this is all about? Softening my edges to make me fit?”

Yoongi slumps down a little in his chair. “Kitt. That’s not what softening your edges was meant to do.”

All this time, you’d been operating under the assumption that you weren’t right somehow. That you needed to fit the mould. It’s been working. You haven’t been able to keep Taehyung off of you the entire time you’ve been officially dating. You’re getting the outcome that you wanted. And Yoongi was the architect. Why is he questioning things now?

“I’ve followed every instruction you’ve given me,” you reply.

“I never told you to keep that key,” he expresses.

You shake your head, and your matronly nail technician yanks your fingers slightly to remind you to keep still. After telling her sorry, you say to Yoongi, “Stop bringing up the key. God, I should’ve never told you about it in the first place.”

“You’re so uncomfortable talking about it. That should tell you something.”

“You created the board in the first place!”

Yoongi shrugs. “I created the small one. Just to draw some pictures. Make you smile. Visualize the good things and put you at ease.” He watches as you chase his straw with your lips, and he holds the drink up higher for you to take another sip. “Kitt, I want to be clear. I never meant for this to change you.”

Your eyes grow wide as you gulp down the drink, and the nail technician sets your hands down on the towel to grab more setting gel from her bottom drawer.

A lump forms in your throat. “I just don’t see why you’re so worried,” you say, fighting it. “I’m fine. This is all working so well.”

Yoongi knows you’re not hearing him. That you tend to measure success on metrics that don’t really matter. That you tend to aim for success in things that don’t really require “success” in that way, anyway. So he goes for something else. Effort.

“You’re about to go spend all of Sunday with their family. Can you keep up the pretense for that long?”

Laziness is written into your code. Yoongi knows more than a little something about code. Yoongi also knows more than a little something about you.

“I can do it,” you say confidently. “In fact, it’s getting easier by the day.”

“It is?” Obviously not liking that answer, Yoongi lowers the drink from your lips and frowns. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not like I’m telling stories or whatever,” you say. “But what you showed me. Being a little more cryptic. Not giving everything away. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be.”

“Kitt.” Yoongi sighs. “That won’t last for long. Trust me. What you’re doing is staying shallow. But we’re way past that now.”

“Five minutes,” the nail technician says, tapping the knuckle of your pinky.

You both smile at her. “Thank you,” you add.

She grins at you. “Your boyfriend is so nice. Feeding you snacks. Letting you drink. Seems like a keeper.”

She stands and wipes her hands clean on her apron before checking in with a client at the front desk.

Yoongi’s still smiling when you turn to him.

“You hear that? I seem like a keeper.”

Able to fight the lump in your throat, but unable to fight the smirk that Yoongi’s pulling from you, you shake your head and sigh. “You are a keeper, Yoongi.”

“So don’t fight me on this.”

He holds the drink back up to you so that you can take a fuller sip.

“I actually want this to work,” Yoongi says. “I’m not trying to sabotage this. Taehyung seems like a really wonderful guy. He’s right to be suspicious of me. He’s right to be suspicious at all.”

You successfully fought off that lump in your throat. But you can’t deny the feeling in the pit of your stomach, like sour acid, and not just from too many Cheetos or soda.

You definitely don’t look like Kim Ari, but you knew that already. Standing in front of the mirror, face made up the best way Yoongi could teach you how over video chat, you try another smile, and you feel like you look like the version of you that would be paraded out in front of your parents’ friends in the middle of dinner. You’re reminded of frilly dresses. Lace socks. Mary Janes. You don’t look bad in the simple peacock blue dress and gray heels that you did pick out. But you still just don’t look like you.

But that’s kind of the point, you remind yourself, as you grasp the bouquet of flowers that you’ve gotten for Mrs. Kim, the bottle of whiskey that you’ve bought Mr. Kim, and the boxes of chocolate for Eon-jin and Jeong-gyu, too. You place them in a tote bag, careful not to smush the flowers.

And then you take one last look at the board.

Well, wall.

Once the classroom-sized rolling whiteboard filled up with more details on the entire family tree, you had to move everything to the long wall of your apartment. Almost every corner is filled with more sticky notes, more index cards, more push pins, and more strings tying them together. The hospital that baby Byung-ho was born in happens to be the same hospital that Taehyung was born in. Byung-ho weighed in at an average 7 pounds, 6 ounces. Taehyung, a little premature, weighed 7 pounds, 2.

“You can do it,” you remind yourself. “It’s getting easier by the day.”

As you pull your rental car onto the highway, you run through more of the facts that you’ve collected. Mr. Kim’s love of badminton. Auntie Binna’s preference for over-spritzing floral perfume. Grandfather Dal’s tendency to tell the same story over and over again. Mrs. Kim’s love of all things blue.

You hope the dress you bought, and the bluebonnet bouquet in the tote next to you, are the right shades.

They certainly seem to match the big 1, 0, and 0 balloons hanging behind a precious, traditionally dressed Byung-ho, sitting on the table, everyone gathered around, chatting, eating, laughing, and snapping pictures as he blinks and stares at the pandemonium.

“You look beautiful,” Taehyung whispers in your ear, as he guides you to the main room of the gigantic farmhouse.

You blink and stare the same way Byung-ho does, heart like a hummingbird in your chest, as people start to turn and notice you.

“Hey, everyone!” Taehyung calls. You start to blush. You hadn’t thought you’d be introduced to everyone at once. “This is Kitt.” He turns to you. “Kitt, this is… well, everyone.”

They grin at you, a sea of almost frantically smiling faces that all kind of look alike.

And then the introductions begin.

“We’ve been waiting for our Taehyungie to finally bring a girl home!”

“You are just so gorgeous! I love that hairstyle!”

“Aren’t you just so sweet?”

“How come you haven’t been to family dinner yet? Taehyungie’s been raving about you!”

“Did Tae-Tae tell you that my favorite color was blue?” Mrs. Kim asks, taking a huge whiff of your bouquet.

You grin and shrug. “Good surprise,” you reply, as Taehyung beams at you, hugging you to his side proudly. Your eyes fall to your tote bag. “Oh!” you exclaim. “And these are for you.” You hand Mr. Kim his bottle of whiskey, and Eon-jin and Jeong-gyu their chocolates.

“My favorite!” Mr. Kim cheers. “Thanks! Wow. We need to break this open now. Let me get the guys.”

“Not the whole bottle!” Mrs. Kim calls out after her husband, who shoos her off.

“Thanks,” Jeong-gyu says shyly, holding up his chocolates before scampering off to join his same-aged cousins.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eon-jin replies, a little flatter, “but I’m kind of on a diet right now.”

“A diet?” you ask.

“Yeah, what are you, a parrot?” Eon-jin asks.

You blush even deeper, and Taehyung shakes his head. “Eonnie, c’mon,” he replies.

She shrugs and smiles brightly at her brother. “What? She’s gonna have to be open to a little ribbing if she’s going to be part of this family.” She eyes your midsection. “Speaking of ribbing.” And then she smirks as she slinks off to join more family members, holding up the chocolates and looking back at you before laughing along with them.

