82. Unbreakable Bond

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Jungkook couldn't take it anymore—the pain, the hollow ache in her heart that refused to subside.

It felt as if every corner of her body was screaming for solace, for relief from the crushing emptiness that Kara's words had left behind.

She had spent what felt like an eternity curled against the door, her heart warring between the past she couldn't change and the future she was terrified of losing. But in the end, there was only one truth she couldn't deny—one person who had always been there, despite the storm raging around them.

Taehyung.

The one who had always been there for her, even when the truth of his father's actions felt like an insurmountable barrier between them.

The door separating them was no longer enough to keep her heart from breaking open. She couldn't stay hidden behind the wood, unable to breathe, unable to think.

Taehyung was on the other side, his pain, his desperation to be with her pressing through the cracks of the door, and Jungkook realized something in that moment.

She was afraid.

Afraid of the truth.

Afraid of facing him, of facing the world that had been twisted by her family's past. But more than that, she was afraid of losing him. Losing the one person who had been her constant, who had always tried to protect her, despite everything.

With a shaky breath, Jungkook pushed herself up from the floor and wiped the stream of tears. She couldn't let the silence between them grow any deeper. She couldn't let the door stay between them, a barrier that had no right to exist anymore.

Her hand reached for the door handle, trembling, as if the very act of opening it would tear her apart.

The door creaked open, and Taehyung was right there.

He shot up instantly, his dark eyes widening with something raw—relief, desperation, something deeper, something that made Jungkook's breath hitch. His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but he never got the chance.

Because Jungkook moved.

She slammed into him with such force that it sent them both stumbling back a step, her arms locking around his torso, fingers digging into his back like she was afraid he'd disappear if she didn't hold on tight enough.

A choked sound tore from her throat as she buried her face into his chest, her body wracked with the kind of sobs that came from a place too deep to name. Her shoulders shook violently, her breath ragged, and she didn't care that she was falling apart right there in his arms.

Taehyung stiffened for half a second, just a breath, before he melted.

His arms came around her in an instant, wrapping around her small frame, crushing her against him with a force that bordered on desperation. One hand tangled in her hair, the other splayed against her lower back, pressing her so close that not even air could slip between them.

His heart thundered against her ear, fast, frantic—like he was just as terrified of losing her as she was of losing him.

"I'm here, Jungkook," he murmured into her hair, his voice full of the pain that he had been holding in all this time.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Jungkook tightened her grip on him, her hands fisting in his shirt. She felt his body against hers, his heartbeat beneath her ear, and it levelled her in a way nothing else could. She clung to him like he was her anchor in a storm, her body trembling against him with every silent sob that wracked her frame.

Taehyung's fingers gently combed through her hair, to reassure her that it was okay to feel lost. Jungkook let out a broken wail, her body shaking as she finally allowed herself to let go.

To let herself feel the full emotions that had been building up. It was as if the floodgates had opened, and there was no holding back the torrent of grief, betrayal, and confusion that had been suffocating her.

In that moment, she didn't care about anything else.

Not her family, not the secrets that had been kept from her, not the twisted web of lies that had shaped her past.

All that mattered was that Taehyung was here, holding her as she fell apart.

All that mattered was the feel of his arms around her, offering her the comfort and safety she had been craving.

And Taehyung? He held her even tighter, his heart breaking with each shuddering breath she took.

"Let it out, Jungkook," Taehyung whispered, his voice raw, aching.

Jungkook didn't hold back. She sobbed harder, the sound ripped straight from her soul, her fragile frame trembling in his arms. Her fists clutched at his shirt, her fingers curling tighter and tighter, as if she could anchor herself in him and not drown.

The fabric beneath her hands grew damp, her tears soaking through his clothes, but Taehyung didn't care. He let her cry, let her press herself against him as if she could pour all of her sorrow into his chest. And maybe she could. Maybe that was all he could offer—to take her pain, to bear it with her, to hold her until the weight of it didn't crush her completely.

Each choked sob sent tremors through her small body, but with every tear that fell, something shifted. It wasn't gone, not even close, but the pain inside her dulled—just enough. Just enough for her to breathe, to keep holding on.

She was still shattered, still lost, but in his arms, she wasn't alone.

Taehyung felt it—the way she sagged against him, surrendering. Not because she was weak, but because she had fought for too long, carried too much.

He couldn't let her carry it alone anymore.

Without hesitation, he slid his arms beneath her legs and lifted her into his embrace.

Jungkook barely reacted, her body light in his hold, delicate in a way that made something in his chest ache. She didn't resist, didn't pull away. Instead, she curled into him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

His grip tightened. One hand pressed against her back, keeping her close, while the other supported her beneath her knees, his hold steady, unyielding.

With careful steps, he carried her across the room, each step deepening the tightness in his chest.

Her weight against him wasn't heavy, but the burden she carried was. He could feel it in every shudder of her breath, in every small whimper she tried to silence.

He hated this.

Hated that Jungkook had to suffer, that she had to face the cruel truths of a past she never asked for. He wished—God, he wished—he could take it all away, erase every wound, every betrayal. But he couldn't.

All he could do was hold her.

And he would. For as long as she needed.

When he reached the bed, he lowered her gently, his movements careful, as if she might break apart the moment he let go.

But she didn't.

Instead, her fingers fisted his shirt, a desperate plea without words.

"Stay," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

Taehyung didn't hesitate.

He climbed into bed beside her, his arms finding her once more, pulling her back against his chest. His lips pressed against her hair, lingering there as he whispered, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Jungkook let out a shaky breath, her body melting against his, the last of her resistance crumbling.

"Leave behind the past, the betrayals, the sins. Let go of the pain, the fear. You don't have to carry it anymore."

He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"Let the future be for us, for you and me. Not the heirs, not the curse, not the wrongs of the past. Just you and me."

Taehyung leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her forehead.

"Let's embark on a new beginning, Jungkook," he whispered. "A life without the chains of the past. A life where I will love you, protect you, and cherish you every single day. No more darkness. Just light. Just us. Just Taehyung and Jungkook."

Jungkook turned her face toward him, her eyes tired but filled with a yearning for peace. The tears had slowed, and the tightness in her chest had lessened, but she still ached.

Taehyung barely had time to react before Jungkook shifted, pressing herself closer, her warmth seeping into him like a quiet plea for comfort.

He let her, his body adjusting naturally as she curled into his chest, her cheek settling just over his heart.

Taehyung laid back against the bed, his arms instinctively wrapping around her, his fingers trailing lightly down her spine. He wasn't sure if he was holding her together or if she was holding him, but it didn't matter.

