kooklovee

[kooklovee]

thankuuu💗🥰🫶

HOLD ON TO ME (m) - JJK

Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..

Can he make it up to you, or is it already too late?

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI

ONESHOT - 11k words

Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)

a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶

Masterlist kofi☕

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The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room. But its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.

You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it.. feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the huge windows.

Jungkook is late. Again.

You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.

He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.

Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.

But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.

You check the time—almost midnight.

He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.

You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.

And you’re so damn tired of breaking.

You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.

It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.

And now, it feels like you’re losing him.

The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.

But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

The clock hits midnight.

You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?

But there’s nothing.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.

So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.

But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.

You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.

You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.

And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?

----

You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.

Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His dark lashes cast faint shadows on his skin, and his lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.

You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.

Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.

Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.

Of course he remembers.

You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.

He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.

"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.

You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.

Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.

Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.

Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.

You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Then, with barely a glance in your direction, he mutters, "Shit, I need to get to the office."

The hope you held onto so desperately?

Gone.

You blink, your mind scrambling to catch up.

Maybe he's kidding. Maybe this is just one of his teasing games, the kind where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.

So you wait.

You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.

You wait for him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn't.

Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up. He moves through the motions—grabbing a fresh shirt from the dresser, checking his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.

The realization settles in. suffocating. He’s not playing. He’s not pretending. He really forgot.

And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.

----

The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.

Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.

He forgot.

The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.

But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.

Your throat tightens.

Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?

You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe you should remind him.

But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.

You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.

So you move. Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.

For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.

You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.

The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.

By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.

Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.

Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.

Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over. So, you pretend.

You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.

If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less. Maybe you won’t break in front of him.

And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”

His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.

You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.

But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.

Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long. like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time in days.

Then, he kisses you.

Warm & lingering. Like he actually means it. Like he actually feels it.

“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips, his voice deep, hushed.

You blink up at him.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”

And just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.

His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.

You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?

----

Jungkook moves around the house, gathering his things- his wallet, his keys. You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending to be busy, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

Before you can even respond, he’s already halfway through the living room, his focus elsewhere, his steps hurried.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.

Flashback

The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.

His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.

He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”

Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice deep and rough, sending you tumbling over the edge.

You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.

You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long. A little too intensely.

And then, barely above a whisper, like a secret meant only for you—he said, “I love you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.

But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.

“Say it back,” he grumbled.

“What?” you teased, laughing.

Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.

Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”

His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.

End of Flashback

Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.

The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.

You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.

Is this what your relationship has become?

Work, work, work. Always work.

It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.

But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?

You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?

Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.

You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.

Is this how life is going to be from now on?

Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.

But when?

When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?

Well, happy anniversary to you.

----

Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.

Your wedding ring.

For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.

Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.

Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.

"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."

A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.

How did you end up here?

----

Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.

Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.

The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.

It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts the quiet hum of his office.

“So you’re really here.”

Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Why?”

Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”

Jungkook hums absentmindedly, still typing, still lost in work. “Mmm.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”

Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like a punch to the gut, like ice spreading through his veins.

Fuck.

Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.

His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.

Anniversary?

No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.

November 22.

His wedding anniversary.

For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.

He’d forgotten.

Completely.

No hints, no reminders, no last-minute realization before heading out this morning. Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.

His wife.

But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.

His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.

You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.

Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.

His wife. His love. His anniversary.

And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.

How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?

Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”

Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”

“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—

Fuck.

He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”

Jungkook levels him with a glare, his voice lower, sharper. “Hyung.”

Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.

And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.

----

Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.

How the fuck did he forget?

His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.

“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.

“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”

“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”

A pause. “Sir?”

“Now,” he snaps.

There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.

His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”

“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.

What the fuck is he even doing?

No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.

His hands clench the wheel.

How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?

And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.

What if you’re done waiting?

Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.

He’s not losing you. He won’t.

----

Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.

His throat dries. “Baby?”

No answer.

He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.

A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.

You’re not here.

His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Straight to voicemail.

His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.

Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.

Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.

Did you leave?

No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—

He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.

But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.

You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?

His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.

Each time, the same response.

No, I haven’t seen her.

Did you check with—

Wait, what’s going on?

Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.

And he still had no idea where you were.

Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.

His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.

A small glint.

His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.

Your wedding ring.

Sitting there. Abandoned.

For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements—everything.

The air in the room feels heavier, suffocating. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.

You never took it off. Never.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward, slowly, almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.

His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..

Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?

The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.

Were you thinking about this before today?

How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?

A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.

He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.

Before it’s too late.

Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.

Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.

But just as his fingers reach for the handle—

The door swings open.

And there you are.

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, everything stills. His panic, his thoughts, his entire world narrowing to the sight of you standing in front of him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he moves.

He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.

"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused, hesitant.

But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

You don’t know what’s going on.

But Jungkook?

He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.

Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.

Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.

Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another quiet, shaky breath leaving him.

You don’t understand.

But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.

Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.

“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.

He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.

You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.

“I—” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”

You blink, his words settling in, but it takes you a moment to fully process them.

He thought you left him?

Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”

His breath is still uneven, his hands gripping his knees like he’s trying to ground himself. His eyes flick up to meet yours, confused, searching.

“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you, his body still tense, like his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.

His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…Then why was this on the couch?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

“I…” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.

Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.

“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.

“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”

Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”

You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Silence.

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.

He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.

He’s losing you.

And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.

He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.

The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”

His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.

He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.

And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it was happening until now.

“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.

His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”

Jungkook's breath is unsteady, his chest rising and falling too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.

He moves. Before you can react, his hands are cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”

His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.

“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”

His vulnerability shakes you to your core.

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”

Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.

Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.

Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”

Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with flowers, or gifts, or some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”

His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.

It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek—slow, hesitant, as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.

And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.

Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.

You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.

You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”

A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”

Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”

His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice is steady now. no hesitation, no doubt. Just quiet, determined love. And though the ache in your chest hasn’t fully faded, something shifts.

Because this time, you don’t just hear him. You believe him. Even if just a little.

Jungkook presses another lingering kiss against your knuckles, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in you. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"

“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”

His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.

While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now- a warmth that wasn’t there before.

----

By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.

He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.

Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.

You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.

“I…I’d made this.”

The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.

His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.

And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.

“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.

He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.

You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.

“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.

His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.

He doesn’t know if words are enough.

“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”

“Jungkook.”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His lips part in surprise, his rambling cut off as you rise onto your toes.

A gentle kiss on his lips.

Soft. Loving.

Tear-streaked and real.

Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

The kiss is slow, there's no desperation, no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.

Just this.

Just love.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm, like he’s grounding himself in your touch, afraid to let go. His lips part, like he wants to speak, but before he can, you whisper,

“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.

You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.

Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”

Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,

“I love you.”

This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.

Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.

You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.

And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.

You kiss him.

It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.

Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. It sends a familiar heat curling through you.

The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.

Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.

His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”

His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, grounding you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough. Afraid that he isn’t enough.

Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.

You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.

His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.

You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.

And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.

Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.

Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like he’s memorizing the feel of you all over again.

But you don’t want hesitation.

You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.

A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.

You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”

Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.

His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.

“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.

He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”

The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.

His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.

He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“My wife.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.

Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.

Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.

He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.

His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.

Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.

One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.

Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.

“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”

And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.

Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”

Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.

Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.

A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.

“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.

He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-

With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.

A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.

This is home.

Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.

Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.

It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.

And then, suddenly, you feel it.

A faint tremble against your body.

Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.

Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.

You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.

“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.

“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.

And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.

Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”

You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”

His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.

His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

CLAIMED (m) - Myg

"The only Min you'll ever get is this one."

Pairing - Yoongi x Reader

Genre - smut 18+, established relationship au, MDNI

Oneshot - 5k words

Warnings - yoongi's brother's reception, secret relationship, yoongi's aunt wants to set reader for her son🤪, jealous yoongi, Explicit smut - Hard dom yoongi, sub reader, chocking, mirror sex, unprotected sex, degradation, man handling, fingering, face fucking, spiting in mouth, edging, hair pulling, marking

a/n - hi n byee🫣

Masterlist kofi

---------------------------------------------------

The Min family estate is breathtaking, especially tonight. The glow of fairy lights, the grand chandeliers, with laughter and music filling the air.

You step out of the car, adjusting the delicate fabric of your dress. With one final glance at your reflection in the tinted window, you reach for your phone, fingers gliding over the screen.

You: just reached. where are you?

It takes only a few seconds before your boyfriend replies.

Yoon: 2nd floor. Left side of the hall

The moment you step inside it's filled with the scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne. Your lips curve slightly as you push through the crowd, eyes scanning the space.

It doesn't take long for you to find him.

Min Yoongi, standing near the far end of the ballroom, eyes already locked onto you like a magnet.