Taehyung turns to you. “Don’t mind her,” he tells you. “She’s kind of going through, like, a thing right now.”

“I don’t think she is,” you mutter, the rage starting to replace the embarrassment.

Taehyung smirks. “Perceptive.” And then he grabs your hand. “That’s what you really need to be to be able to join this family.”

If only Taehyung knew. It’s a good thing you have that in spades.

You smile shyly, and Taehyung leads you over to Eon-jin’s group to introduce you.

When Auntie Binna wraps her arms around you, you already know to hold your breath. “You’re such a plump little thing!” she coos, pinching at your more wobbly bits. “So glad that you’re here. All of the kids are so frail and weak.”

“C’mon, Eomma,” Ari sighs.

You’re astounded by Auntie Binna’s disdain for Ari, given that her daughter’s face is plastered all over magazines around the world.

“It’s true!” Auntie Binna exclaims. “Real women have curves.” She pats her own belly three times and raises her eyebrows. “I would know.”

“I think all people who call themselves women are real women,” you say simply, unable to keep it from slipping through.

Eon-jin smirks.

“Very true,” Ari replies, grinning at you.

Auntie Binna scowls at you, before smiling brightly. “And progressive, too! We’ve got another educated one in our midst.” She turns to Chae-Yeong at the end of the table and calls her over. “Come meet Kitt!”

Chae-Yeong stands from her seat and heads toward you, her polished business smile matching the ones you see every day at work.

She extends her hand.

“Chae-Yeong,” you reply warmly. “Nice to meet you.”

She startles and takes a step back, making Taehyung, and the rest of the group, exchange weird glances.

“I work for Bang Si-hyuk,” you offer, hoping that will suffice.

Her eyes widen. “Ah, yes!” she exclaims. She leans into you. “So… you’ve heard of me?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, and technically truthfully.

“Nice,” Chae-Yeong whispers to herself. She takes a look at your nails. “Love that red!”

“And love that lob,” Ari replies, leaning into you and smiling.

Baby Byung-ho seems to love the lob, too, as he grabs your neat, straight locks and tugs a little, giggling happily.

“Happy Baek-il, baby Byung-ho,” you whisper to him, bouncing him in your arms.

“Thank you for this thoughtful gift,” Yoo-Jung sighs, holding your card.

The two of you watch as Taehyung takes a shot of whiskey with his brother, cousins, uncles, and father at the far end of the table. Taehyung winces and can’t finish the shot, and the others tease him mercilessly.

“Thanks for letting me join in,” you say, playing with Byung-ho’s tiny fist. He grabs your index finger, and you wave it around, making him laugh.

“Y’know, you’re such a natural,” Yoo-Jung replies, beaming at you with Taehyung’s smile.

You cringe at the term.

“Byung-ho’s an easy baby to entertain,” you reply.

“No, I mean with Tae.”

You turn to face Yoo-Jung head on, and she grins at your surprise.

“He’s always found interesting girls, nice girls, fun girls, y’know,” she goes on, “but never anyone with substance.”

“Substance?” you ask.

“What are you, a parrot?” Yoo-Jung jokes.

Your lips curl into a polite smile.

“Yes, substance,” she says encouragingly. “Someone with kindness. Someone who’s not afraid to open up and be vulnerable.”

“And how do you know that’s what I’m doing?” you ask, looking down at baby Byung-ho, who has spit bubbles at his lips.

“I mean… you’re here,” Yoo-Jung replies. “Most of the other girls wouldn’t even spend the night with him.” She flushes and adds, “Sorry if that’s weird. He just… tells me things.”

You soften and nod. “No, it’s OK. I knew that.” A smile finds its way to your face. “And I’m glad he has had someone to talk to about it. How he hates being the bad guy.”

“He’s never, ever the bad guy,” Yoo-Jung emphasizes, grinning at you.

You smile back.

She’s absolutely right.

Another couple of laps, and you find yourself listening to Grandfather Dal spinning a yarn of his own.

“Back in my day, couples didn’t live together until they got married,” he says.

“Oh, well, we don’t actually live together,” Taehyung replies. “We’re just neighbors.” He looks at you and grins. “I haven’t even seen her apartment.”

“Ah, that’s good,” Grandfather Dal nods, and you smile appreciatively for his unanticipated assist. “A man shouldn’t be alone with a woman in her dwelling until they get married.”

“Lots of talk about marriage,” you observe.

“Well, marriage is the ultimate goal of this union, isn’t it?” he asks, pointing a finger at the two of you.

“Of course it is,” Taehyung replies, glancing at you. “We’ve… well, we’ve kinda talked about it.”

You smile tensely.

“We both agree that we want this to go somewhere long-term,” Taehyung carries on, smiling back at his grandfather.

“You met on the computer, though, didn’t you?” Grandfather Dal asks. He mimes typing. “Writing letters of some sort?”

“Essentially,” you agree.

“Well, that’s not much different than back in my day, I suppose,” Grandfather Dal submits. “We just used to send our letters through the mail. The real mail, not the e-mail!”

He chuckles at his joke, and you and Taehyung share a fond look.

“Did I tell you that I used to write your late grandmother love letters?” Grandfather Dal asks Taehyung.

“Yes,” he answers.

“I did?” Grandfather Dal asks.

“You even showed me a few of them. They were beautiful.” Taehyung searches his memory and brightens when he’s found a gem. “Being apart from you is like losing a sense. Losing a limb. Losing a part of me that I need to survive. Being apart from you is like losing myself. I never want to be apart from you this long, ever again.”

Grandfather Dal sighs happily. “You shouldn’t have quoted that line.” He looks at you. “Now you can’t use it on her.”

You chuckle, and Grandfather Dal nods.

“You kind of remind me of her, y’know?”

Your lungs start to stutter, and your heart feels like it’s being squeezed slightly.

“So kind and easy,” Grandfather Dal explains. “A seamless fit. Right into my family. RIght into my home. And right into my heart.”

He taps his chest, and you feel like you’ll combust.

“Then again, back in my day, couples didn’t live together until they got married,” he says. “You two thinkin’ about getting married?”

As Taehyung runs through the conversation again, you smile tightly and wonder.

Can you keep this up?

The question hurts to think about, but the fresh air is helping. You take in the acres of land that the Kims have put their stamp on. The stables. The crops. The hills in the distance. So much beauty. Yet it feels so empty.

“It’s a lot, right?”

You turn and see Eon-jin leaning by the back door, taking a drag of her cigarette.

“Uh…”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re all adults here.”

“Are we?” you ask.

Eon-jin widens her eyes and flaps her wings. “Squaaawk! ‘Are we’?”

You start to head back inside, but she laughs and places her hand on your chest to keep you from leaving.

“Relax. I’m kidding.”

You stare at her and start thinking of all the ways you could shut her up. A punch would be fun. It’s been a while since you’ve punched anybody. You wonder if that guy from the train station still has his post-Clue shiv.

“Look, I’m just being protective,” Eon-jin says.

She offers the cigarette to you, but you shake your head. You’ve had enough of the clouds of smoke that you have to walk through at the end of every work day.

Eon-jin shrugs and leans back against the wall.