Jungkook didn't speak. She only curled further into him, her fingers lightly gripping his shirt, as if anchoring herself to something real. She wasn't crying anymore, but her breaths were still uneven, like she was trying to remember how to breathe again.

Taehyung exhaled softly and pressed his lips to the top of her head, lingering there for a moment.

Jungkook shifted again, just slightly, her hand slipping under his shirt to rest against his bare chest, right over his heart.

The warmth of her palm against his bare skin, her fingers curled slightly against his skin—it sent a shiver down his spine. Not because of desire, but because it was her. Because after everything, she still reached for him.

Jungkook's eyes fluttered closed, her body relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. Taehyung remained by her side, his presence offering her the promise of a future they would build together.

No longer weighed down by the sins of their past, no longer defined by the legacy they had inherited.

Just Taehyung and Jungkook.

Together.

Always.

____.

Next day

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains.

Jungkook slowly stirred from her sleep. As she opened her eyes, a sharp ache throbbed behind her temples, making her wince in discomfort. Her head felt heavy, as if the weight of everything that had happened in the past day had settled within it.

She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the light. Her body felt sluggish, due to the exhaustion that no amount of sleep could erase. She ran a shaky hand through her hair, only to find it a tangled mess—strands sticking out in every direction. Her face felt puffy, the tears she'd shed the night before still lingering on her skin.

As Jungkook attempted to sit up, the room spun for a moment, the headache intensifying, and she had to steady herself by gripping the bed sheets tightly. She looked around, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
Jungkook swallowed, her throat dry, and blinked through the haze clouding her mind. Her body felt heavy, the exhaustion pressing down on her limbs, as if even the simple act of breathing took effort. 

She exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into the silk sheets beneath her. It took her a moment to register that she wasn't alone. Her gaze shifted to the side—and there he was. 

Taehyung. 

He sat at the edge of the bed, his large frame leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, fingers loosely clasped together. His expression was unreadable, but there was something raw in the way his eyes roamed over her, as if memorizing every detail of her face. 

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. 

Then, slowly, Taehyung reached out. His hand brushed against her tangled hair, smoothing a few strands away from her face. 

"You look like hell," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. 

Jungkook let out a soft, humorless huff. "I feel like it." 

His fingers lingered against her temple, the touch so gentle it made something in her chest ache. His thumb brushed against her skin absentmindedly, as if tracing the remnants of her pain. 

"Headache?" he asked quietly. 

She nodded. 

Without a word, Taehyung shifted. She watched, dazed, as he reached for a glass of water from the nightstand, pressing it into her hands. Then, his palm settled against her shoulder, and he guided her forward slightly. 

"Drink," he instructed. 

Jungkook obeyed, taking slow sips, the cool liquid easing the dryness in her throat. When she finally set the glass down, Taehyung was still watching her. His eyes held something unreadable—something that made her pulse stutter. 

Jungkook didn't think twice before shifting closer, seeking warmth, seeking him. With a tired sigh, she pressed her face against his chest, her body melting into the familiar comfort of his presence. 

Taehyung stiffened for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching, but then he relaxed, his arms instinctively wrapping around her. His large palm found the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her tangled hair as he guided her even closer. She could hear his heartbeat. 

"You're burning up," he murmured, his tone softer now, concern seeping through. 

Jungkook hummed against him, her eyes fluttering shut. "Just tired," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his shirt. "And my head... it won't stop hurting." 

Taehyung exhaled, the sound barely audible. Then, with the same tenderness he rarely showed, his fingers slid from her hair to her temples, his thumbs pressing lightly against the skin there. 

Jungkook let out a soft, involuntary sigh. He began massaging, applying just enough pressure to ease the ache. His hands were warm and despite the exhaustion weighing down her body, a shiver ran down her spine at the sheer intimacy of it. 

"Better?" he asked, his voice close to her ear. 

Jungkook nodded lazily, already sinking further into him. "Mhm... feels nice." 

Taehyung chuckled, the sound vibrating against her. "Of course, it does. My hands are magic." 

Jungkook would've rolled her eyes if she had the energy, but instead, she only nuzzled deeper into his chest, her fingers curling lightly into his shirt. 

For once, she didn't feel the need to argue. 

For once, Taehyung didn't feel the need to tease. 

The moment was soft. Quiet. Suspended in the gentle hush of morning light and the rhythmic pattern of his fingers against her skin. 

Her breath caught as she closed her eyes, the pain in her head only intensifying the flood of emotions. The words Kara had spoken, her family's loss—all of it seemed to converge on her fragile state of mind, making it hard to breathe.

Taehyung felt her body tensed, the way her breath hitched against his chest. His grip on her tightened just a little, anchoring her. 

"Jungkook," he murmured, his fingers never stopping their gentle strokes against her temple.

She let out a shaky exhale, pressing her forehead against his collarbone. "It hurts," she whispered, her voice barely there. 

His chest ached at the vulnerability in her tone. Taehyung had seen her fight, argue, hold herself together through storms—he had never seen her like this. So small. So fragile. 

"I know," he said, his voice quieter now. "I know it does." 

Jungkook swallowed, her throat tight. "I— I can't stop thinking about it." 

He sighed softly, his other hand sliding down her back. "Then don't think about it right now," he murmured, resting his chin atop her head. "Just for a moment... let it be. Let yourself rest." 

She clenched her fingers into his shirt, her body trembling slightly. "But—" 

"No 'but,' Jungkook," he interrupted gently. "You're exhausted. You don't have to carry everything all at once." 

Her lashes fluttered against his skin. She wanted to argue, but her body was already betraying her. His embrace, his voice rumbled through his chest, his breathing—it was lulling her into a state of surrender. 

Taehyung felt the moment Jungkook's body went slack against him, her weight melting into his chest. She was exhausted, and it showed in the way her fingers barely clung to his shirt. 

Without a word, he shifted, slipping one arm under her knees and the other around her back, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. She let out a soft, surprised whirr, but didn't protest, only tucking her face against his shoulder as he carried her toward the bathroom. 

The warm glow of the bathroom lights flickered on as Taehyung nudged the door open with his foot. He set her down gently on the wash basin, crouching in front of her. 

"Take a warm bath," he murmured, brushing a few loose strands from her face. "It'll help with the headache." 

Jungkook blinked up at him, still drowsy, but the sight of his face—so close, so serious—made her lips curve faintly. "Are you going to help me with that too, Mr. Kim?" she mumbled playfully. 

Taehyung's gaze darkened, his lips twitching. "Don't tempt me, wifey," he murmured, standing to turn on the bath. The sound of running water filled the space, steam curling into the air as he adjusted the temperature. 