He’s dressed in a tailored black suit, crisp and perfect. One hand is tucked into his pocket while the other lazily holds a glass of whiskey, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive.

Those dark eyes roam over you, starting from the waves of your hair down to the delicate curve of your neckline. They trail lower, taking in the way your dress hugs every inch of your body. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips ever so slightly, making heat crawl up your skin.

Your phone buzzes again.

Yoon: You look beautiful

You bite your lip, glancing at him beneath your lashes.

You: And you look like trouble

The corner of his lips twitches, and even from across the room, you see the slight shake of his head.

A familiar voice calls your name.

“Finally! We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”

You turn to see your friends waving you over. You weave through the crowd smiling, and join them, instantly enveloped in chatter.

Taehyung’s already halfway through his drink, Jimin’s adjusting his blazer and Hoseok is grinning at you.

“You look stunning,” Jimin remarks. “Bet someone over there is losing his mind right now,” he says, giving you a knowing smirk.

You roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “Would you shut up?”

“Oh, come on,” Hoseok teases.

You can't deny though, because you can feel it too. Yoongi’s gaze.

“Must be so hard pretending you two aren’t together,” Taehyung adds, sighing dramatically. “Poor Yoongi hyung, watching you like a lovesick fool but having to act all cool and composed.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “We’ll tell his parents when we’re ready.”

And that’s the truth. His family is traditional, full of expectations, while Yoongi never cared much for their opinions. But still, you asked to wait before telling them. And he agreed, because this decision was yours to make together.

A fresh round of laughter pulls you from your thoughts, and you join in easily.

“Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung exclaims a bit dramatic, grinning as he lifts his glass.

Yoongi huffs, sliding effortlessly, his fingers grazing your waist just enough to make your breath hitch but not enough to be noticed by anyone else. His way of saying hi when he can’t say it out loud.

He just leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, just for you to hear, “You do look beautiful.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

----

The function moves along in a blur of clinking glasses, lively conversations. Yoongi -ever the reluctant center of attention, eventually takes the stage for a speech. His voice carrying warmth as he speaks about his brother and new beginnings.

And then, as quickly as he appeared, he’s swept away, pulled into conversations that demand his time- relatives, business associates.

Meanwhile, you remain with your friends. Jimin recounts a particularly embarrassing memory from their younger days, making Taehyung groan dramatically. Easy laughter fills amongst you.

After some time, you make your way toward the drinks table, the glass in your hand nearly empty. As you tilt your glass for a refill, a voice almost too-sweet cuts through the noise.

“My, my… such a lovely young woman all alone at the drinks table?”

You glance up, meeting the keen eyes of a lady, dressed in an elegant hanbok.

“You must be close to the Min family,” she continues, stepping beside you, her smile never faltering. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking yet.”

Your fingers pause around the stem of your glass, momentarily confused. You’re certain you’ve never seen her before. Not the few gatherings that you've attended along with your mutual friends, neither in any of the rare photos Yoongi has shared with you. But still, you offer a polite smile and a slight bow in greeting.

“Ah.. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” you say. “But it’s lovely to meet you.”

She lets out an amused laugh, “Oh, dear, that’s because I don’t visit often,” she says, waving a delicate hand. “But I am part of the family. Yoongi’s aunt.”

Your grip on your glass tightens just slightly. Yoongi’s aunt. You nod politely, offering a small smile. “Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you. I'm Han Y/n.”

She hums, eyes scanning you in a way that feels far too observant. “I noticed you earlier with Yoongi’s friends,” she says, taking a delicate sip of her drink. “You seem quite close to them.”

“They’re good friends of mine,” you reply keeping your tone light.

She hums again, a knowing glint in her eyes. “You’re quite a lovely girl. Well-mannered, and beautiful too.” Her voice is warm, almost too sweet. “It’s a shame someone in the family hasn’t snatched you up already.”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by her sudden comment. “Oh?”

She nods, setting her glass down on the nearby table. “My son, Seojun-ah—my brilliant boy. He just returned from New York a few months ago. Studied and worked there for years. Hardworking boy.” She smiles as she continues, “In my opinion... you two would make a wonderful pair.”

Ah. So that’s where this is going.

You school your expression, forcing a polite smile. “That’s... kind of you to say.”

She leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “He’s single, you know. And someone like you—” she gestures vaguely, as if you’re the perfect ideal, “—would be perfect for him.”

You grip your glass a little tighter, willing yourself to stay calm. “That’s flattering,” you reply, carefully measured. “But I’m not really looking for anything like that right now.”

Her smile falters for only a fraction of a second before she recovers, waving a hand. “Oh, nonsense. A woman like you shouldn’t be single for long.” She tilts her head, watching you closely. “Unless, of course... you’re already seeing someone?”

Just as you part your lips to respond, a familiar voice cuts in.

“Auntie, where have you been so long!?”

You turn to see Taehyung, his signature smile already in place as he slides into the conversation.

The aunt’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh, Taehyung! It’s been so long. Look at you! so handsome as always.”

Taehyung grins, “You flatter me, Auntie. Anyways, what’s going on here?”

The woman chuckles, tilting her head toward you. “I was just asking her if she’s single or maybe interested in meeting my son.” Her tone is light with teasing.

“Oh, she’s totally single.”

Your head snaps toward him, eyes widening in silent betrayal. He doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in his gaze.

The aunt's face lights up with excitement at Taehyung’s words. “Really? That’s wonderful!” She claps her hands together, already looking around. “Let me introduce you to Seojun. He must be here somewhere.”

Your heart stutters, a flicker of panic rising in your chest. Shit.

You shoot Taehyung a murderous glare, but the bastard only sips his drink, eyes glinting with pure mischief. You know he’s enjoying this way too much.

“That’s really not necessary—” You start, voice edged with nervous laughter, but the aunt isn’t even listening. Her eyes scan the ballroom eagerly, as if his son will magically appear at any moment.

“Well, this sounds like a lovely setup, but I promised someone a dance,” Taehyung, your so-called friend is already retreating with a shit-eating grin. “Have fun, you two!”

Your glare could burn holes through him, but he’s gone before you can protest. Your fingers tighten around your glass. You need to find a way out of this. Fast.

“There he is! Seojun-ah!” The aunt’s delighted voice rings out as she waves eagerly.

Your stomach drops as a man maybe around Yoongi's age, turns toward the call, eyes narrowing in confusion before he approaches.

He’s tall, well-dressed, and honestly quite handsome, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that you know exactly what’s happening, and by the look on his face when his mother introduces you, so does he.

"This is Y/n, sweetheart!” his mother exclaims, practically radiating excitement. “Such a lovely girl. You two should chat, I have a feeling you’ll get along very well.”

“I’ll leave you to it! No need to thank me,” she's disappearing into the crowd before either of you can react.

Seojun chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I know what my mom’s trying to do..” His eyes flicker with mild embarrassment before he sighs. “Sorry if she made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to entertain this.”

He seems genuinely shy, his words coming out in a rushed ramble as he struggles to navigate the awkward situation.

You offer him a small smile, trying to ease his nerves. "I wasn’t expecting it, but..” You glance around briefly, hoping for an escape. “She seems too... enthusiastic?”

Seojun lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “That’s one way to put it.” He takes a sip of his drink, still looking slightly mortified. “She’s been on this matchmaking spree lately. Thinks it’s her life’s mission to get me married off.”

You chuckle at that.

Meanwhile, across the ballroom, Yoongi strides back toward your group, his gaze scanning for you instinctively. But a frown tugs at his lips.

“Where is she?”

Jimin and Hoseok exchange glances, poorly hiding their amused smirks. Taehyung, however, doesn’t bother to hold back his laughter.

“Oh, hyung,” he drawls, draping an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder dramatically. “Your dear girlfriend is currently on her way to becoming your sister-in-law.”

Jimin finally loses it, chuckling as he nods toward the far side of the room. “One of your aunts decided she’d be the perfect match for Seojun.”

Hoseok chimes in, shaking his head. “She just pulled her aside like it was fate.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards where you stand. The moment he spots you, with Seojun, no less, looking all polite and engaged in conversation and that makes something sharp coils in his chest.

His fingers flex, tightening around his wine glass, an odd heat creeping up his spine.

It’s irrational, really. He knows you. Knows you’re probably just being your usual, kind self. But the fact that someone else—some other man—is standing in front of you, looking at you like you’re something to consider, doesn’t sit well with him.

Seojun is laughing lightly, and you’re chuckling too—chuckling.

“Hyung,” Taehyung drawls, watching the way his expression darkens. “You good?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, face almost unreadable as he downs the rest of his drink in one smooth motion.