“You’ve no doubt heard about Taehyung’s unlucky streak with women, right?”

You nod. “Sure. I wouldn’t call it that, though.”

“What would you call it?” Eon-jin’s eyes rove over you like Taehyung’s do, but without the extended kindness or interest.

“I’d call it dating in the trash heap that we call our city,” you reply.

“Mmm. So what does that make you?”

You roll your eyes.

“You wanna test me? Fine. Screen away. Ask your clever little questions. Make your clever little quips. Call me trash. But if the sole aspect of living there makes you trash, then what does that make Tae?”

Eon-jin grins. “A spark. I like that. The others didn’t have that.”

“Oh?” you ask. “And how do you know?”

She giggles. “I have his profile login.”

You freeze in place. “You… you what?”

“I have his profile login. I saw your profile.”

She throws her cigarette into the ground and stomps it out.

“Taehyung didn’t know shit about dating apps,” Eon-jin explains, “so I helped him make his profile. He talked, and I typed. I carefully curated those pictures. And I saw that he matched with you. Zero miles away. Months into living in that apartment. Months after being neighbors with you.”

She narrows her eyes and stares you down.

“You just joined a few weeks ago?”

“Months,” you parrot, to her chagrin.

But then Eon-jin smirks. “Technically,” she replies. “In fact, I noticed that about all your answers. Very… technical.”

You fold your arms. “Go ahead. Say what you want.”

“Nothing to say,” Eon-jin replies. “Yet.” She glares at you. “But believe me. I call things how I see them. And if I ever have anything to say, I’ll share it.”

“Good. I’ll be glad to hear it.”

You march back into the house.

You successfully memorized the entire family tree.

You didn’t know it’d be working in concert against you.

“You were a hit tonight,” Taehyung tells you.

“Sure was.” You smile at him. “Glad I could collect my reward on the same day.”

Taehyung watches you fondly as he lets you wander his old room. It has been updated and turned into a guest room, but his parents have kept accolades and trophies on the walls and shelves. His college degree. His solo and ensemble plaques are lined up neatly on the wall, boasting perfect scores for ten years straight. His soccer jersey is framed and hanging on the wall.

“Number 69,” you smirk. “Noice.”

Taehyung laughs. “Hell yeah.” He wraps his arms around your waist from behind you and presses a kiss onto your shoulder. “I should show you how good I am.”

“Mmhmm.”

You wrestle him off playfully and continue wandering. More factoids to collect. More details to sprinkle into your conversations.

“Black and white movies?” you ask, perusing his old DVD collection.

Taehyung sits on his bed and shrugs. “I like classics. They just seem more honest somehow.”

You nod and steer clear of those DVDs.

You find an old yearbook.

“Ooh, what’s this?” you tease, sitting on the bed with him and fighting him off as he desperately tries to keep you from finding his picture.

A dweeby looking teen, Taehyung smiles hopelessly at the camera, his boxy grin unsure of exactly where to look. His hair is a little greasy, which may explain the kindness he extends to you on a regular basis. And his face is full of pimples, which you know plenty about. But his eyes are still so genuine and kind, and you can’t help but smile happily back at that picture.

When you look back up at Taehyung, he’s grinning, so touched that you genuinely smiled back.

“Are you still friends with anyone you went to high school with?” you ask.

“No,” he replies. “Everything kinda fell away.” He purses his lips and looks at you carefully. “What about you?”

“Nah,” you say. You hold up the yearbook, palming it and raising it with no effort. It might as well be the meeting minutes from one of Si-hyuk’s meetings. “My school was way bigger than yours.”

Taehyung takes the yearbook from your hand before it can do anymore damage.

“Did you go to school with Yoongi?” Taehyung asks.

You soften. “No, Tae,” you say quietly. “We’re just friends from work.”

Taehyung nods, but he doesn’t seem convinced.

“He was the one who convinced me to start a profile, actually,” you say encouragingly. “He helped me through some of the steps.” You smile. “He told me that he really wants this to work.” Nevermind that it was a warning, you think.

Taehyung brightens. “Eon-jin did the same thing,” he replies. “Did I ever tell you that?”

“No,” you say honestly.

Taehyung smiles and pulls you in. “Well, if I had met you back then, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“Predicament?” you ask.

“Are you a parrot?” Taehyung laughs, and you nudge him in the ribs. “Situation. Agreement.”

“Relationship?” you ask hopefully.

Taehyung smiles and nods. “Yes. Relationship.”

You hadn’t talked about it. Not in any official capacity. And you giving him the room means so much more than you’ll ever know.

“Anyway,” Taehyung goes on, “if I had met you in high school, I would have asked you to marry me on the same day as graduation.”

“Really?” you ask, laughing.

“Absolutely,” Taehyung replies. “We would’ve grown up together. Known each other.” He smiles. “I would’ve seen your room by then.”

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t we presumptive?”

Taehyung takes your hands in his. “And we would’ve been inseparable. Like each other’s limbs.”

You take a deep breath. And Taehyung knows it’s because you’re finding it hard to breathe.

“Sorry,” he says, weakening his grip. “I tend to get carried away.”

You wish you could replay for him all the fanciful conversations and situations you’d had with him, too. Especially the one where he kissed you goodbye in the morning, instead of settling for kissing your door at night.

“I do, too,” you say. Truthfully honestly.

He smiles and kisses you, and you kiss him back in earnest. Probably the most earnest you’ve been with him so far.

“What else would we have done if we met in high school?” you giggle, as his hand runs down your leg.

“Well,” he replies, nibbling on your neck, “we would’ve gone on dates. Milkshakes with two straws.”

“Milkshakes with one,” you correct.

He pulls one of your heels off your foot and lets it fall to the floor.

“Intimate,” he notes. “You would’ve come to my concerts and games. Cheered me on.”

“And you would’ve joined me for my weekly movie nights,” you add.

“If I could bring those DVDs.”

“Sure.”

You were so busy reveling in your other leg being thoroughly teased that when you hear the other shoe, you startle a bit. You didn’t know it was about to drop.

“We would’ve never needed these profiles,” he repeats. “Never needed these tests or dates with other people. We would’ve just talked it out. Made up our own inside jokes. Made up our own language.”

He pulls you into a kiss.

“Limbs,” he tells you.

“Limbs,” you parrot back.

He pulls you into another kiss, and you feel his hands reaching behind you for your dress’s zipper. As he drags it down, you make quick work of his buttons, freeing him from his shirt, and opening his fly.

You lie back on his bed, and he pulls the dress down and off of you, letting it crumple next to your heels. His jeans join them, and then his shirt, and then his boxers, as you wriggle out of the blue lace panties and matching bra that you had bought. The dress may have been for Mrs. Kim, but these were for Taehyung’s eyes only.

“Wait,” he whispers, bringing your bra strap up and onto your shoulder again. “Keep this on for a sec.”

You smile. “God knows I need the support,” you reply. “Every time you fuck me, I feel like these are going to bounce right off.”

He laughs. “I can go slower. Easier.”

You pull him into a kiss of your own, biting his bottom lip and pulling it away from his teeth before letting it rebound back.