Taehyung rolling his sleeves up as he knelt beside the bathtub. His fingers brushed the water's surface, a faint sparkle following the motion—his magic sinking into the warm water making it soothing. 

Jungkook watched him through heavy lids, her body too tired to move, but her heart very much awake. 

"You always take care of me," she murmured, voice soft, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. 

Taehyung exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable as he reached for her hand, guiding her fingers to test the water. "Not always," he murmured, his thumb absently tracing her knuckles. "Not enough." 

Jungkook frowned slightly, blinking up at him. 

"You're here, aren't you?" she whispered. "That's enough." 

Taehyung stilled for a moment before shaking his head lightly, as if she didn't understand, but he didn't argue. Instead, he helped her up, his arms steady around her as he guided her toward the bath. 

A beat of silence stretched between them. Then, Jungkook felt it—the softest press of lips against her damp forehead. 

Her eyes fluttered open just in time to see him pulling away. 

"Call me if you need anything," he murmured, voice softer than she had ever heard it. 

Then, just like that, he was gone, leaving behind only the warmth of his touch and the lingering weight of something unspoken.

Jungkook blushed at his actions, her heart beating just a little faster as she reached for the chain of her dress.

She let out a slow breath, tilting her head back as she worked to undo the chain, her movements slower than usual due to exhaustion. Her skin still tingled where his lips had pressed against her forehead, a gesture so simple yet so intimate that it sent a shiver down her spine. 

As the dress loosened, slipping down her shoulders, she caught her own reflection in the water's surface. Flushed cheeks, slightly parted lips, and eyes still carrying traces of sleep—she looked softer, almost dazed. 

"Idiot," Jungkook muttered to herself, shaking her head. 

And yet, she couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. 

Even when Taehyung wasn't here, he had a way of making her feel... cherished. Safe. 

Her fingers brushed over her forehead absentmindedly, as if trying to hold onto the zeal he had left behind. 

With a sigh, Jungkook let her dress slip into the water and sank deeper, letting the warmth consume her completely.

■□■

Once Jungkook was done, she dried off slowly. Jungkook's gaze fell on the white dress that had been carefully laid out.

It was simple yet elegant—a long shirt with half-puffed sleeves and wide pants at the bottom. The upper part of the dress was adorned with delicate white floral embroidery.

Jungkook slid into the dress, the cool fabric against her skin offering a comforting touch. As she fastened the button at the collar, she noticed how the dress seemed to suit her perfectly—soft, yet strong.

The flowers on the fabric spoke of new beginnings, of the delicate beauty that life still held despite everything that had happened.

Jungkook adjusted the dress, smoothing out the creases and ran a hand through her hair, which was still damp. She didn't bother with any styling, just letting her hair fall naturally around her shoulders.

With a glance at her reflection in the mirror, Jungkook felt like renewal—like the dress was a symbol of a new chapter she was ready to begin.

The ache in her head had faded somewhat, and though her heart still carried the weight of the past, she stood taller now.

With one last glance, she turned away from the mirror. The white dress felt like a declaration to herself, a reminder that she was moving forward.

Jungkook stepped out of her room. She let out a soft breath, her fingers gripping the wooden railing as she took careful steps down the grand staircase. The soft patter of her bare feet against the polished floor was the only sound in the quiet house.

A string brushed against her fingers, and before she could even react—

Pop!

A shower of glittering confetti burst into the air, cascading down in golden and silver flecks. The tiny pieces caught the light as they fluttered around her, some landing on her hair, some dusting her shoulders like the first snow of winter.

Jungkook gasped, startled, her eyes widening as she instinctively flinched back. Before she could even process it, a loud cheer erupted from below.

"Welcome home, Jungkookie!"

Jungkook's wide eyes darted to the faces waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Grandma Kim stood front and center, her frame straight and proud, yet her eyes glistened with a warmth that made Jungkook's throat tighten.

Jimin was beside her. Yeonjun grinned from the side, his hands in his pockets, but his dimples were on full display, betraying his fondness. And then there was Soomin, lingering slightly behind them all, her expression unreadable but her eyes locked onto Jungkook with something softer than usual.

Jungkook's lips trembled. "W-What is this?"

Yeonjun feigned a dramatic sigh. "Well, someone had to remind you that you're still the spoiled Jungkook we all adore. And what better way than showering you with glitter? Now you literally shine."

"This is us welcoming you home, Koo," Jimin said, voice full of sincerity. "You've been through too much alone. Not anymore."

Jungkook's throat burned.

Home.

She had spent years believing she had one, only for the truth to rip it away from her. She had convinced herself that she was standing on nothing but broken ground, lost and uncertain. But here they were, standing before her, arms open.

A family.

Her family.

Grandma Kim was the first to move, her frail but strong arms wrapping around Jungkook the second she reached the last step. The older woman held her close, one hand stroking the back of Jungkook's head, murmuring soft words of comfort.

"You've been through so much, my love," she said, her voice warm and soothing. "So we decided—no more tears today."

Jungkook swallowed thickly, her vision blurring slightly. She buried herself into the embrace, her arms curling around the old woman's shoulders, her fingers clutching at her back.

Yeonjun observed the emotional reunion with his arms crossed. But, of course, he couldn't let the moment stay too sentimental for too long. That wasn't his style.

"Alright, alright," he drawled, stepping closer with a dramatic sigh. "Hugs and tears are all good, but let's not forget the real tragedy here."

Jungkook sniffled and pulled back slightly from Grandma Kim's embrace, blinking up at him in confusion. "What... tragedy?"

Yeonjun sighed, placing a hand over his chest. "That my poor, glitter-covered sister-in-law is ruining my designer aesthetic. You got tears and snot on Grandma's shawl, which, mind you, is way too expensive for emotional breakdowns."

Jungkook's jaw dropped, eyes widening in offense. "I did not—!"

Yeonjun stepped forward, inspecting her with an exaggerated squint. "Oh, my bad, it's just the tears then. But still, SIL, come on! If you're gonna cry, at least do it elegantly. You look like a drenched puppy."

Jungkook gasped, wiping her face aggressively. "Yeonjun, you—"

Minjun giggled at their exchange, tugging at Jungkook's hand. "Kookie, you do look like a sparkly princess, though! Like a fairy!"

Jungkook sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "At least my baby Minjun still loves me." She bent down and ruffled his hair, making the ten-year-old giggle.

Grandma Kim chuckled. "Enough teasing, you rascal," she told Yeonjun before turning back to Jungkook, brushing a hand over her cheek gently. "My dear, you must be exhausted."