You offer Seojun a polite smile, searching for a way to wrap this up without seeming rude. "It was nice talking to you, but I should get back to my friends," you say lightly.

Seojun, still a little flustered from the situation his mother put him in, nods quickly. "Oh, of course! Yeah, no worries," he says, "Enjoy the rest of the night."

You give him a small nod before turning away as relief washes over you. The moment you step closer to your group, the playful energy among them is unmistakable.

Taehyung is already smirking ready to tease, but before he can open his mouth, you shoot him a glare that makes him chuckle instead.

“So, how was your first meeting with your future husband?”

You shoot him a dry look. “Shut up.”

Jimin snickers beside you. “You two really did look good together, though.”

You roll your eyes, shifting slightly on your feet. Yoongi sets his drink down and just as you open your mouth, “Yoongi—”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply mutters, “Excuse me,” and turns away, heading toward a group of guests like nothing just happened.

Huh?

Did he just.. walk away? Just like that?

You stare at his retreating back, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. This man. You weren’t even the one who dragged yourself into that conversation with the guy. It’s not like you were flirting! If Yoongi’s gonna be all broody and distant over something that wasn’t even your fault—

You huff, crossing your arms. If he wants to play the ignoring game, so will you.

The lights dim, the dance floor filled with soft music. Even Yoongi’s parents share a brief dance, their laughter blending with the sweet ambiance of the evening.

Yet, Yoongi still hasn’t spoken to you since he left. Not that you care.

The crowd stands watching, some cheering for the dancing couples. Just as you shift, thinking about moving elsewhere, someone stumbles into you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the person says quickly. You turn to see Seojun, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before he chuckles.

“It’s okay,” you say, offering a small smile. He seems like he’s about to excuse himself when you hear a very familiar voice beside him.

“Oh my! I knew it!” she exclaims excitedly. “You two were bound to click!”

Your stomach drops.

She's already nudging her son towards you, before you can react.

“Ask her to dance!” she insists, practically beaming.

Your eyes widen slightly, panic bubbling up. How the hell do you keep finding yourself in these situations tonight?

He almost pleads with his eyes for his mother to let it go, but she remains insistent, nudging both of you onto the dance floor.

Realizing there’s no way out, Seojun clears his throat, his shyness giving way to a small smile.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

Your heart beats faster—definitely not from excitement but from sheer disbelief at how the night keeps unfolding.

Yoongi was busy handling some final wedding details when Namjoon nudges his arm.

"Isn't that Y/n?"

Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards the dance floor, scanning the crowd until they land on you.

And just like that, his entire demeanor shifts.

There you were, on the dance floor. With Seojun. His arm lightly placed on your waist while your hand rested in his. Yoongi watched as you let out a small laugh, though your body language still seemed slightly stiff. That didn’t matter.

The sight of you with someone else was enough to make something simmer inside him.

"Damn…you look like you’re about to murder someone." Namjoon chuckled.

"Shut up, Joon."

Your laughter fades slightly, and almost instinctively, as your eyes flicker over to Yoongi’s.

The second your gazes meet, your breath catches. His darkened eyes are locked onto you. Even from across the room, the weight of his stare is suffocating. His grip on his drink is tight, jaw clenched. You can practically feel the tension radiating off him.

Seojun says something with a chuckle, "I don't think we've had a formal introduction, I'm Min Seojun—"

But you barely register it. Your heartbeat picks up, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of everything. The placement of Seojun’s hand, the closeness of the dance, the way Yoongi’s expression darkens further with each passing second.

You take a deep breath, deciding you’ve had enough. You quickly scan the crowd, searching for Yoongi's aunt, hoping she’s wandered off elsewhere. When you don’t spot her, you take it as your cue to end this.

Slipping out of Seojun’s light hold, you step back offering him a polite but firm smile. “I'm sorry, I think I should leave—”

You turn before finishing, weaving your way through the mass of people to find an open space away from the dance floor. The air feels cooler here, giving you a brief moment to collect yourself. Just as you exhale, a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Y/n,” Seojun’s voice is gentle as he calls out, his grip enough to make you turn around.

“I… are you free this weekend?” he asks suddenly, his voice steady despite the slight pink dusting his cheeks.

You blink, completely taken aback.

The last thing you expected was for him to ask you out. Your lips part, ready to form a rejection—

But you don’t get the chance.

Because before you can even utter a word, another hand snatches yours away from Seojun’s grasp.

“She’s not.”

Your breath catches as you whip your head around, your wide eyes meeting Yoongi’s. His fingers are wrapped securely around your hand. His jaw is clenched, the muscle ticking as his stormy gaze remains locked onto Seojun.

The voice was filled with an unmistakable edge which startles Seojun, clearly caught off guard. His gaze flickers between the two of you, slowly processing the situation—the way Yoongi's hand hold yours.

“Oh…okay,” Seojun mutters after a beat, letting out a slight awkward chuckle. His eyes dart to you once more, lingering for a second before he turns back to Yoongi.

“See ya around, Hyung,” he says, forcing a half-smile before finally stepping away.

You glance up at your boyfriend, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yoongi—”

“Don't."

Yoongi’s grip on your wrist is possessive as he tugs you through the crowd. Your heart pounds in your chest, the buzz of music and laughter fading into the background as he leads you down the dimly lit hallway.

His silence is deafening, the tension in the air between you growing further.

“Yoongi—” You try to call his name, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. His fingers tighten around your wrist just enough to make you swallow your words. You don’t know if it’s jealousy, anger, or something deeper that’s driving him right now.

A door swings open, and Yoongi pulls you inside. Turning you around and pressing you against the slammed door.

“You think this is funny?” His arms cage you in, palms flat beside your head as he leans in. His breath is warm against your skin, but there’s nothing soft about the way he speaks.

Your voice wavers slightly. “Yoongi.. I - your aunt forced us to dance—”

“Forced you?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief, his dark gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “Did she force you to smile at him too? To let him touch you?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you say quickly, your hands pressing lightly against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His body is warm, and his scent fucking intoxicating.

Yoongi scoffs, his fingers curling against the door beside your head. “Then what was it like, huh?” His voice is lower now, rough with something unreadable. “Because from where I stood, it sure as hell looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

You blink up at him, your heart hammering. “You know I didn't mean it any other way,” you defend, your voice softer now.

Yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, his tongue swiping over his lower lip in frustration.

You barely get his name out before his lips crash onto yours, cutting off whatever you were about to say. A shocked gasp escapes you, but he doesn’t give you a second to process as his hands grip your waist, pulling you impossibly close as his lips move against yours with almost a punishing force.

Your fingers tighten around his blazer. His body presses against yours. The kiss is fiery, nothing like the gentle ones he’s given you before.

His teeth graze your lower lip, and you whimper softly, your knees nearly buckling.

Yoongi growls lowly at the sound, one of his hands sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs, making your head spin.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice low, as he growls.

You look up at him, panting softly, yet eyes laced with something playful. You’ve never seen Yoongi this worked up. In all the years you’ve been together, he’s always been the calm one. But fuck, seeing him loose his cool, it’s turning you on more than you care to admit.

“Didn’t know you could be this jealous,” you murmur a breathless whisper meant to provoke.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, his jaw ticking.

“Don’t test me, princess,” he breathes, his voice low with warning as his hand slowly wraps around your throat, enough to make you feel the warmth.

“You don’t want to play with fire.”

Your breath hitches at the sensation, but the way your thighs clench in response betrays your thoughts.

“But I want to,” you whisper.

And just like that, the last thread of restraint snaps within Yoongi.

Yoongi’s breath fans against your ear as he leans in, voice like gravel. “You asked for it.”

A low groan rumbles from deep in his chest as he tugs you to the mirror counter, spinning you around, pressing his body flush against yours.

His hands grip the zipper of your dress, yanking it down roughly. The fabric pools at your feet, leaving you standing there in your panties and bra. You catch your breath, eyes wide as his hungry gaze roams over you.

He bends you forward over the counter, one hand steadying your waist. Then, with a ruthless flick, he shoves your panties down, tearing them in the process.

You gasp sharply, “Yoongi!”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

His fingers already dig inside you, rough, stroking deep and fast. You moan his name, your body arching involuntarily against the counter.

He curls his fingers, pressing that perfect spot inside you while his thumb rubs fiercely over your clit. The sensations swirl and crash through you. Your fingers tangle into his long hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you moan his name, breathless and desperate.

His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. You can’t control the soft cries that slip past your lips, but the sound only makes him work you harder.

Biting down on his shoulder, you try to muffle your moans, he growls, hands gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My little slut, aren't you” he hisses, voice dripping with raw possession. “Always soaking wet for me.”