He stares at you with fire in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” you whisper.

He growls and starts to prep you, hand pulling your panties all the way off before his fingers work at you, warming you up. He’s getting faster at it as he gets to know you. You wonder how he catalogs your little factoids. What system he uses to tie everything together.

“Already wet,” he mutters with fascination.

“Because it’s you,” you whisper.

He grunts and sits up.

“C’mere. Want you to sit on my cock.”

You straddle him, and you slide so easily down him that it’s almost as if you no longer need any additional prep than just seeing him. The way you fit around him, pussy clenching as you rise and fall. The way your tits look in that bra, and how he just has to nestle into your bosom, playing with the fabric and pulling them down, alternately sucking at your nipples. When he bites down, you’d scream, if it weren’t for the crowd of people downstairs. Nearly 100 people for 100 days.

“Play fair,” you gasp, grabbing his hair and eyeing him warningly.

“You,” he chuckles, as he grabs your ass in response. “Wearing this bra like you didn’t know what it would do to me.”

You let out a cry when he starts to separate your cheeks, a finger teasing entrancingly behind you. “God,” he sighs. “Prepped. Shaved. Fuck.” And then his hand slots into the crevice, stimulating you there, while the other hand comes to your front, never ignoring your most precious source of sensations.

“Fuck,” you echo with each collision, “fuck, fuck”.

He mumbles against your breasts, a mix of whines and whimpers, words failing him at how good you feel.

When you come, you clench even tighter around him, making him start to shudder. His hands start to slack, and you know you’ve got him close.

But then he lifts you up and places you down on the mattress, freeing you of your bra and tossing it to the side.

“I thought you liked it,” you tease, panting.

“I do,” he moans, kissing up your body. “I like this better. Give me one more before we have to leave.”

He waits for you to catch your breath, nestling between your breasts for a moment before straightening, kissing you on his way up, and then sliding into you again, slowly inching forward, and then thrusting back, your beautiful cunt making him dizzier the more time he spends inside of it. His torso starts to sway as you work against him, meeting each pump with a pump of your own, skin clapping, and then slapping, the only sound louder the crowd laughing below you.

“His lips try to find a hold of yours, and when your lips finally do meet, twisting and pulling, the skin there nearly chapped, tongues nearly wagging and hanging dry, you resort to biting instead, nibbles that bring the wetness you crave.

He hits a particularly strong stroke, and you both whine, heads nearly knocking together as you look down to witness it. The sight of him slowly pulling out of you, and then slamming back in, makes you both shiver.

“God, it’s so good,” he whispers, reaching for your cheek, his thumb running over the apple, fingers pinching a little. “You ever have it like this?”

“No,” you admit.

“M-me neither,” he tells you. “So different.”

You know what he means. It’s different because it isn’t just about the way fucking him makes the room spin, the gold of his trophies mixing with the gray blur of his DVDs, or your heels, or his hair against his white walls. It’s different because it isn’t just about the way your body shakes, sweat pouring into his sheets when you come time and time again. It’s different because it isn’t just about the way his incredibly strong frame somehow always makes you feel safe enough to lose complete control.

It’s about the way he watches you. His eyes make you feel safe in a different way than his body does. Like, despite all the pretense, he sees you. Like, despite what he knows for sure about you, he’ll care just as much about the stuff that he doesn’t. Like you could confess now, and it wouldn’t matter.

You plunge into another blanket of warm passion, heat rising from your twisted core to your frazzled mind, hoping that whatever you’re mumbling isn’t that confession just yet.

“You come so good for me,” he whines.

“Made for you,” you agree, as you fall apart, your words starting to hold more than just the glimmer of truth.

You shut your mouth to keep from saying more, but Taehyung is drawing it out of you with each movement. Each stroke. Each caress. Each low whisper in awe at how your body feels. How your mind works.

For instance, how you’re rolling over again, ass pressed against his chest as he lowers himself to kiss and fondle you there.

“Wait,” you sigh, reaching back for him.

“Let me taste,” he pleads, and your heart nearly thumps out of your chest.

His tongue swipes you there, making you buck forward and gasp. He reigns you in, and his tongue swirls so mesmerizingly. One hand palms your ass. The other reaches in front.

And after a tickling orgasm inches up your spine, he slaps you playfully, making you chuckle as he lines up to slide into you. You had no idea you were sexually sensitive there, and now you’re buzzing not just with pleasure, but with the thought of all the things you’ll want to try next. You can’t believe all the things that Taehyung can show you without even knowing your real name.

You’d already come for him so many times, but Taehyung’s voice is already lulling you into the next explosion. “Arch back for me. Turn like this. Wanna see you.”

You do, and you twist, the heat at your flesh swirling up your sides, permeating through your rib cage, raising sweat and goosebumps on the back of your neck. Taehyung holds you in front of him, hand running up your corkscrewed body, fingers grazing your skin until he finds your right breast and latches on. He pumps methodically into you, his own back arching away, your two bodies forming a wide V against each other.

“With you bent like that,” he pants. “Gonna… shit, I don’t think I can last.”

“Come for me,” you sigh, reaching for his forearm and grasping tightly, a lifeline of cord and muscle to keep you afloat. “Want it.”

“Inside? Again?” he asks desperately.

You nod, and he grunts excitedly, pumping faster, but shorter, edging his crown deeper and deeper into you.

You toss your hair to the side and look back at him. His wild smile tells you that this is exactly what he wanted. To see you in all your warped glory, the lines you’re forming like those of a dancer’s, an elegant and beautiful celebration of the human form.

When you come this time, you wonder if you look more like a shell of a human, threatening to break open and show that there’s nothing inside.

Taehyung chokes down the cry that threatens to give you both away. There’s no lock on the door. Anyone could come in at any time. A concept you’re not very used to.

“Come for me,” you coo, almost pleading. You need to get out of there. You need to get home.

“Gonna,” Taehyung cries, pained. Tense. “Fuck, I’m gonna come so hard.”

You dig your nails into his skin, and he can’t keep the yelp at bay. He moves even faster and more precisely, waking your clit again with his hand and making you shiver.

“Come with me,” Taehyung whispers, though you sense that you’re too overstimulated to be able to do as he says this time.

“Want it for you,” you plead, your hand leaving his arm and grasping the hand working at your sticky flesh.

“Mmm, but you clench so good when you do,” he reasons, his other hand starting to grope your left breast.

Your collarbones meet the mattress, though you work hard to keep level for him through the shivers that he’s sending you. And then, suddenly, something snaps, and your body falls apart. There is no you and Taehyung anymore. There are just parts. Just limbs. Limbs starting to wind together and pair off. Limbs being peppered with soft kisses and little love bites of appreciation, and fascination, and warmth. Limbs softly landing on the sheets, muscles spent and aching in the best way.

You watch as Taehyung rolls you over and finds his favorite spot, nestled on top of you, right ear pressed against your heart. He smiles when he hears how fast it’s beating, and grins when comparing it to how slowly his cum is leaking out of your tight pussy. You both sway your hips to revel in the bath a little, Taehyung’s strong hand stroking your thigh, still tight from trying to stay perfect for him, and shaking from the fatigue.