Jungkook's lips parted slightly at the warmth in her voice. The realization hit her—despite everything, she still had a place to belong. A family that loved her.

And then, as if on cue, another presence entered the scene.

Taehyung.

Taehyung stepped into the room, his brows knitting together the moment his eyes landed on Jungkook. Her face was flushed, her lashes damp and her hands were still trembling slightly.

His confusion deepened as he looked around.

The entire Kim family was gathered—Grandma Kim, Jimin, Yeonjun, little Minjun, and even Soomin, who was watching from the sidelines with an amused expression. But what confused him the most was the glitter confetti still scattered across Jungkook's hair and shoulders.

"What... is happening here?" Taehyung asked, his voice slow, cautious. His sharp gaze flickered between Jungkook's teary eyes and Grandma Kim's knowing smile.

Yeonjun clapped his hands together. "Brother, I was just telling Sil that she looks like a literal fairy, but you missed the grand entrance. She even got emotional—snot, tears, the whole thing."

"Yeonjun!" Jungkook gasped in outrage.

Taehyung barely reacted to his brother's dramatics. Instead, he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving Jungkook's face. He reached out, plucking a stray piece of gold confetti from her hair. "You cried?"

Jungkook pursed her lips. "Not on purpose."

"Mm." His fingers lingered a second longer than necessary before he flicked the confetti away. Then, without another word, he turned to Yeonjun. "And whose idea was this?"

Yeonjun grinned. "Mine, of course. Genius, right?"

Taehyung stared at him for a long moment before nodding once. "You're cleaning it up."

Yeonjun's smile dropped. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me." Taehyung turned back to Jungkook, brushing another fleck of glitter from her cheek. "Welcome home, wifey."

Jungkook's heart skipped a beat.

Yeonjun groaned dramatically in the background. "I did not suffer for this moment just for you to have your little romantic drama while I get stuck sweeping!"

Minjun, delighted, raised his arms. "I'll help!"

Jungkook chuckled, shaking her head, while Jimin just patted Yeonjun's back sympathetically. Grandma Kim took Jungkook's hand in hers and turned to Taehyung with a warm smile.

"We wanted to remind her that she has a family," the older woman said softly. "That she is loved and cherished. No matter what."

Taehyung's chest tightened. His gaze flickered back to Jungkook, watching the way she wiped at her face with the back of her hand, her lips still wobbling slightly.

Realization dawned on him, hitting him like a wave.

She had been feeling lost.

Alone.

Like she didn't belong.

And his family—their family—had made sure to remind her that she wasn't alone in this world.

Taehyung exhaled, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "You guys really know how to make someone cry, huh?"

Jungkook huffed, poking his chest. "Shut up. I wasn't that bad."

Before Taehyung could respond, Yeonjun smirked, crossing his arms. "Not that bad? Sil, you practically turned into a sparkly, sobbing mess. I mean, we all saw it—tears, sniffles, the whole thing."

Jimin leaned in with a dramatic sigh. "Honestly, I thought we might have to wring out Grandma's shawl after that emotional flood."

Jungkook gasped, scandalized. "There was no flood! And no snot!"

Yeonjun tapped his chin in mock thought. "Mmm, debatable—"

Before he could finish, Taehyung stepped in between them, giving his siblings a pointed glare. His expression was calm, but the warning in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Alright, that's enough," he said smoothly, his voice carrying that natural authority. "My wife had a long day, and the last thing she needs is you two acting like overgrown children."

Jimin and Yeonjun immediately straightened, exchanging quick glances before looking back at Taehyung, feigning innocence.

"We were just—" Jimin started, but Taehyung cut him off with a look.

"I know what you were just doing," Taehyung said dryly. "And as your elder brother, I'm telling you to knock it off."

Yeonjun groaned. "Ugh, the elder brother card again?"

"That's right," Taehyung said, deadpan. "And unless you want me to really use it, you'll behave."

Jimin huffed, nudging Yeonjun. "Great. Now he's pulling rank on us. You just had to push it."

Yeonjun sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine, we'll stop. No more teasing." He turned to Jungkook with a mock solemn expression. "But only because Big Boss Kim is scary."

Jungkook pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, her hands clutching Taehyung's wrist tightly as she swayed slightly, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

"Aww, are my poor siblings sulking because they got scolded?" she teased, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.

Yeonjun scoffed, crossing his arms. "Excuse me, you're the one hiding behind him like a spoiled princess."

Jungkook gasped. "I am not a spoiled princess!"

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Then why are you still holding onto his wrist like he's your bodyguard?"

Jungkook blinked, looking down at her hands still wrapped around Taehyung's wrist. Heat crept up her cheeks, but instead of letting go, she gripped it tighter.

"Because he's my husband," jungkook declared smugly. "And unlike you two, he actually cares about my well-being."

Yeonjun clutched his chest dramatically. "Wow. Betrayed by my own sister-in-law. This is worse than brother pulling rank."

Jimin shook his head. "Tragic. Absolutely tragic."

Taehyung rolled his eyes, placing his free hand over Jungkook's clasped ones and giving them a small squeeze. "Alright, enough whining. Let's eat before Grandma forces all of us to sit through a lecture on proper family bonding."

At that, Yeonjun and Jimin straightened immediately, their expressions turning serious.

"Right. Food. Very important," Yeonjun muttered.

"Agreed. Let's go," Jimin added.

Jungkook giggled, following Taehyung as they moved toward the dining table. She didn't miss the way Yeonjun stuck his tongue out at her when he thought Taehyung wasn't looking.

But before she could retaliate, Taehyung casually turned his head. "Yeonjun, I saw that."

Yeonjun froze and then rolled his eyes but grinned. "Yeah, yeah, brother."

Jungkook laughed, shaking her head. Maybe they teased, maybe they annoyed each other to no end—but at the end of the day, this was home. And no matter what, she knew Taehyung would always be there, standing between her and the world.

Yeonjun clapped his hands together. "Alright, now that our beloved Jungkook has been emotionally overwhelmed and coddled, I vote we celebrate."

Jimin raised a brow. "Celebrate what exactly?"

Yeonjun shrugged. "The fact that we still have the best sister-in-law in existence. Obviously."

Minjun bounced on his heels. "Can we have cake?"

Jungkook chuckled. "I think that's a great idea."

Taehyung whispering in her ear, "Want anything specific, Mrs. Kim?"

Jungkook turned to him, her face softening at the way he was looking at her. The teasing was fun, but right now, Taehyung's warm gaze felt like home.