Your moans grow louder, trembling on the edge. He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving you aching and desperate.

“Get on your knees.”

Your legs are wobbly but you obey without hesitation.

He unzips his pants, the sight of him already driving you wild. His cock stands hard and proud, and you feel a fresh rush of heat flood your core.

Yoongi’s gaze never leaves you as he grips himself slowly stroking that make your breath catch.

He cups your chin with another hand tilting your head up.

“Open.” Yoongi leans in, spitting into your mouth. You swallow instinctively, meeting his gaze with a mix of submission and desire.

“Good girl.”

Yoongi’s gaze burns down at you, eyes sharpening as they lock onto yours. His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face up like you belonged to him, because you fucking do.

“You know the safe word, right?”

You swallow hard, nerves and need tangling together as you nod.

He pushes forward, sliding into you with a deliberate force that took your breath away.

His hand finds your hair, fingers threading firmly through the strands, pulling you closer. “Look at you,” he growls under his breath, his hips rolling deeper. “Taking me so well.”

His lips part in a guttural groan, head tilting back.

“Fuck...” he breathed out, voice ragged, “That mouth is made for me, yeah.”

He was claiming you with every thrust, every touch, every breath, and you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

Your throat tightens further with each controlled roll of his hips, the stretch forcing little whimpers from you.

A choked gag slips out as he sinks deeper.

You blink up through watery lashes, lips stretching around him as you look up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

His own gaze burned into yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses, slipping his cock out.

You gasp at the loss, lips swollen.

You let out a soft, startled sound as he hoists you up onto the cool counter, your back hits the mirror behind the vanity, and Yoongi stands between your thighs.

His palm slide up the inside of your thigh, forcing them open wider.

He drags the swollen head of his cock along your folds, slick with your arousal. His other hand came to your jaw. One deep thrust and you cry out his name, and Yoongi captures it in a messy kiss.

Your gasp was sharp, ripped straight from your lungs as he bottomed out inside you, the stretch making your eyes squeeze shut—but Yoongi didn’t let you hide.

His body was pressed tightly between your thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the steamy glass.

“Look at you,” he growls, thrusting hard, “Fucking dumb on my cock.”

You whimper in response.

“You think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he hisses, lips brushing your ear.

You shook your head frantically, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, “N-No, Yoongi—only you.”

“That’s right,” he growled, pace unrelenting. “You’re mine. This sweet little pussy, all mine."

He grabs your thighs, hoisting you closer to the edge as his thrusts turns downright brutal.

Your head falls back with a sobbed moan, mouth open, drool trailing from the corner of your lips as your walls clenched tighter.

“I—Yoongi, I’m close,” you gasp, voice high and wrecked, each breath punched out of you with the way he slams into you over and over, your thighs trembling around his hips.

Of course he knows. He feels the way you’re fluttering around him, pulling him in, desperate to tip over.

“Not yet,” he growls, voice rough in your ear.

You let out a broken sound, frustration spilling into a sob, your nails digging into his shoulders. But he’s already pulling out, your body twitching from the sudden emptiness.

Yoongi grabs your waist and slides you off the counter.

Your legs barely hold you up as he spins you around, your palms splayed on the mirror, your cheek flushed against the surface. His hand guides your hips back, arching you until you’re right where he wants you.

One ruthless thrust that has your eyes flying open, a loud, helpless moan spilling from your lips. “Fuck,” you cry out, your breath fogging the mirror. “Yoongi—”

His mouth finds your neck, teeth sinking into your skin with a sharp bite that has you clenching around him instantly.

He groans at that, sucking a mark into your skin.

“Mine,” he snarls against your throat.

His hand slides up your chest, your sternum and closes firmly around your throat, just enough to own you. His body is burning against yours, muscles tense, heat radiating between you.

“Open your eyes,” he growls.

Your lashes flutter. You look wrecked. Your gaze meets his through the mirror. Yoongi's dark eyes locked onto you, jaw clenched as he rasps against your ear.

“The only Min you’ll ever get is this one.”

You clench around him so hard it makes both of you groan. Your legs buckle, body begging to come undone.

“You wanna come, baby?” he whispers. “Say it.”

The grip on your throat sends heat straight through you. You nod, trembling, as your voice cracks, “Y-Yes, Yoongi please—”

His free hand slides down your front, trailing between your thighs, already soaked and trembling and finds your clit.

Your moan was filthy, echoing off the walls. You couldn't even try to bite it back.

If anyone was outside the door, there’d be no doubt about what was happening in here. The obscene sounds of his hips slamming into you, your cries, was undeniable. Yoongi didn’t care. In fact, it only spurred him on. “Louder,” he hissed into your ear. “Let them fucking hear who owns you.”

His fingers moved in merciless, dragging you faster toward the edge than you could handle.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

Your body trembled so hard it was barely standing, your palms slipping on the mirror as you braced yourself, tears sliding down your flushed cheeks. His cock pounded into you, filling you so deep you swore you felt him everywhere.

You sobbed out his name, gasping.

And Yoongi was right there, mouth at your ear, voice low and dark as sin.

“Come for me, baby. Ruin this mirror. Ruin yourself."

Your orgasm hits you so intense it robs you of breath. Your body locks up, trembling hard around him, and you scream his name like it’s the only word you know, your voice shattering under the force of it. Your walls pulse around him, clenching with desperate rhythm, and he groans.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, hips crashing against you one final time. “All mine.”

He buries himself deep spilling inside you with a broken curse.

His forehead drops against the side of your head.

Tears stream down your face from the overwhelming release, legs barely holding you upright.

His cock still twitches inside you.

He slips out of you carefully, catching your body as it slumps forward, cradling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles over your bare back.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing your temple. “You did so fucking good. I got you.”

Your tears wet his neck as you try to calm down. His thumb brushes your cheek, catching the tear trails.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod, sniffling as he’s rubs your back.

“I might intentionally piss you off sometime if it gets you like this.” You manage to speak after a moment.

You feel him pause for a second. Then a dangerous chuckle rumbles from his chest, as he looks down at you.

Those dark eyes flicker with something primal, half warning, half promise.

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, as leans in.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “Because you know I’ll fucking ruin you all over again.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily. When Min Yoongi says that, you know he means it.

Especially after tonight.

[kooklovee]

CLAIMED (m) - Myg

"The only Min you'll ever get is this one."

Pairing - Yoongi x Reader

Genre - smut 18+, established relationship au, MDNI

Oneshot - 5k words

Warnings - yoongi's brother's reception, secret relationship, yoongi's aunt wants to set reader for her son🤪, jealous yoongi, Explicit smut - Hard dom yoongi, sub reader, chocking, mirror sex, unprotected sex, degradation, man handling, fingering, face fucking, spiting in mouth, edging, crying, hair pulling, marking

a/n - hi n byee🫣

divider credit - @uzmacchiato

Masterlist kofi

---------------------------------------------------

The Min family estate is breathtaking, especially tonight. The glow of fairy lights, the grand chandeliers, with laughter and music filling the air.

You step out of the car, adjusting the delicate fabric of your dress. With one final glance at your reflection in the tinted window, you reach for your phone, fingers gliding over the screen.

You: just reached. where are you?

It takes only a few seconds before your boyfriend replies.

Yoon: 2nd floor. Left side of the hall

The moment you step inside it's filled with the scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne. Your lips curve slightly as you push through the crowd, eyes scanning the space.

It doesn't take long for you to find him.

Min Yoongi, standing near the far end of the ballroom, eyes already locked onto you like a magnet.

He’s dressed in a tailored black suit, crisp and perfect. One hand is tucked into his pocket while the other lazily holds a glass of whiskey, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive.

Those dark eyes roam over you, starting from the waves of your hair down to the delicate curve of your neckline. They trail lower, taking in the way your dress hugs every inch of your body. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips ever so slightly, making heat crawl up your skin.

Your phone buzzes again.

Yoon: You look beautiful

You bite your lip, glancing at him beneath your lashes.

You: And you look like trouble

The corner of his lips twitches, and even from across the room, you see the slight shake of his head.

A familiar voice calls your name.

“Finally! We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”

You turn to see your friends waving you over. You weave through the crowd smiling, and join them, instantly enveloped in chatter.

Taehyung’s already halfway through his drink, Jimin’s adjusting his blazer and Hoseok is grinning at you.

“You look stunning,” Jimin remarks. “Bet someone over there is losing his mind right now,” he says, giving you a knowing smirk.

You roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “Would you shut up?”

“Oh, come on,” Hoseok teases.

You can't deny though, because you can feel it too. Yoongi’s gaze.