Sensing a break in the illusion, you start to rise from the bed.

He turns his head, resting his chin a few inches above your navel. The mix of his dilated pupils and his tired eyes show you how vulnerable he really is with you. He sighs and strokes your arms.

“Wait,” Taehyung replies. “Just… lie here with me.”

You lie back down and stroke his hair, fingers getting stuck in the knots that his sweat has helped to create.

“Never had it like that,” you reassure him. “Not gonna go anywhere soon. If you still want me around.”

Taehyung chuckles and closes his eyes, resettling his temple just under your chin, ear right over your heart. “If I still want you around?” he asks, furrowing his brow a little.

Your breath catches on your ribs when you hear him parrot you for a change. And then you realize that talking like that results in such incredulity. Here you are. Mere months into this thing. Already so eager to transform yourself into something a little more familiar, just to ensure that today is a success. Spending the day at his parents’ house. Meeting almost all of his closest family members. Dodging jabs like a pro. Winning people over with kindness. Patiently nodding and smiling when questions of marriage are posed to you, as if they aren’t some threat. Lying here, after just having fucked so intimately in his childhood bedroom. Choosing to stay when he asks. And you’re still bandying about words like “if”.

“Play fair,” Taehyung remembers you saying, his voice drowsily dripping out of him. “I’ll tell you what’s unfair,” he adds, his hands still delicately tracing your glowing body. “You’ve seen two of my rooms, and I still haven’t seen one of yours.”

As you drive back, later that night, Taehyung asleep in your rental car’s passenger seat instead of on his usual train home, you catch a glimpse of your frowning, bloated, potato-y face in the mirror, ill-framed by the haircut that you should have never gotten in the first place.

#bts fanfiction #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you #taehyung fluff #bts smut #kim taehyung #taehyung angst

130 notes · View notes

joontier · 4 years

Text

akin ka na lang (muli.) | drabble

translation: be mine (again.)

synopsis: Dr. Kim Taehyung, locally known for his successful cardio-thoracic surgeries. One thing he isn’t known for though, is that he’s your two-timing ex who’s come to visit you in the new hospital you work at.

pairings: taehyung x reader

rating: R (18+)

au: doctors!au; exes!au | genre: smut, slight angst, mentions of infidelity

warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation

word count: 2.2k

request: by @taemaknae “silakbo track feat. taehyung + doctor!au (because we need more doctor aus hehehe” SORRY IT TOOK A WHILE BABE!! but here ya gooo! I hope u enjoy it luv hehehhehe

g/n: this is part of The Paraluman Playlist - a drabble game we’re holding for the whole month of August!!! Send in your requests lovelies;; ((why do i get the feeling that this could be a good prologue too ajsdfhoaiwjef)) also,,, this might be a part of a fic crossover with one im working on right now with jk wOOPS

navi. | m.list

“And that concludes the reports for this month’s cardiac surgery reports.”

Ending your presentation with one last click of your pointer, you turn to your fellow doctors, resisting the strong urge to roll your eyes. Some of the seniors are already asleep, while those who are a closer to your age are obviously bored to the bone.

You’re seriously considering if you want to even bother asking the audience if they have any further questions when no one was listening in the first place anyways. Well, maybe except for the chairman who had been all ears the whole time.

Meetings like these are just a major waste of time – time you could have used to sleep your fatigue away after having completed a five-hour open heart surgery last night. If it only weren’t for the hospital’s board of directors that implemented this scheme.

The Ministry of Health and Welfare had only encouraged all hospitals to hold conferences like this to support medical-related research, but The Woocheon Group, after having been praised by the ministry itself for pioneering experimental medicine and clinical trials, upped its game, scheduling these quarterly conferences to monthly ones.

This plan would have sounded engaging to most third parties, but to those who were chosen to create reports, such as yourself, do not find these meetings most pleasant. After all, these month-end reports will also be uploaded to Woocheon’s online journals. Not that these doctors would even read any of those even if published both online or in paper. Unless of absolute necessity as reference, of course.

Your eyes scan over the audience consisting of at least forty doctors until you lock eyes with the one and only Kim Taehyung - infamous for his recently successful cardio-thoracic surgery on a twenty-two year old athlete back at Daegu Medical Center. Unfortunately for you, he’s also the same man who cheated on you for another colleague a few years back.

He was the reason you left DMC in the first place, unable to continue your career back at the center with such an unhealthy, hate-conducive environment. Obviously, you knew having to work with a cheater and having to face him for at least six days a week wasn’t going to do you any good. Hence, your moving to Seoul to officially pursue your fellowship at Woocheon Medical City. What you never expected though, was Taehyung coming all the way from Daegu to sit in with Woocheon’s internal conferences.

For what? Why was he here? What reason does he have to suddenly show up like this?

Whatever his business here was absolutely none of yours, and you promised yourself you were going to be the last person to concern yourself with such.

“Any further questions?”

You see Taehyung’s hand raise hesitantly, but retracts it quickly as another raises his hand. As you address the inquiry, you still feel Taehyung’s gaze locked on yours. Nobody dares to ask another question, not wanting to prolong the useless conference any longer. Thankfully, the hospital’s chairman ends the meeting shortly after that.

As you pack your things up while the rest of the crowd files out of the room, you feel someone approach you. In fact, you feel two - with both of the presences extremely familiar. When you look up from your desk, you see Taehyung and Chairman Jung Hoseok nearing the podium you stood behind from.

Taehyung lets the chairman approach you first. Good, at least the man still has a little bit of dignity left in him. “Dr. _______, great presentation today,” Hoseok applauds, “You are a blessing to this hospital,” the chairman adds, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“All in a day’s work, Chairman Jung,” you give the man a warm smile. Taehyung notices the small gesture and diverts his gaze quickly, as if he was caught watching something private. You smile inwardly, wanting to drop as many hints as possible to let the blonde-haired man he isn't welcome here.

The chairman finally takes notice of his presence as he turns around, much to your dismay. “Ah! Dr. Kim Taehyung! I wasn’t informed of your arrival… anyways, welcome to The Woocheon Medical City and may I introduce to you one of our best cardiology consultants here…”

“Dr. __________, of course.” A wide smile forms on Taehyung’s lips, reaching out his hand for a handshake. You hesitate for a split-second - torn between not wanting to be within arm’s reach of your traitorous ex-boyfriend, or maintaining your usual professional demeanor. Maybe it’s best for you to go with the latter, and pretend you two are meeting for the first time.

“We were colleagues back in Daegu Medical Center.”

Or maybe not.

Hoseok’s secretary comes over just in time, informing him of a friend who wishes to meet him outside as well as the rest of the day’s schedule. “Oh, guess I’ll have to meet that one then,” Hoseok says, turning to the both of you. “Well, I’ll have to leave you both for a moment. I’ll see you both around.” With a short wave, the chairman leaves the two of you to “catch up”.

“_________. Can we talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Dr. Kim. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have plenty of things to do.” Deciding not to meet his eyes, you scan the room, sending a silent plea to the last doctor who was getting ready to leave, wishing that he won’t leave you alone with this man.