She hummed in thought before grinning. "Chocolate cake."

Minjun cheered. "Yes! Chocolate!"

Soon, the gloomy atmosphere in the Kims manor turned chirpy and happy.

Minjun's giggles rang out as Yeonjun tried (and failed) to steal a piece of frosting before the cake was fully decorated. Jimin pretended not to care but ended up scolding them both while sneaking a bite himself.

Grandma Kim sat in her chair, watching everything with soft eyes, her heart full as she saw her family together. Even Soomin had a small smile playing on her lips as she observed the chaos.

Jungkook sat beside Taehyung, her fingers loosely intertwined with his. The weight on her chest had lifted, the ache of uncertainty replaced by a warm feeling.

She turned to Taehyung, her voice soft but certain. "Thank you."

Taehyung tilted his head. "For what?"

"For being here," she murmured, squeezing his hand. "For always standing beside me. For this family."

His lips curled into a slow smile, his free hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "I told you, Mrs Kim. You're not alone. You never were. And you never will be."

Jungkook exhaled, leaning into his touch. Maybe the past had been cruel, maybe there were scars she would always carry, but tonight, surrounded by love, she realized something—she wasn't broken. She was healing.

With a final glance at her family, at the warmth in their eyes and the love in their gestures, she knew.

This was home.

And she would never let it go.

____________

Jungkook stood in the backyard, her arms resting on the cool stone railing as she stared at the sky. The evening air was crisp, carrying the scent of blooming flowers from the garden.

"You know, standing out here alone makes you look like the main character of a tragic drama," a voice piped up from behind her.

Jungkook turned, already rolling her eyes before she even saw the speaker. "Yeonjun."

Yeonjun grinned, stepping forward until he was beside her, mirroring her stance as he leaned against the railing. "Don't sound too happy to see me, sil. I might get offended."

Jungkook sighed. "I just knew you'd come here to tease me."

"Of course. That's my duty as your charming, incredibly handsome brother-in-law." He flipped his hair dramatically. "But more than that, I noticed you sneaking away. Figured I'd check in before Taehyung comes storming out here like a knight in slightly unpolished armor."

Jungkook laughed softly, shaking her head. "He's not that bad."

Yeonjun gave her a side glance. "Oh, he is. But that's his charm, I suppose."

A comfortable silence settled between them for a few moments. The chirping of class insecta filled the air, blending with the distant buzz of the city beyond the estate's walls.

Then, unexpectedly, Yeonjun's tone shifted—lighter, but sincere.

"You know, I don't say this often, but... I'm really glad you came into our family."

Jungkook turned her head sharply to look at him, her lips parting in surprise. Yeonjun wasn't smiling like he usually did when he teased her. His eyes held something softer, something real.

"You changed things, " he continued, staring ahead at the horizon. "Before you, things were... different. Brother was different."

Jungkook swallowed. "What do you mean?"

Yeonjun sighed, tilting his head back slightly, as if gathering his thoughts.

"Growing up, life wasn't as perfect as it might seem from the outside. Brother—he carried a lot of burdens. Our father..." He trailed off for a moment, then exhaled sharply.

"Let's just say, our father's sins weren't just his own. They left a mark on us. And out of all of us, Taehyung carried it the hardest."

"He was always the one trying to fix everything," Yeonjun continued. "Trying to prove he wasn't like our father. That he wouldn't make the same mistakes. But that kind of pressure... it breaks people."

Jungkook's heart ached at the thought, she had seen the weight in his eyes before. Had felt it in the way he held himself, in the way he sometimes hesitated before reaching for happiness, as if he didn't quite believe he deserved it.

"But then," Yeonjun finally turned to face her fully, "you happened."

Jungkook's eyes widened.

Yeonjun smiled, but this time, it was real. Soft. "You don't even realize it, do you?"

She stared at him, speechless.

"You gave him something our father never did," Yeonjun said. "A choice. A reason to be more than what he was forced to be." He shook his head, almost in disbelief. "Brother laughs now. He argues with you like a normal person instead of just shutting down. He feels again."

Jungkook's throat tightened.

Yeonjun sighed, turning back to the view before them. "So, yeah. That's why I'm glad you're here. Not just because you're fun to tease." He smiled faintly. "But because you brought my brother back."

Jungkook's chest felt too full. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Yeonjun let out a small chuckle, sensing her struggle.

"So, congrats, sister-in-law. You broke down the walls of the most emotionally constipated man in our family. Impressive."

Jungkook let out a watery laugh, nudging him back. "That sounds like a lot of work."

"Oh, it was," Yeonjun said dramatically. "You deserve a medal. Or at least a lifetime supply of cake."

Jungkook smiled, warmth filling her chest. She turned back to the sky, her heart feeling lighter than before. After a few moments, Jungkook spoke again.

"I'm not going anywhere, Yeonjun. No matter what happens, I'll stand by him."

"I know."

Yeonjun snickered but the warmth in his gaze didn't fade. For the first time, Jungkook saw him—not just as the teasing, carefree Yeonjun but as someone who had seen pain, loss, and struggle. Someone who had watched his brother drown in expectations and had been powerless to stop it.

And someone who, despite all of that, still believed in second chances. Jungkook swallowed hard and turned back toward the sky.

Then, Yeonjun straightened, clearing his throat. "Alright, enough of this emotional bullshit. If you tell anyone I got all sentimental, I'll deny it."

Jungkook smirked. "Oh, I'm telling everyone."

Yeonjun gasped, clutching his chest like she'd just stabbed him. "You wound me, sister-in-law. And to think, I came all the way out here just to check on you."

Jungkook hummed, tilting her head. "Mhm. And now you're regretting it, aren't you?"

Yeonjun chuckled, ruffling her hair before stepping back. "Alright, I'll spare you. But seriously," his tone softened just slightly, "go inside soon. It's getting cold."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but nodded. "Yeah, yeah."

With a final teasing salute, Yeonjun turned and strolled back toward the house, leaving Jungkook alone with her thoughts. She exhaled, leaning against the railing once more.

A choice.

Yeonjun's words echoed in her mind, settling deep into her chest. Jungkook closed her eyes briefly, feeling the breeze against her skin. Then, with one last look at the sky, she pushed off the railing and headed inside.

_________________

Time skip

╰┈☆Night

Jungkook sat at the vanity, running a wooden comb through her dark hair. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a golden hue over her reflection, making her look almost ethereal against the silk of her nightgown.

The wife adjusted the delicate ribbon of her sheer pink nightgown. The soft silk hugged her form, the lace detailing adding quiet elegance. Her skin glowed under the dim bedroom lights, her collarbones accentuated by the dainty pearl necklace resting against them.