“Must be so hard pretending you two aren’t together,” Taehyung adds, sighing dramatically. “Poor Yoongi hyung, watching you like a lovesick fool but having to act all cool and composed.”

You shake your head, laughing softly. “We’ll tell his parents when we’re ready.”

And that’s the truth. His family is traditional, full of expectations, while Yoongi never cared much for their opinions. But still, you asked to wait before telling them. And he agreed, because this decision was yours to make together.

A fresh round of laughter pulls you from your thoughts, and you join in easily.

“Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung exclaims a bit dramatic, grinning as he lifts his glass.

Yoongi huffs, sliding effortlessly, his fingers grazing your waist just enough to make your breath hitch but not enough to be noticed by anyone else. His way of saying hi when he can’t say it out loud.

He just leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, just for you to hear, “You do look beautiful.”

And just like that, you’re gone.

----

The function moves along in a blur of clinking glasses, lively conversations. Yoongi -ever the reluctant center of attention, eventually takes the stage for a speech. His voice carrying warmth as he speaks about his brother and new beginnings.

And then, as quickly as he appeared, he’s swept away, pulled into conversations that demand his time- relatives, business associates.

Meanwhile, you remain with your friends. Jimin recounts a particularly embarrassing memory from their younger days, making Taehyung groan dramatically. Easy laughter fills amongst you.

After some time, you make your way toward the drinks table, the glass in your hand nearly empty. As you tilt your glass for a refill, a voice almost too-sweet cuts through the noise.

“My, my… such a lovely young woman all alone at the drinks table?”

You glance up, meeting the keen eyes of a lady, dressed in an elegant hanbok.

“You must be close to the Min family,” she continues, stepping beside you, her smile never faltering. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking yet.”

Your fingers pause around the stem of your glass, momentarily confused. You’re certain you’ve never seen her before. Not the few gatherings that you've attended along with your mutual friends, neither in any of the rare photos Yoongi has shared with you. But still, you offer a polite smile and a slight bow in greeting.

“Ah.. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” you say. “But it’s lovely to meet you.”

She lets out an amused laugh, “Oh, dear, that’s because I don’t visit often,” she says, waving a delicate hand. “But I am part of the family. Yoongi’s aunt.”

Your grip on your glass tightens just slightly. Yoongi’s aunt. You nod politely, offering a small smile. “Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you. I'm Han Y/n.”

She hums, eyes scanning you in a way that feels far too observant. “I noticed you earlier with Yoongi’s friends,” she says, taking a delicate sip of her drink. “You seem quite close to them.”

“They’re good friends of mine,” you reply keeping your tone light.

She hums again, a knowing glint in her eyes. “You’re quite a lovely girl. Well-mannered, and beautiful too.” Her voice is warm, almost too sweet. “It’s a shame someone in the family hasn’t snatched you up already.”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by her sudden comment. “Oh?”

She nods, setting her glass down on the nearby table. “My son, Seojun-ah—my brilliant boy. He just returned from New York a few months ago. Studied and worked there for years. Hardworking boy.” She smiles as she continues, “In my opinion... you two would make a wonderful pair.”

Ah. So that’s where this is going.

You school your expression, forcing a polite smile. “That’s... kind of you to say.”

She leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “He’s single, you know. And someone like you—” she gestures vaguely, as if you’re the perfect ideal, “—would be perfect for him.”

You grip your glass a little tighter, willing yourself to stay calm. “That’s flattering,” you reply, carefully measured. “But I’m not really looking for anything like that right now.”

Her smile falters for only a fraction of a second before she recovers, waving a hand. “Oh, nonsense. A woman like you shouldn’t be single for long.” She tilts her head, watching you closely. “Unless, of course... you’re already seeing someone?”

Just as you part your lips to respond, a familiar voice cuts in.

“Auntie, where have you been so long!?”

You turn to see Taehyung, his signature smile already in place as he slides into the conversation.

The aunt’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh, Taehyung! It’s been so long. Look at you! so handsome as always.”

Taehyung grins, “You flatter me, Auntie. Anyways, what’s going on here?”

The woman chuckles, tilting her head toward you. “I was just asking her if she’s single or maybe interested in meeting my son.” Her tone is light with teasing.

“Oh, she’s totally single.”

Your head snaps toward him, eyes widening in silent betrayal. He doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in his gaze.

The aunt's face lights up with excitement at Taehyung’s words. “Really? That’s wonderful!” She claps her hands together, already looking around. “Let me introduce you to Seojun. He must be here somewhere.”

Your heart stutters, a flicker of panic rising in your chest. Shit.

You shoot Taehyung a murderous glare, but the bastard only sips his drink, eyes glinting with pure mischief. You know he’s enjoying this way too much.

“That’s really not necessary—” You start, voice edged with nervous laughter, but the aunt isn’t even listening. Her eyes scan the ballroom eagerly, as if his son will magically appear at any moment.

“Well, this sounds like a lovely setup, but I promised someone a dance,” Taehyung, your so-called friend is already retreating with a shit-eating grin. “Have fun, you two!”

Your glare could burn holes through him, but he’s gone before you can protest. Your fingers tighten around your glass. You need to find a way out of this. Fast.

“There he is! Seojun-ah!” The aunt’s delighted voice rings out as she waves eagerly.

Your stomach drops as a man maybe around Yoongi's age, turns toward the call, eyes narrowing in confusion before he approaches.

He’s tall, well-dressed, and honestly quite handsome, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that you know exactly what’s happening, and by the look on his face when his mother introduces you, so does he.

"This is Y/n, sweetheart!” his mother exclaims, practically radiating excitement. “Such a lovely girl. You two should chat, I have a feeling you’ll get along very well.”

“I’ll leave you to it! No need to thank me,” she's disappearing into the crowd before either of you can react.

Seojun chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I know what my mom’s trying to do..” His eyes flicker with mild embarrassment before he sighs. “Sorry if she made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to entertain this.”

He seems genuinely shy, his words coming out in a rushed ramble as he struggles to navigate the awkward situation.

You offer him a small smile, trying to ease his nerves. "I wasn’t expecting it, but..” You glance around briefly, hoping for an escape. “She seems too... enthusiastic?”

Seojun lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “That’s one way to put it.” He takes a sip of his drink, still looking slightly mortified. “She’s been on this matchmaking spree lately. Thinks it’s her life’s mission to get me married off.”

You chuckle at that.

Meanwhile, across the ballroom, Yoongi strides back toward your group, his gaze scanning for you instinctively. But a frown tugs at his lips.

“Where is she?”

Jimin and Hoseok exchange glances, poorly hiding their amused smirks. Taehyung, however, doesn’t bother to hold back his laughter.

“Oh, hyung,” he drawls, draping an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder dramatically. “Your dear girlfriend is currently on her way to becoming your sister-in-law.”

Jimin finally loses it, chuckling as he nods toward the far side of the room. “One of your aunts decided she’d be the perfect match for Seojun.”

Hoseok chimes in, shaking his head. “She just pulled her aside like it was fate.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards where you stand. The moment he spots you, with Seojun, no less, looking all polite and engaged in conversation and that makes something sharp coils in his chest.

His fingers flex, tightening around his wine glass, an odd heat creeping up his spine.

It’s irrational, really. He knows you. Knows you’re probably just being your usual, kind self. But the fact that someone else—some other man—is standing in front of you, looking at you like you’re something to consider, doesn’t sit well with him.

Seojun is laughing lightly, and you’re chuckling too—chuckling.

“Hyung,” Taehyung drawls, watching the way his expression darkens. “You good?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, face almost unreadable as he downs the rest of his drink in one smooth motion.

You offer Seojun a polite smile, searching for a way to wrap this up without seeming rude. "It was nice talking to you, but I should get back to my friends," you say lightly.

Seojun, still a little flustered from the situation his mother put him in, nods quickly. "Oh, of course! Yeah, no worries," he says, "Enjoy the rest of the night."

You give him a small nod before turning away as relief washes over you. The moment you step closer to your group, the playful energy among them is unmistakable.

Taehyung is already smirking ready to tease, but before he can open his mouth, you shoot him a glare that makes him chuckle instead.

“So, how was your first meeting with your future husband?”

You shoot him a dry look. “Shut up.”

Jimin snickers beside you. “You two really did look good together, though.”

You roll your eyes, shifting slightly on your feet. Yoongi sets his drink down and just as you open your mouth, “Yoongi—”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply mutters, “Excuse me,” and turns away, heading toward a group of guests like nothing just happened.

Huh?

Did he just.. walk away? Just like that?

You stare at his retreating back, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. This man. You weren’t even the one who dragged yourself into that conversation with the guy. It’s not like you were flirting! If Yoongi’s gonna be all broody and distant over something that wasn’t even your fault—

You huff, crossing your arms. If he wants to play the ignoring game, so will you.