Taehyung blocks your sight with his body. Clenching your jaw, you tilt your head at him, waiting on what he has to say now. “Come back to me, please…” A scoff escapes your lips as you roll your eyes at Taehyung.

“I’d even beg on my knees, _______. I’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

“You on your knees?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I am a changed man.”

“Fuck you, Kim Taehyung.”

“By all means, ________, please.” Rolling your eyes at your two-timing ex, you continue packing up, making sure you won't forget anything else on the desk. Funny how he can even extract innuendos from your display of hatred. At this point, Taehyung had already rounded the table and is now standing beside you.

You figure he’s fiddling with the projector (for all you care), that is, until you feel his warm breath fanning against your nape. His close proximity instantly gives you a chill and before you can turn to face him, he already has you trapped between his body and the podium.

Taehyung can't hide the smirk that graces his lips when he sees you gulp. Fueled by your reaction, he proceeds to reach for the clicker by the opposite end of the desk, bending you a little bit forward, all the while pressing his erection against your ass.

When he feels you hold your breath in, it only spurs him on, slowly grinding against you. “T-Tae…” you whisper out brokenly, weakly pushing away his firm hold on your waist. “You’re not…” All coherent thoughts get drained from your head when he takes your breasts in his hands, kneading them gently through your shirt, “...s-supposed to do….”

The door opens all of a sudden and the janitor enters, holding a plastic roll in his hands. Taehyung abruptly takes his hands off you, placing them inside his pockets instead. Thankfully, the janitor only takes notice of you and Taehyung’s presence after checking the trash bin by the last row and not when the latter had his hands all over you. “Oh, sorry Doc! I thought everybody had left already. I’ll just come back later.” Bowing once in your direction, he leaves quickly just as he had arrived.

As you turn around to confront Taehyung about his brazen behavior, he’s already there, suddenly connecting his lips with yours. Nearly loosing your footing at the unexpected action, Taehyung instinctively places his hands on your back, pushing you further towards him. You place your palms against his chest, not wanting to get scandalized by making out with a guest. “Taehyung…”

The blonde-haired man pulls away from the kiss, only to attach his lips on that certain spot on your neck that ultimately gets you weak in the knees. ‘Does he remember?’ You think, mind getting hazy over the feeling of his pliant mouth on your skin after all these years. Then again, your mind betrays you with the vivid image of him fucking your friend in your very room – inside the same apartment you shared with that friend he cheated on you with.

Your judgment gets clouded once more as he fumbles with your shirt, unbuttoning the first one – enough to leave a hickey just above the valley of your breast. Taking your bottom lip between your teeth to hold in the moan the threatens to escape your mouth, your fist tightens around the fabric of his collar.

Sliding the swiveling chair from underneath, Taehyung pushes you down onto the cushion of the seat. As he kneels to the ground, your heart beats rapidly in your chest, the anticipation causing to form a few beads of sweat by your hairline. Pleasure shoots through your core as he hikes your skirt up, rubbing his hands all over your thighs.

Having him touch you like this after so many years ignited that fire inside you once more, the almost foreign feeling ultimately driving you close to madness.

Fuck, you missed this. Not him. Not Taehyung. Whatever thing this was with Taehyung that was so deliriously enticing: this magnetizing aura that drew everyone to him without him having to even try. Unfortunately for you, it had also drawn unwanted attention from perpetually thirsty women. You missed these feverish kisses, featherlight touches that sent electricity pulsing through your veins.

You repeat the phrase in your head like a fervent prayer. You miss the idea of this Taehyung, the Taehyung that ravished you on a regular basis, like you were the irresistible flame to the metaphorical moth that was him.

“Tell me to stop, baby, and I will,” Taehyung rasps, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“No panties? Still my naughty little slut I see,” Taehyung remarks, as he sees your naked core. It’s shameful how you’re embarrassingly wet within a short period of time, but you no longer put much thought on it, especially with a handsome man like Taehyung on his knees for you.

With dilated pupils, Taehyung looks up and you knew you had both reminisced the time this same scenario happened in his office at DMC. The infamous surgeon draws you out of your reverie as he plants kisses along the expanse of your thigh.

Urgently wanting to fully express his intentions, Taehyung wastes no time, bunching up your skirt by your hips and diving in to flatten his tongue against your wet core. You gasp at the contact and you practically feel him smile at your responsiveness.

Taehyung starts with a slow pace, letting his tongue swirl all over your cunt. “Oh!” you breath out when he flicks your nether bud with his tongue. Taehyung keeps your legs apart with left hand while he dips a finger between your folds with the other. As you shudder at the sensation, Taehyung continues his ministrations, pushing his finger in, reveling in the way your walls clench around his digit.

“You’re still so tight after all these years,” the man says, diving in once more as he familiarizes himself once more of your addictive essence, licking and sucking at your core for all its worth like it’s his last day on the planet.

Just as you were about to climax, three knocks on the door resonate throughout the empty room, and as you push your thighs together and signaling Taehyung to keep quiet underneath the table, the door opens one more time and the chairman’s head pokes through the side, eyes scanning the room to look for you. Fixing your appearance discreetly, you put on a smile on your face, ignoring the frustration that came with not being able to orgasm properly.

“Wanna go grab lunch with me, sweetheart?”

“Sure. I’ll be out in a few, babe. Just… gotta go through some emails,” comes your breathless answer. “Okay darling. I’ll be waiting for you by my office.” When you feel Taehyung’s fingers start to dance back up along your legs, you swat them away, the realization of your unfaithful acts finally dawning on you.

“Stop it Taehyung and get up from there,” you tell him, pulling down your silk skirt that’s shamelessly bunched up around your hips. As you tame the creases on your skirt, the light above you hits the rock on your fourth finger. The gleam hits your eyes perfectly, the diamond on your engagement ring seemingly mocking you of your infidelity.

For the sake of your sanity, you don’t say another word to Taehyung who also had his eyes trained on your ring. Quickly you grab your things off the desk, not sparing your dejected ex-boyfriend a look. As you reach the door, you rest your head on the hard plastic, “I’m happy now, Taehyung. Please respect that.” With a sigh, you open the door, not daring to take a look back.

Taehyung nods silently, looking away from your figure as a tear rolls down his cheek, regret and longingness weighing on him heavily.

#bts smut #taehyung smut #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #btsguild #btsghostie #ksmutclub #paralumanplaylist #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader

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realllllfangirllllll · 5 years

Text

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 33

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

Warnings: good old angst

{ Previous / Next }

You felt odd and attentive as you stepped out of Jaehyun’s car. Straightening the new dress out, you stood up and prepared to separate from Jaehyun. He walked up to you, nonchalantly swinging the car keys around his fingers. Checking you out, he smirked, “See? This dress looks so much better on you.”

You scoffed, “Yeah. Thanks for ripping my borrowed dress and spending four thousand on a new one.”

You were about to leave for the entrance first, but he pulled you back to his side. Confused you tried to squirm out of his hold, “What are you doing? I need to go first so people don’t see us walking in together.”