The gentle strokes of the comb moved through her locks, a comforting rhythm as she prepared to wind down for the night.

And then, the bedroom door opened. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

Through the mirror, she saw Taehyung step inside. Dressed in a loose green shirt with a few buttons undone and dark slacks, he carried a thick leather folder in one hand while the other held his phone to his ear. His expression was sharp and focused as he spoke in a low voice.

"Yes," he said. "I'll review the contract first thing in the morning... No, don't move forward until I say so."

Jungkook's eyes remained on him in the mirror, her comb slowing against her hair. It was such a simple sight—her husband in work mode, his brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a serious line—but something about it made her pause.

He looked tired, though he'd never admit it. His shirt sleeves were slightly rolled up, his dark hair tousled in a way that made him look both effortless and devastatingly handsome.

As if sensing her gaze, Taehyung glanced up and caught her staring through the mirror. Jungkook immediately looked away, her cheeks warming as she focused on combing again.

Taehyung's lips curled at the sight, a knowing smirk playing at the corners. But he didn't comment on it. Instead, he continued speaking into the phone as he strode toward the bed, placing the folder on the bedside table with a quiet thud.

His attention should have been on work, but it wasn't. Not anymore.

Not when his wife looked like that.

Taehyung barely paid attention to the conversation anymore. His responses became lazy hums and short affirmations, his mind thoroughly distracted.

Sitting there, bathed in the soft golden light, her nightdress draping delicately over her form—jungkook looked imaginary. Ethereal.

Jungkook had this unfair ability to make even the simplest thing look ethereal. Be it formal suits or casual oversized sweaters, she wore everything with a grace that made his chest tighten. And now, in this sheer pink robe, delicate satin ribbons tied loosely at her waist, lace teasing at her shoulders—she looked like something straight out of a dream.

Something only he had the privilege to touch.

How come his wife always had such pretty clothes? Be it day or night, she somehow managed to make mere fabric look like a masterpiece.

Jungkook tried not to stare again. She really did. But when he ran a hand through his already tousled hair, letting out a tired sigh before undoing another button on his shirt, she knew she was failing miserably.

Damn him.

He was too distracting for her own good.

Jungkook bit her lip, forcing herself to focus on her hair as Taehyung continued talking, effortlessly balancing work and moving around the room.

"Yes, I'll look over the reports as well," he said, flipping open the leather folder, his eyes scanning the documents inside. His fingers tapped lightly against the table before he reached for a pen, signing something without breaking conversation.

"No, that timeline is too rushed. Push the negotiations back two days," Taehyung said, his voice dropping slightly as he leaned against the window frame, his fingers drumming against the glass. His eyes flickered toward the mirror, catching Jungkook watching him again.

This time, he smirked.

Busted.

Jungkook quickly looked down, running her comb unnecessarily through already detangled hair.

Taehyung didn't call her out, but the amusement in his gaze was evident as he took another slow sip of water before finally ending the call. With a quiet sigh, he rolled his shoulders, closing the folder and tossing his phone onto the bedside table.

Then, he turned fully toward her.

"Enjoying the view, Mrs. Kim?" he drawled, amusement dripping from every syllable.

Jungkook huffed, setting down her comb with an unnecessary amount of force. "Don't boost yourself," she muttered, though the heat creeping up her neck betrayed her.

Taehyung chuckled. He took his time moving toward her, hands slipping into his pockets, the loose fabric of his shirt shifting with every step.

Jungkook stubbornly kept her gaze fixed on the vanity, pretending to focus on the small jar of cream she had just picked up. But she felt him—his presence, his gaze, the quiet intensity that always managed to shake her resolve.

"You're terrible at pretending," Taehyung murmured as he stopped behind her.

"I was not," Jungkook shot back, dipping her fingers into the cream.

Taehyung arched a brow, his smirk deepening. "Oh? Then what exactly were you doing?"

Jungkook lifted her chin, faking nonchalance. "Fixing my hair."

Taehyung hummed in acknowledgement. His hum was slow, almost teasing, as he leaned in ever so slightly. His breath fanned against her bare shoulder, the warmth of it sending a shiver up her spine. "Then why do I get the feeling," he murmured, voice dropping an octave, "that you were very, very distracted?"

Jungkook's fingers stilled.

Damn him and his voice.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, as if gathering herself, before pushing back her chair with a quiet scrape against the floor. The flustered wife stood, the sheer fabric of her nightgown shifting around her as she turned to face him.

Her hands found his chest instantly, palms pressing against the warm fabric of his shirt as she shoved—or at least, attempted to.

Taehyung barely moved.

The only reaction he gave was the slight raise of an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he looked down at her, thoroughly unbothered by her weak attempt to put distance between them.

"Don't be delulu," Jungkook retorted, her pout deepening as she crossed her arms.

Taehyung tilted his head, processing the word, before realization dawned on him. "Did you just—" His smirk wavered, his brows pulling together slightly. "Are you seriously using internet slang on me right now?"

Jungkook's eyes gleamed. "Oh? Is Mr. Kim too out of touch to understand basic vocabulary?"

Taehyung scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Excuse me, I don't waste my time scrolling through ridiculous—"

"Oh, so you do know what it means?" Jungkook smirked, leaning in slightly. "Sounds like someone's been secretly keeping up."

Taehyung clicked his tongue, his expression slipping into something unimpressed. "I live with you. Of course, I hear your nonsense."

Jungkook gasped, hand flying to her chest as if he had personally wounded her. "Nonsense? How dare you?"

Taehyung merely shrugged, utterly unrepentant. "You heard me."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes. "I can't believe this. I educate you, expand your limited vocabulary, and this is the thanks I get?"

Taehyung snorted. "Expand my limited vocabulary? Darling, I negotiate billion-dollar deals while you sit here giggling over memes."

Jungkook gasped, scandalized. "Memes are cultural artifacts, Kim Taehyung!"

Taehyung let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Oh my god."

Jungkook, still fuming, crossed her arms tighter. "You know what? I take back every time I thought you were attractive."

Taehyung, clearly unimpressed, smirked. "Liar."

"I'm serious."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

Taehyung took a slow step forward, eyes glinting. "Then why were you checking me out just a few minutes ago?"

Jungkook's nostrils flared. "I was not checking you out."

"You definitely were."

"You're delusional."

"You're delulu."

Jungkook gawked at him. "Did you—did you just use my word against me?"

Taehyung tilted his head, a picture of mock innocence. "What can I say? I'm expanding my limited vocabulary."