The lights dim, the dance floor filled with soft music. Even Yoongi’s parents share a brief dance, their laughter blending with the sweet ambiance of the evening.

Yet, Yoongi still hasn’t spoken to you since he left. Not that you care.

The crowd stands watching, some cheering for the dancing couples. Just as you shift, thinking about moving elsewhere, someone stumbles into you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the person says quickly. You turn to see Seojun, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before he chuckles.

“It’s okay,” you say, offering a small smile. He seems like he’s about to excuse himself when you hear a very familiar voice beside him.

“Oh my! I knew it!” she exclaims excitedly. “You two were bound to click!”

Your stomach drops.

She's already nudging her son towards you.

“Ask her to dance!” she insists, practically beaming.

Your eyes widen slightly, panic bubbling up. How the hell do you keep finding yourself in these situations tonight?

He almost pleads with his eyes for his mother to let it go, but she remains insistent, nudging both of you onto the dance floor.

Realizing there’s no way out, Seojun clears his throat, his shyness giving way to a small smile.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks.

Your heart beats faster—definitely not from excitement but from sheer disbelief at how the night keeps unfolding.

Yoongi was busy handling some final wedding details when Namjoon nudges his arm.

"Isn't that Y/n?"

Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards the dance floor, scanning the crowd until they land on you.

And just like that, his entire demeanor shifts.

There you were, on the dance floor. With Seojun. His arm lightly placed on your waist while your hand rested in his. Yoongi watched as you let out a small laugh, though your body language still seemed slightly stiff. That didn’t matter.

The sight of you with someone else was enough to make something simmer inside him.

"Damn…you look like you’re about to murder someone." Namjoon chuckled.

"Shut up, Joon."

Your laughter fades slightly, and almost instinctively, as your eyes flicker over to Yoongi’s.

The second your gazes meet, your breath catches. His darkened eyes are locked onto you. Even from across the room, the weight of his stare is suffocating. His grip on his drink is tight, jaw clenched. You can practically feel the tension radiating off him.

Seojun says something with a chuckle, "I don't think we've had a formal introduction, I'm Min Seojun—"

But you barely register it. Your heartbeat picks up, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of everything. The placement of Seojun’s hand, the closeness of the dance, the way Yoongi’s expression darkens further with each passing second.

You take a deep breath, deciding you’ve had enough. You quickly scan the crowd, searching for Yoongi's aunt, hoping she’s wandered off elsewhere. When you don’t spot her, you take it as your cue to end this.

Slipping out of Seojun’s light hold, you step back offering him a polite but firm smile. “I'm sorry, I think I should leave—”

You turn before finishing, weaving your way through the mass of people to find an open space away from the dance floor. The air feels cooler here, giving you a brief moment to collect yourself. Just as you exhale, a hand wraps around your wrist.

“Y/n,��� Seojun’s voice is gentle as he calls out, his grip enough to make you turn around.

“I… are you free this weekend?” he asks suddenly, his voice steady despite the slight pink dusting his cheeks.

You blink, completely taken aback.

The last thing you expected was for him to ask you out. Your lips part, ready to form a rejection—

But you don’t get the chance.

Because before you can even utter a word, another hand snatches yours away from Seojun’s grasp.

“She’s not.”

Your breath catches as you whip your head around, your wide eyes meeting Yoongi’s. His fingers are wrapped securely around your hand. His jaw is clenched, the muscle ticking as his stormy gaze remains locked onto Seojun.

The voice was filled with an unmistakable edge which startles Seojun, clearly caught off guard. His gaze flickers between the two of you, slowly processing the situation—the way Yoongi's hand hold yours.

“Oh…okay,” Seojun mutters after a beat, letting out a slight awkward chuckle. His eyes dart to you once more, lingering for a second before he turns back to Yoongi.

“See ya around, Hyung,” he says, forcing a half-smile before finally stepping away.

You glance up at your boyfriend, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yoongi—”

“Don't."

Yoongi’s grip on your wrist is possessive as he tugs you through the crowd. Your heart pounds in your chest, the buzz of music and laughter fading into the background as he leads you down the dimly lit hallway.

His silence is deafening, the tension in the air between you growing further.

“Yoongi—” You try to call his name, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. His fingers tighten around your wrist just enough to make you swallow your words. You don’t know if it’s jealousy, anger, or something deeper that’s driving him right now.

A door swings open, and Yoongi pulls you inside. Turning you around and pressing you against the slammed door.

“You think this is funny?”

His arms cage you in, palms flat beside your head as he leans in. His breath is warm against your skin, but there’s nothing soft about the way he speaks.

Your voice wavers slightly. “Yoongi.. I - your aunt forced us to dance—”

“Forced you?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief, his dark gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “Did she force you to smile at him too? To let him touch you?”

“It wasn’t like that,” you say quickly, your hands pressing lightly against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His body is warm, and his scent fucking intoxicating.

Yoongi scoffs, his fingers curling against the door beside your head. “Then what was it like, huh?” His voice is lower now, rough with something unreadable. “Because from where I stood, it sure as hell looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

You blink up at him, your heart hammering. “You know I didn't mean it any other way,” you defend, your voice softer now.

Yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, his tongue swiping over his lower lip in frustration.

You barely get his name out before his lips crash onto yours, cutting off whatever you were about to say. A shocked gasp escapes you, but he doesn’t give you a second to process as his hands grip your waist, pulling you impossibly close as his lips move against yours with almost a punishing force.

Your fingers tighten around his blazer. His body presses against yours. The kiss is fiery, nothing like the gentle ones he’s given you before.

His teeth graze your lower lip, and you whimper softly, your knees nearly buckling.

Yoongi growls lowly at the sound, one of his hands sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs, making your head spin.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice low, as he growls.

You look up at him, panting softly, yet eyes laced with something playful. You’ve never seen Yoongi this worked up. In all the years you’ve been together, he’s always been the calm one. But fuck, seeing him loose his cool, it’s turning you on more than you care to admit.

“Didn’t know you could be this jealous,” you murmur a breathless whisper meant to provoke.

Yoongi’s eyes narrow, his jaw ticking.

“Don’t test me, princess,” he breathes, his voice low with warning as his hand slowly wraps around your throat, enough to make you feel the warmth.

“You don’t want to play with fire.”

Your breath hitches at the sensation, but the way your thighs clench in response betrays your thoughts.

“But I want to,” you whisper.

And just like that, the last thread of restraint snaps within Yoongi.

Yoongi’s breath fans against your ear as he leans in, voice like gravel. “You asked for it.”

A low groan rumbles from deep in his chest as he tugs you to the mirror counter, spinning you around, pressing his body flush against yours.

His hands grip the zipper of your dress, yanking it down roughly. The fabric pools at your feet, leaving you standing there in your panties and bra. You catch your breath, eyes wide as his hungry gaze roams over you.

He bends you forward over the counter, one hand steadying your waist. Then, with a ruthless flick, he shoves your panties down, tearing them in the process.

You gasp sharply, “Yoongi!”

“I’ll buy you new ones.”

His fingers already dig inside you, rough, stroking deep and fast. You moan his name, your body arching involuntarily against the counter.

He curls his fingers, pressing that perfect spot inside you while his thumb rubs fiercely over your clit. The sensations swirl and crash through you. Your fingers tangle into his long hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you moan his name, breathless and desperate.

His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. You can’t control the soft cries that slip past your lips, but the sound only makes him work you harder.

Biting down on his shoulder, you try to muffle your moans, he growls, hands gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My little slut, aren't you” he hisses, voice dripping with raw possession. “Always soaking wet for me.”

Your moans grow louder, trembling on the edge. He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving you aching and desperate.

“Get on your knees.”

Your legs are wobbly but you obey without hesitation.

He unzips his pants, the sight of him already driving you wild. His cock stands hard and proud, and you feel a fresh rush of heat flood your core.

Yoongi’s gaze never leaves you as he grips himself slowly stroking that make your breath catch.

He cups your chin with another hand tilting your head up.

“Open.” Yoongi leans in, spitting into your mouth. You swallow instinctively, meeting his gaze with a mix of submission and desire.

“Good girl.”

Yoongi’s gaze burns down at you, eyes sharpening as they lock onto yours. His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face up like you belonged to him, because you fucking do.

“You know the safe word, right?”

You swallow hard, nerves and need tangling together as you nod.

He pushes forward, sliding into you with a deliberate force that took your breath away.

His hand finds your hair, fingers threading firmly through the strands, pulling you closer. “Look at you,” he growls under his breath, his hips rolling deeper. “Taking me so well.”