He stared at you, dead serious, “Who cares. We’re from the same company, people will just assume you work for me and that’s why you’re by my side.”

His words made your heart hurt a little. You wondered if that was what he really thought of you as-- just his worker. You know he didn’t mean it, but you couldn’t help but feel used. You shifted uncomfortably in the expensive red dress, feeling absolutely foreign in such expensive material and going into such a high-class event.

Jaehyun noticed your change in behavior and placed his hand on your cheek, “Hey... I didn’t mean that. You mean so much more to me and I really do wish I could just tell everyone that you’re the light of my life.”

You pressed your lips together and smiled, “Nothing’s wrong with what you said, don’t worry. I get it. We can go in together but,” you pushed his hands off your cheek, “No touching.”

Before overthinking even more, you proceed forward to the entrance. Immediately, the ballroom’s attendees all turned to the two of you. The attention too much for you to handle, you stepped away from the spotlight to look for Mark and Soyeon. Jaehyun went to greet other people and naturally, the distance between the two of you grew further and further as the night unfolds.

This kind of setting wasn’t usually your scene, but having Mark, Soyeon, and Lucas keeping you company, made the night so much more fun. Endless waves of laughter and champagne kept you alive. Suddenly, Lucas excused himself saying that Johnny had arrived. As he left, your two friends sandwiched you, making you set your champagne down on the glass table.

“So girly, what took you so long to get here?” Soyeon smirked. “Also, YOUR DRESS??”

You almost choked when she brought up the dress. Her eyes filled with curiosity as she kept on asking you questions, not giving you a break to breathe. “Did you hate my dress that much? I mean yes, I get that it was a bit on the ‘hoe’ side but it looked cute on you.” She then snaked her hand to the back of your neck, “Wait a minute. This dress.” She slightly pulled the back of your dress down to reveal the label and her mouth was left agape with shock. “Holy shit Mark. This is it. We can happily send our love away.”

Mark looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “What makes you think that?”

Soyeon smirked, “Because our little baby bird here is wearing a 4k Alexander Wang dress.”

Now, it was Mark’s turn to open his mouth wide. “Holy shit. Our love has a sugar daddy now.”

You rolled your eyes at your dramatic friends as they continued to make exaggerated reactions, poking you here and there, feeling the material of your dress. “Shut up you two...” You stared down at your sparkly, black heels and told them softly, “I only let him buy me this because the previous dress kind of ripped a little...” You looked up at Soyeon with guilt, “Sorry for ruining your dress.”

She waved her hand, “Please. That dress wasn’t even that much.” She then wrapped her arm around your shoulder, forcing you to get closer towards her, “But the real issue here is, why did my dress rip hm?”

Panic rushed over you and you turn to Mark for help but he simply responded, “Yeah, I agree with Soyeon. What the hell happened?”

You stood up and said with embarrassment written all over your face, “Nothing! I have to go to the restroom. Bye!”

As you got ready to leave the table, Jaehyun towered over you and placed his hands on the back of your waist. He smirked, turning you around to face your friends, “How are you guys enjoying the ball so far?”

You thought you noticed a sly glint in Soyeon’s eyes as she replied, “Oh just great and it’s all thanks to the powerful Jung Yoonoh.” She exchanged a knowing look with Jaehyun as you and Mark stared at them with confusion.

Mark spoke up, “Wait, hold up. When did you two get so close?” He pointed to both Jaehyun and Soyeon as they burst out into laughter.

Jaehyun answered sarcastically, “It’s pretty hard not to know the neighbor who blasts EDM music until 2 in the morning.”

Soyeon scoffed jokingly, “Please, my party’s are the best and you know it.”

You and Mark just stared at each other and then back at them while they exchanged a conversation the two of you thought you’d never hear. You became skeptical and asked your boyfriend, “You’ve been to one of her parties?”

He leaned in closer and whispered to you, loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Don’t worry baby, her parties are trash and I won’t ever be those people,” he motioned his head towards Soyeon, “who grinds on sweaty bodies and calls it dancing.”

As he finished talking, Soyeon gasped and chucked a name tag on the table towards him. She dramatically exclaimed, “How dare you! I disapprove of this relationship! You and y/n is a big no from me.”

Jaehyun was avoiding her dramatic outburst playfully but suddenly tensed up at her words. He got closer to her and whisper-shouted, “Keep your voice down, unless you want the whole world to know about our relationship.”

You felt something ache in your heart as he told your friend those words. Mark caught your sudden change of expression and shot you a sympathetic look. You brushed it off and chugged the champagne Jaehyun held. His sudden empty hands stopped him from conversing with Soyeon. Just as he was about to say something to you, Lucas approached your table, slightly covering the tall man behind him, “Whoa there little one, slow down on the drinking or else you won’t even remember Johnny over here,” Lucas stepped aside and gestured to the tall man by placing a firm pat on his back.

You choked a little on your drink. As Jaehyun pat you gently on the back, he asked with concern, “Are you ok baby?”

Setting down the glass, you wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, “Yeah I’m ok... It’s just-” You looked at Johnny with confusion, “Aren’t you Mark’s friend?”

He chuckled deeply, “So you’re the famous y/n.”

You stared at him for a second and then broke out into a huge grin, “Oh my god, it’s so nice to see you again!” You ran towards him and gave him a tight hug. Your arms were still wrapped around his waist as you pulled your head back to stare up at him, “So you’re a model huh?”

Gently ruffling your hair, he replied with a sweet smile, “Not by choice babe.”

“Hey! Don’t mess up my hair!” Pouting, you attempted to fix your styled hair.

The two of you forgot about everyone in the table who was now staring with a variety of expressions. From a smiley Soyeon, a smug Mark, a confused Lucas, to a very pissed off Jaehyun, you and Johnny cleared your throats and separated from each other. Jaehyun walked forward, fuming, and connected your hands together, protectively pulling you to him. Johnny chuckled and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Calm down Mr. CEO, y/n is the photographer I was talking about. Mark introduced her to me.”

After hearing Johnny’s words, he loosened up and glared at him, “Good. Because I would’ve killed you right here.”

You stared at them with confusion and Johnny rolled his eyes at Jaehyun, “Stop being so possessive bro.”

Lucas sat down beside Soyeon, with his arms wrapped around her. They whispered secretively and suddenly announced, “OK! Since there seems to be a lot of misunderstanding and secrets going on here. It’s confession time ladies and gents!” Lucas continued, “Johnny you go first.”

Everyone stared at Lucas like he was psychotic, but he only smirked as he edged Johnny to speak. Giving in, Johnny cleared his throat and confessed, “So... I always wanted to be a photographer instead of a model, so I secretly went to y/n’s photoshoots to help her. BUT I swear,” he turned to Jaehyun, “I did not know she was the y/n. I just assumed she was Mark’s friend with the same name.” He sighed and everyone stared at him. Suddenly, you burst into giggles. “It’s not that serious you guys. And Jaehyun over here,” you placed your hands on his shoulders and told everyone, “is just a hothead who loves me too much,” a smile left your lips as you gazed up at him sweetly, “Right love?”