Jungkook let out a frustrated noise before shoving him—again.

And just like before, Taehyung barely moved, only looking more entertained.

For a moment, they stood locked in a silent battle—Jungkook's eyes glinting with delight, Taehyung's brimming with exasperation. Then, without warning, he reached out, fingers curling around her wrist, and gave a sharp tug.

Jungkook let out a startled gasp as she stumbled forward, crashing into his chest. Her hands flew up instinctively, gripping the soft fabric of his shirt to steady herself.

Taehyung looked down at her, his smirk lazy and satisfied. "Careful, darling," he murmured. "Falling for me again?"

Jungkook scoffed, attempting to step back, but his grip on her waist tightened just enough to keep her close. "You're so full of yourself, Mr. Kim."

"And yet," he drawled, tilting his head, "Mrs. Kim was too busy staring to even comb her hair properly."

Jungkook squirmed in his hold before suddenly going still. Then, ever so sweetly, she smiled.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. "What—"

Before he could react, she pinched his side—hard.

"Ow—!" He jolted, immediately loosening his grip, and Jungkook took the opportunity to slip away, retreating to the bed with a victorious grin.

"That's what you get for running your mouth," she announced, flopping onto the pillows and picking up her phone. "Enjoy your defeat, Mr. Kim."

Taehyung stared at her, incredulous, rubbing his side. "Defeat?" He scoffed. "You pinched me like a five-year-old. That doesn't count."

"It absolutely does," Jungkook said without looking up, scrolling through her screen like she hadn't just committed violence against her husband.

Taehyung's eyes drifted to the bedside table where the large leather folder sat, its weight carrying more than just papers—it carried history, responsibility, and the remnants of a legacy that had long been abandoned.

With a quiet exhale, he reached for it, his fingers running over the textured surface before he picked it up and walked over to where Jungkook was fussing with her alarm.

Jungkook's fingers lazily swiping across the screen. She looked soft, content—her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the delicate pink of her nightgown.

Taehyung took a moment just to admire her before he sat on the edge of the bed, the folder resting on his lap.

"Busy setting alarms while your husband is handling serious matters, huh?" he drawled.

Jungkook didn't look up. "Some of us actually need sleep, Mister."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. But before you drift off, there's something you need to do."

At the shift in his tone, Jungkook finally glanced up, her brows furrowing slightly. "What is it?"

Taehyung flipped open the folder, pulling out a thick stack of documents.

"These," he said, tapping the top page, "are legal documents finalizing the transfer of all Jeon properties, lands, and assets into your name."

Jungkook blinked, her fingers pausing mid-air above her phone.

"My—what?"

"Your inheritance," Taehyung clarified, his voice softer now. "Everything that belonged to your family. Your father's businesses, the lands, the estates—it's all legally yours. This just makes it official."

Jungkook swallowed, sitting up straighter as she hesitantly reached for the papers. She stared at the documents, her name printed in bold letters on every page, tying her to an empire she had never truly considered hers.

She hesitated, running her fingers over the text as if trying to absorb the reality of it. Taehyung seemed to sense her inner turmoil because his voice softened further.

"You don't have to decide right now," he assured her. "Take your time. But I want you to know that this isn't just about money or business. It's about reclaiming what was always meant to be yours."

Jungkook lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes. They weren't just filled with expectation—they were filled with belief. In her. In the strength she had yet to fully accept in herself.

She let out a slow breath, the weight in her chest easing just a fraction.

Then, with a quiet sigh, she picked up the pen he had placed beside the folder.

"You sure about this?" she murmured, her fingers tightening around the pen.

Taehyung nodded. "One hundred percent."

A beat of silence.

And then, Jungkook pressed the pen to the paper, signing her name in confident strokes. The moment Jungkook lifted the pen from the paper, something shifted in the air.

Finality. Ownership. Freedom.

She stared at her signature, standing proudly on the legal document that cemented her claim. Her name. Her legacy.

For the first time in her life, Jeon Jungkook owned herself.

A soft chuckle broke her thoughts, and when she looked up, she found Taehyung watching her with something impossibly warm in his eyes.

Then, he lifted his fingers—and with a flick, the air shimmered.

Golden confetti rained down from seemingly nowhere, falling over her hair, her hands, their bed. Tiny specks of magic glowed in the dim bedroom light, swirling in the air like a mini celebration crafted just for her.

Jungkook gasped, her lips parting as she looked around in wonder. "Mr Kim—"

"Welcome back to your throne, Jeon Jungkook," he murmured, his voice thick with something deeper than just admiration.

A laugh bubbled out of her, as the golden pieces continued to drift down, catching in her silky nightdress, in her loose hair. Then, without thinking, Jungkook launched herself forward, tackling him into the bed.

"Mrs Kim!" Taehyung yelped, his laughter ringing through the room as she buried her face in his chest, her arms wrapping around him tightly.

"This is my throne now," Jungkook declared against his shirt, her voice muffled but firm. "And I'm keeping it forever."

Taehyung chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in return. "Good," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss against her temple. "Because I was never letting you go anyway."

Jungkook's heart stuttered.

She had signed away her past. She had claimed her present.

And with Taehyung by her side, she was walking toward a future entirely her own.

Just as Jungkook was still marveling at the golden confetti, Taehyung suddenly snapped his fingers again. With a soft shimmer of light, a tiny, beautifully decorated cake appeared out of nowhere—right in his hands.

Jungkook's eyes widened as she took in the cake—white, elegant, adorned with pearls and a delicate silver crown perched perfectly on top.

It looked less like a dessert and more like something out of a royal banquet.

She blinked up at Taehyung, who was watching her with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself.

"You—" she started, then stopped, pressing her lips together as a laugh bubbled up.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you so overwhelmed by my perfect husband skills?"

Jungkook scoffed, crossing her arms as she gave him a deadpan look. "You literally magicked a cake out of nowhere."

"Correction," Taehyung drawled, carefully placing the cake on the bedside table. "I magicked your celebration cake out of nowhere. Because my wife deserves nothing but the grandest."

Jungkook laughed, watching as he took a knife—also conjured by magic, of course—and cut a small slice. He held it up to her lips.

"C'mon. Taste it, Your Highness."

Jungkook quirked an eyebrow at the nickname but leaned forward anyway, taking a bite. She met his eyes as she took the bite—soft, sweet, just like the moment itself.

Taehyung watched as Jungkook savored the bite, the delicate sweetness melting on her tongue. He rested his chin on his palm, observing her with an expression so tender it made her heart skip a beat.

"You know," he said, voice low and certain, "This represents the crown on you."