His lips part in a guttural groan, head tilting back.

“Fuck...” he breathed out, voice ragged, “That mouth is made for me, yeah.”

He was claiming you with every thrust, every touch, every breath, and you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

Your throat tightens further with each controlled roll of his hips, the stretch forcing little whimpers from you.

A choked gag slips out as he sinks deeper.

You blink up through watery lashes, lips stretching around him as you look up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

His own gaze burned into yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses, slipping his cock out.

You gasp at the loss, lips swollen.

You let out a soft, startled sound as he hoists you up onto the cool counter, your back hits the mirror behind the vanity, and Yoongi stands between your thighs.

His palm slide up the inside of your thigh, forcing them open wider.

He drags the swollen head of his cock along your folds, slick with your arousal. His other hand came to your jaw. One deep thrust and you cry out his name, and Yoongi captures it in a messy kiss.

Your gasp was sharp, ripped straight from your lungs as he bottomed out inside you, the stretch making your eyes squeeze shut—but Yoongi didn’t let you hide.

His body was pressed tightly between your thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the steamy glass.

“Look at you,” he growls, thrusting hard, “Fucking dumb on my cock.”

You whimper in response.

“You think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he hisses, lips brushing your ear.

You shook your head frantically, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, “N-No, Yoongi—only you.”

“That’s right,” he growled, pace unrelenting. “You’re mine. This sweet little pussy, all mine."

He grabs your thighs, hoisting you closer to the edge as his thrusts turns downright brutal.

Your head falls back with a sobbed moan, mouth open, drool trailing from the corner of your lips as your walls clenched tighter.

“I—Yoongi, I’m close,” you gasp, voice high and wrecked, each breath punched out of you with the way he slams into you over and over, your thighs trembling around his hips.

Of course he knows. He feels the way you’re fluttering around him, pulling him in, desperate to tip over.

“Not yet,” he growls, voice rough in your ear.

You let out a broken sound, frustration spilling into a sob, your nails digging into his shoulders. But he’s already pulling out, your body twitching from the sudden emptiness.

Yoongi grabs your waist and slides you off the counter.

Your legs barely hold you up as he spins you around, your palms splayed on the mirror, your cheek flushed against the surface. His hand guides your hips back, arching you until you’re right where he wants you.

One ruthless thrust that has your eyes flying open, a loud, helpless moan spilling from your lips. “Fuck,” you cry out, your breath fogging the mirror. “Yoongi—”

His mouth finds your neck, teeth sinking into your skin with a sharp bite that has you clenching around him instantly.

He groans at that, sucking a mark into your skin.

“Mine,” he snarls against your throat.

His hand slides up your chest, your sternum and closes firmly around your throat. His body is burning against yours, muscles tense, heat radiating between you.

“Open your eyes,” he growls.

Your lashes flutter. You look wrecked. Your gaze meets his through the mirror. Yoongi's dark eyes locked onto you, jaw clenched as he rasps against your ear.

“The only Min you’ll ever get is this one.”

You clench around him so hard it makes both of you groan. Your legs buckle, body begging to come undone.

“You wanna come, baby?” he whispers. “Say it.”

The grip on your throat sends heat straight through you. You nod, trembling, as your voice cracks, “Y-Yes, Yoongi please—”

His free hand slides down your front, trailing between your thighs, already soaked and trembling and finds your clit.

Your moan was filthy, echoing off the walls. You couldn't even try to bite it back.

If anyone was outside the door, there’d be no doubt about what was happening in here. The obscene sounds of his hips slamming into you, your cries, was undeniable. Yoongi didn’t care. In fact, it only spurred him on. “Louder,” he hissed into your ear. “Let them fucking hear who owns you.”

His fingers moved in merciless, dragging you faster toward the edge than you could handle.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

Your body trembled so hard it was barely standing, your palms slipping on the mirror as you braced yourself, tears sliding down your flushed cheeks. His cock pounded into you, filling you so deep you swore you felt him everywhere.

You sobbed out his name, gasping.

And Yoongi was right there, mouth at your ear, voice low and dark as sin.

“Come for me, baby. Ruin this mirror. Ruin yourself."

Your orgasm hits you so intense it robs you of breath. Your body locks up, trembling hard around him, and you scream his name like it’s the only word you know, your voice shattering under the force of it. Your walls pulse around him, clenching with desperate rhythm, and he groans.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, hips crashing against you one final time. “All mine.”

He buries himself deep spilling inside you with a broken curse.

His forehead drops against the side of your head.

Tears stream down your face from the overwhelming release, legs barely holding you upright.

His cock still twitches inside you.

He slips out of you carefully, catching your body as it slumps forward, cradling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles over your bare back.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing your temple. “You did so fucking good. I got you.”

Your tears wet his neck as you try to calm down. His thumb brushes your cheek, catching the tear trails.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod, sniffling as he’s rubs your back.

“I might intentionally piss you off sometime if it gets you like this.” You manage to speak after a moment.

You feel him pause for a second. Then a dangerous chuckle rumbles from his chest, as he looks down at you.

Those dark eyes flicker with something primal, half warning, half promise.

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, as leans in.

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “Because you know I’ll fucking ruin you all over again.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily. When Min Yoongi says that, you know he means it.

Especially after tonight.

[kooklovee]

Patiently waiting for yours for a year!!!

(when is it coming??😭😭)

hii loves I know many of y'all want the release of Yours for a year which I said I'd try finishing ch1 this month bt I'm sorryyy it's going to take a lil more time, I have my end sems in about 10 days plus I'd gotten sick recently which obv didn't help ( bt next month I promise!! if possible I'll make the chap longer so it kinda makes up for the delay😔🫶

[kooklovee]

aaaaaaa that's TOO sweett thankuuUU🩷🩷🩷🩷

Soaked in you - Myg

Rain, love and your boyfriend’s guitar.

Pairing - bf!Yoongi x gf!Reader

Genre - fluff, established relationship au

Wc- 1.3k

Warnings - nothing? just fluff, some kisses, soft rainy moments <3

a/n - here goes my first yoongi fic🩷 I miss my yoongles sm. also it's funny how I'd written this when I had a cold (you'll know when u read this haha) btw alt title was "Drawn to you"

Masterlist kofi

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You’re barefoot on the cool tile floor, your oversized shirt hanging loose on your frame-Yoongi's, of course. The weather outside is the kind that turns the world slow.

The space filled with the gentle strumming of your boyfriend’s guitar. It's a soft tune, one you’re sure he’s making up on the spot. He always does that when the mood strikes.

Carefully holding his coffee in both hands, you pad over to him, rain-scented breeze all over. His dark hair is a little messy, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, looking so peaceful. And this is a kind of love you never knew your heart needed.

Yoongi looks up, lips tugging into that smile, the kind that’s gentle and made just for you. He shifts his guitar slightly, opening his arms, wordlessly inviting you in.

You settle into his lap like you were made to be there, the swing bed sways a little more. He takes the mug from your hands with a soft “thank you.”

Then the guitar is back in his hands, and so are you. tucked between him and the instrument now, your back warm against his chest.

This time, the music feels different. Like it’s being played just for you.

You lean into him, eyes fluttering shut as the melody continues. His chin brushes the top of your shoulder. It’s intimate in a way words could never be.

This is your favorite song. And it doesn’t even have a name.

“I love this,” you whisper, your voice almost lost beneath the rain.

Yoongi softly hums, fingers moving with a lazy grace, never missing a beat.

“Did you make this now?”

He hums low in his throat, a subtle confirmation. “Mm,” he says, barely louder than the guitar. “It’s what came out when I heard the rain.”

You smile, the corners of your mouth tugging up as your heart squeezes with so much affection you don’t know what to do with it. Yoongi never used to like the rain.

But somewhere along the way, after years of love, patience. He’s started to accept it, like it even.

Maybe because now, when the rain falls, he has moments like these to hold on to.

You shift just enough to press your lips to his jaw, as the soft tune continues.

“Teach me,” you say after some time, voice bubbling with excitement.

“Teach you what?”

“Guitar,” you grin. “I wanna learn.”

He chuckles, “You wanna learn now?”

“Yes,” you nod eagerly, adjusting in his lap. “The weather’s perfect, you’re here, I’m here, the guitar is here—it’s fate.”

He laughs, really laughs this time, tilting his head back a little. “You’re unbelievable. You don't even know how to hold it, baby.”

“I know how to hold you,” you say dramatically, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“That’s not the same,” he mutters, but he’s smiling so hard now it’s impossible to miss.

Yoongi shakes his head, still smiling. “Alright, alright. But if we’re doing this, you need to sit properly. Come here.”