You wrapped your arm around him and he playfully rolled his eyes, “Yeah whatever.”

Just then Lucas’ phone rang causing him to momentarily leave the area. When he came back you heard him whisper to Jaehyun. You caught him saying, “I got some information from the investigator regarding him. This is some big news.”

Instantly, Jaehyun’s eyes flickered with curiosity. He was about to tell you he had to go, but an unfamiliar voice called him. Both you and Jaehyun turned around to see a well-dressed, middle-aged man. Almost immediately, he took your arm off his and straightened up, “Mr. Na, what a wonderful charity ball.”

You felt a sharp pang strike your heart. Although you knew this relationship had to be kept a secret for the best, you couldn’t help but feel heartbroken at how fast Jaehyun can distance himself from you. Your friends all felt the same tension and stayed silent as Johnny and Lucas, too, walked forward to greet the man.

Lucas gave you a small pat on the arm as he walked forward. “Mr. Na, you surprise me every time! You really outdid yourself with this ball. Our interns really enjoyed it as well,” he gestured to the three of you.

The man gave us a polite smile and went back to conversing with Jaehyun, “As always, SM Management has never let us down. Your stocks are impressive and I will be glad to introduce you to our guests here tonight.”

Jaehyun disguised his excitement with a polite handshake, “It would be my pleasure, Mr. Na.”

He laughed shaking his hands, “Let me introduce to you my wonderful son and the heir to Starship. I hope he and you will be working together quite often in the future.”

Just then, a person dressed in a very classy and expensive suit walked in. Your eyes widen in both panic and shock as he shook hands with Jaehyun. Jaehyun pressed his lips together and formed a forced smile as he shook his hands with great strength. You slightly tap Jaehyun’s back, scared he was going to break the poor guy’s hand. When he let go of his hand, the man turned to you, staring at you with soft eyes, “Y/n.”

Everyone’s attention was now on you and the man. You froze not knowing what to do with this unexpected situation. He smiled brightly and said, “I’m glad I get to see one person I like here.”

His father gave him a quick glare as he said such an inconsiderate statement in front of everyone. You finally got the courage to speak up, “Jaemin I-”

Before you could say anything, Jaehyun protectively stood in front of you and said, “I’m looking forward to working with you, but unfortunately our interns will not be working as closely with you as you’d like.”

The two exchanged firm eye contact with each other, neither one budging to cut the tension. Jaemin’s father then spoke up with a chuckle, “So son, you know Jaehyun’s intern?”

Jaemin broke the intense stare-off and put on a smile again, “Y/n is my,” he stared at you and stood beside you, “y/n is a very close friend of mine from university.” He then continued, ignoring Jaehyun’s fuming expression, “I actually know Jaehyun too, but I’ll save that story for another time,” he chuckled. Placing a hand on your arm, he gently said to you, “See you next time?”

You managed to place a smile on your face as your only response. You weren’t aware of why Jaemin was so happy before he left with his father to the podium, but what you were aware of was Johnny and Lucas rushing to hold your boyfriend back. You snapped out of your thoughts and rushed to Jaehyun. Grabbing his face, you forced him to look at you, “Don’t cause a scene Yoonoh. You’re here to impress them, remember?” His blood was boiling, but as you continued speaking to him softly, his eyes softened and focused on you. You let your hands fall down to his arms as a precaution, just in case anyone walked by and saw you. “Jaemin was just happy to see a friend. There was nothing more to that.” You then connected your hands together, “I love you, and only you, Jaehyun. Don’t ever forget that. No matter what happens, I love you.”

You smiled at him as he slowly returned a small smile. You poked his dimple and grinned, “There’s my cute boyfriend.”

He rolled his eyes at your compliment. Just then, Jaemin’s father announced from the stage, “I will like to welcome a great friend of mine, who will help in building a fantastic foundation for the partnership between Starship and SM Management. Please welcome, Jung Jaehyun!”

A round of applause was heard throughout the large ballroom. You gave him a subtle wink as he went forward to the stage.

From the moment he told you his company was struggling, you felt a large amount of guilt rush over you. You often thought that if you hadn’t met Jaehyun, he might not have so many problems to deal with, especially ones that involved Emily. Tonight, however, you were beyond happy that he had found a way to jump over that hurdle and stay strong for his company. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as he started his speech. Although the ballroom was much larger and fancier than your lecture hall, you couldn’t help but think back to when you first found out his true identity. You laughed to yourself as you realized that he, too, was giving a speech that day. However, your thoughts were interrupted when the lights of the ballroom shut off.

Suddenly, the projector screen on the stage lit up and a light was shone on Jaehyun. The audience seems to be relaxed, waiting for a special video to play on the projector, but you knew something was wrong. Your eyes laid on Jaehyun’s face and his expression was one of utter confusion.

Everyone’s attention faced the projector screen as a video started playing. You watched in horror as the screen displayed a videotape of you and Jaehyun in the conference room. As the video came to an end, a light shone directly on you. You could see your friends walking towards you in an attempt to divert the attention. You could also see Jaehyun and Jaemin frantically discussing with the security team to find out who did this. However, the only thing you felt was everyone’s stares. The audio system suddenly boomed with a mysterious voice.

This is the true identity of the person you plan on working with. An office romance with an intern? How can someone be so unprofessional... I am hugely disappointed and so should you.

The warped voice played on loop as it rang throughout the ballroom. You felt everyone continuously staring at you with looks of shock, judgment, and disgust on their faces. You suddenly felt dizzy, the memories of your childhood came rushing back to you.

At this very moment, you felt like your 3 year-old self who stood in the middle of the customer service of a department store. Crying for your parents but was only met with odd glances from customers. You remember how vulnerable and guilty you felt. You remember how you thought to yourself: Why did my own parents leave me? Did I do something to upset them? Why won’t they come back to me??

A loud boom brought you back to reality. You turned towards the entrance doors and found reporters swarming in, attempting to run towards either Jaehyun or you. The ballroom security guards tried their best to keep them from intruding, but you had enough of the chaos. You rushed to the nearest room and found yourself in a fancy restroom, decorated with mirrors.

You tried to get a hold of yourself but was met with your own appearance in the mirrors surrounding you. You thought it was impossible, but it was as if your own appearances were laughing and scolding you.

Look at you, getting caught with someone way over your league.

Look at the mess you’ve caused!

Jaehyun’s career is ruined because of you!

This is why your parents left you.

You can’t even behave properly!

At this point, your mind was a mess. You couldn’t get the voices out of your head and tears started rolling down your cheeks. You slid down on the floor, cradling yourself as if it will help you calm down. You felt dizzy and missed your brother so much. He was always there to comfort you. He was the only person who took care of you when no one else did, not even your parents. But this time, he wasn’t here. No one was. You felt so useless and scared.

Pictures of your parents leaving you, the reporters flooding into your apartment, and the ruckus right outside you all came crashing down on you. You couldn’t handle the stress anymore. Feeling a little lightheaded, you looked up and started seeing a white light that kept expanding bigger and bigger. Slowly, you fell into a visionless, dark tunnel, no longer aware that you weren’t conscious.

———

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