Jungkook paused mid-bite, staring at him.

Taehyung tilted his head, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before letting his fingers trail down to where the ribbon of her robe was tied.

"The one you were born with. The one you forgot you had. The one that no one—not time, not fate, not even those who wronged you—could ever take away from you."

Jungkook swallowed, a lump forming in her throat. She lowered the fork onto the plate, fingers trembling slightly. Her fingers curled around the blanket draped over her lap. His words settled deep inside her, like an undeniable truth she had never dared to claim for herself.

Taehyung leaned in closer. "You've always been a queen, Jungkook. You just finally have the throne to match."

Jungkook exhaled shakily, eyes glistening as she looked at him. No teasing smirk, no playful remarks—just pure sincerity in his expression.

"Mr Kim..."

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Eat your cake, love. Queens deserve their celebrations."

And Jungkook, for the first time in her life, truly felt like one.

Taehyung exhaled, a contented sigh leaving his lips as he leaned back against the headboard. His shoulders felt lighter, the invisible weight that had been pressing down on him for so long finally easing.

For years, the burden of his father's sins had clung to him, a silent, unshakable presence. But now, at least one of them had been corrected.

He had given Jungkook back what was rightfully hers.

He turned his head slightly, watching as Jungkook took small bites of the cake, savoring the sweetness. Her long lashes cast soft shadows on her cheeks, her fingers brushing away a stray crumb.

Funny. In the span of a few signatures, she had become richer than him.

Not just in money, but in land, in assets, in power.

The Jeon wealth was no joke—it stretched beyond the country, rooted in industries that had thrived for generations. And now, it all belonged to the beauty sitting beside him, who, up until a few hours ago, had never truly considered herself a part of it.

Jungkook must have sensed his gaze because she glanced up, one brow arching in suspicion. "What?"

Taehyung smirked. "Nothing."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes. "No, that look means something. Spill."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Just thinking how my wife is now officially richer than me."

Jungkook blinked. Then, she let out a short laugh, tossing the pen onto the bedside table. "Oh? That bothers you, Mr. Kim?"

"Not at all," he mused, resting an arm behind his head. "I think it's kind of hot."

Jungkook scoffed, rolling her eyes but the slight pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed. She leaned back against the pillows, crossing her arms.

"Kind of hot, huh?" she mused, tilting her head. "Is that what you're into now, Mr. Kim?"

Taehyung's smirk was lazy. "Mmm. Maybe," he murmured, gaze trailing down to where the satin of her nightdress hugged her figure. "My wife, rich, powerful, owning lands and businesses... It's very attractive."

Jungkook narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. "So, what? You want me to start calling you baby now?"

Taehyung let out a low chuckle, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze was lazy, slow as it traced the curves of her face before settling on her lips.

"I wouldn't mind," he mused, his voice dipping into something smoother. "Being your sugar baby."

Jungkook choked. Her breath caught in her throat, her entire body going stiff as she stared at him in absolute disbelief.

Did he just—?

Heat crept up her neck, rushing to her cheeks as she scrambled for a response. "You—!" she sputtered, grabbing the nearest pillow and whacking it against his chest. "Are you insane?!"

Taehyung barely flinched, letting out a deep laugh as the pillow made impact. He caught her wrist mid-swing, effortlessly tugging her closer until her balance tipped forward, forcing her to press a hand against his chest.

He smirked, looking completely unbothered. "What?" he drawled, his fingers brushing over the delicate curve of her wrist. "It's a reasonable offer. You're rich, and powerful. All you need now is a trophy husband to spoil."

Jungkook gaped at him, her lips parting, but no words came out.

This man. This ridiculous, intolerable, shameless man.

"Do you hear yourself, Kim Taehyung?" she demanded, struggling against his grip, though she wasn't really trying to escape. "Trophy husband? Sugar baby? Have you lost your mind?"

He hummed, pretending to consider her words. Then, as if completely unaffected by her flustered state, he leaned in just slightly, his voice turning almost too casual.

"Think about it, wifey. You handle the businesses, the finances, all the boring meetings. Meanwhile, I stay at home, looking handsome, waiting for you to come back to me every night."

Jungkook's mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again—before she groaned, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in frustration.

"Shut up," she muttered, her cheeks burning as she turned her face away, unable to meet his gaze.

Taehyung's smirk widened, satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

"Aw," he cooed, releasing her wrist to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Look at you. You love the idea, don't you?"

Jungkook shoved at his chest, scowling. "No, I do not."

Taehyung exhaled dramatically, resting a hand over his heart. "That hurts, Mrs. Kim. Here I was, offering to dedicate my entire life to being your adorable, doting househusband, and you reject me just like that?"

Jungkook stared at him, expression blank. "Adorable?" she repeated, her tone dripping with disbelief.

Taehyung, utterly unfazed, flashed her a shameless smile. "I can be—if you spoil me enough."

For exactly half a second, there was silence.

Then, a pillow smacked him square in the face.

Taehyung let out a muffled grunt, laughter bubbling up as the pillow slid off his head. He barely had time to recover before Jungkook huffed, arms crossed, her lips pressing into a faux frown.

"I should've made you sign a contract before marrying me," she muttered, shaking her head.

Taehyung, lounging comfortably, grinned. "Too late," he sang, reaching out to grab her wrist and tug her closer. "No take-backs, Mrs. Kim. You're stuck with me."

Jungkook sighed dramatically, but when her gaze met his, something softened in her expression.

Stuck with him.

A months ago, those words would have terrified her.

Now, they felt a lot like home.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, silence between them—not heavy, not suffocating, but something significant. Something real.

Jungkook had reclaimed what was stolen from her. Taehyung watched her, a slow warmth blooming in his chest. It was pride. Because after years of running, after years of being tossed around by fate, Jungkook finally had control.

Jungkook wasn't just Taehyung's wife.

Jungkook wasn't just someone bound by the decisions of men before her.

She was Jeon Jungkook—the rightful heir of Jeon Hyunbin, the owner of everything that had been stolen from her, a person who could finally live for herself.

For so long, she had fought battles she never should have had to. She had survived on strength she should have never been forced to muster. She had lived for others, for obligations, for circumstances outside her control.

But now?

Now, Jungkook could live for her own desires. Her own ambitions. Her own wants.

And, Taehyung was proud.

_______________________________

Which scenes do you all like the most?

Mr and Mrs kim's alone bedroom scenes
Or
Family scenes...

PS: 95% scenes of this book are in bedroom yet, mr and Mrs Kim aren't beyond kissing stage. 🥲😶‍🌫️