He catches your waist and turns you gently adjusting the guitar in front of you, his hands warm as they reach around.

“Okay, this hand here,” he murmurs, fingers guide yours into position.

You watch him, focused, lips slightly parted in concentration.

“And this one…” He lifts your right hand and rests it near the strings. “You’ll strum with this one. But not like you’re attacking it, okay? Be gentle.”

You huff out a laugh. “I’m always gentle.”

“Hm a little chaos at times.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“You would,” he mutters fondly, and leans in just enough to bump his forehead lightly against yours before pulling back. “Now focus.”

Laughter spills through both of you bright and full. The swing creaks gently beneath swaying in rhythm with the soft breeze. Yoongi’s head tilts back, eyes crinkling, the sound of his laugh blending with yours. Both of you tangled, fingers brushing, hearts light.

Everything feeling slow and golden.

Eventually, after another hopeless strum and an exaggerated sigh, you let your hands fall away in defeat, lips pouting in mock frustration. Yoongi chuckles softly, taking the guitar back with ease.

You settle against him again, resting your cheek to his shoulder, watching him as his playing resumes.

Your gaze lingers on him, his cheeks still tinged with pink from laughing, a gentle glow in his eyes that makes your heart ache in the sweetest way.

“What?” he murmurs, glancing at you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You shrug lightly, the words slipping out before you can think too much. “I love you.”

He pauses, eyes flickering to yours, there's a subtle rise in the color dusting the tips of his ears.

A hum leaves him returning to plucking the strings like he didn’t just steal your breath.

You laugh under it, snuggling into his side. “Won’t say it back, huh?”

He doesn’t answer with words. But the way his arm curls around you a little tighter says everything.

The rain has quieted to a gentle drizzle. You rise from the swing, slipping off without a word, drawn to the edge of the balcony where the air smells like earth and calm.

“Yah—baby, get back,” Yoongi calls, concern lacing his voice. “You’ll catch a cold.”

You glance back at him with a sheepish grin, already stepping into the open. “It’s okay,” you say, arms slightly outstretched. “It’s not even raining that much. Come join me.”

He sets the guitar down brows furrowed with worry. “You get cold so easily,” he mutters. “Don’t be reckless baby, get back.”

You almost whine, your laugh bubbling out as you turn your face up toward the sky, letting the soft drizzle kiss your skin. “It’s just fun,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut.

Yoongi just watches, his sigh lost in the quiet hush of rain. His gaze softens in awe, like you’re something endless. Maybe even unreal.

You, with droplets clinging to your lashes, smiling at the sky, the drizzle dampening your hair. Time feels slow. Perhaps stopping just for the two of you.

You open your eyes feeling a warmth. Yoongi stands in front of you, his hair a little drenched and tousled. looking at you like he couldn’t help it but be drawn to you.

A grin spreads across your face as you step forward, wrapping your arms around his waist, tilting your head up. “Hi,” you whisper, eyes gleaming.

Yoongi’s eyes reflecting your smile. like the rain, like the moment.

He leans in, breath mingling with yours as his hands rest lightly on your waist before he's kissing you.

It’s the kind of kiss that feels like home. Like a quiet promise between raindrops.

His lips linger. The world feels blurred. Just the two of you, soaked in gentle drizzles.

“Thought you didn’t wanna join,” you tease playfully.

Yoongi huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, eyes flickering over your face like you’re the most ridiculous, beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His thumb brushes lightly against your lower lip.

“I didn’t,” he murmurs, that smile tugging at the corner of his lips again. “But you’re impossible to resist.”

And with that, he kisses you again,

just because he can.

Yoongi turns you around in his arms, pulling you flush against him. His chin rests lightly on the top of your head.

You close your eyes, leaning back into him, your hands resting over his as they hold you close.

There's no rush. Only warmth and peace.

Just love in its softest form.

You hear a barely audible breath behind you.

“I love you.”

simply a truth, whispered just for you.

You don’t say anything back right away. Your smile widens, eyes still closed, heart so full.

Because this, this is all you ever needed.

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[kooklovee]

when are you gonna post yours for a year. i fell like its already been a decade, i want it so badd

as I said before I'm stilll working on it 😭 I'll try my best to finish ch 1 by this month!

[kooklovee]

Om hi pookie 😊

Can you maybe write a drabble where the oc finds out she's pregnant (for the hold on to me couple)and as expected Jungkook is excited he cries,and maybe you know,a lil smut wink wink 😉

Oommm heyy youu pookie anon🎀

AAAH another hotm drabble??😭😭🥹 actually yk what I DID think about throwing in a lil pregnancy sprinkle in their drabble(the one already written) bt I just wanted to focus on jungkook making up n their overall emotional bonding n adding pregnancy would've overshadowed? it maybe, so I'd scrapped it off🙃

BUTT a separate drabbleee?? yusss (somedayyy SUREE!!) 😘

[kooklovee]

Pleaseee I'm so excited for yours for a year!!! I'm ready to devour that piece of yours!🥹

OOOOOO AREE YOU🌚 heheehe 💋

[kooklovee]

Drunk in love (m) - JJK

Jungkook takes care of his adorably drunk girlfriend, in more than a few ways.

Pairing - bf!Jungkook x gf!Reader

Oneshot - 2.5k words

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, fluff, smut MDNI

Warnings - mention of drinking, Jk's cute lil gf and her drunk talks, kisses, pet names, Explicit smut - unprotected sex, creampie, soft dom Jk, nipple play, fingering, marking, riding, praises, sideways missionary, sleepy sex vibes?, brat calling in a cute way (once), aftercare

a/n - well you can tell by now, that I'm loving fluff writing more n more

divider credit - @uzmacchiato

Masterlist kofi

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It was supposed to be a chill girls’ night out. Just a weekend meet-up with your friends after months of hectic schedules. You hadn’t planned on drinking much—your alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly low, and you rarely drink to begin with.

Now... well.

The table is a half-chaotic mess. Your head slumped against your folded arms, face half-squished. The music is loud, the lights spin in every direction, and your cheeks ache from laughing too much.

Around you, the girls aren't doing much better. Mina is giggling uncontrollably at her own joke that no one else had heard. And Nari is hugging a pillow she had stolen from the lounge couch nearby.

Sooah is the only sober one.. and well unimpressed as well. “Okay, that’s it. I’m calling all your boyfriends.”

It didn’t take long for the boyfriends to show up like a well-trained rescue squad.

Yoongi was the first to appear, scanning the room, and finding Nari. He lets out the softest little sigh before walking over to his girlfriend and gently pulling her upright.

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, slipping her arm over his shoulder as she blinked slowly up at him, smiling like she's just seen her favorite person in the world.

Jungkook is the next to walk in.

His eyes landing on you instantly- slumped over the table on your folded arms, head resting sideways on them, lips blabbering something.

With a slight amused shake of his head he makes his way to you, crouching beside the couch with a hand reaching out to touch your shoulder.

“Yaaah,” you slur, with eyes closed, voice muffled and adorably dramatic, “Don’t touch me.”

He freezes. “Baby?”

You lift your head just a little, squinting without really opening your eyes, and raise a wobbly finger in his direction like a threat.

“My boyfriend’s gonna fight you,” you warn seriously. “He’s got lots of muscles, okay? with tattoos and all..”

Yoongi snorts, overhearing from beside you as he pickes up Nari’s purse.

“Is that so?” Jungkook asks, lips twitching as he tries not to laugh. He rests his elbow on the table, leaning closer to your flushed face.

“And he sings like an angel too..”

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Really?” he whispers.

You squint, frowning just a bit as your eyes try to focus on his face.

“You look like my boyfriend,” you mumble suspiciously.

Jungkook smiles, lips curving as he tilts his head a little closer. “That’s because I am your boyfriend, baby.”

You blink again, before whispering in awe, “Kookie..”

He bites back a laugh, gently brushing your hair behind your ear, gaze impossibly soft. “It's me baby. Come on, let’s get you home.”

Jungkook holds you close as you both step out of the club, and then scoops you up in his arms, carrying you all the way to the car, your head lolling against his shoulder, mumbling incoherent things, with your boyfriend agreeing to them all.

Jungkook opens the car door, carefully settles you down in the passenger seat.

You begin singing along to the radio, off-key and loud while he just smiles to himself, laughing quietly as he drives.

When you reach home, he lifts you into his arms again, carrying you up to your shared apartment while you cling to him like a koala, humming nonsense.

He sits you down, removing your heels with ease.

You nod mindlessly, legs swinging from the edge of the counter when he brings you to the bathroom. He grabs a makeup wipe and gently starts cleaning your face.

“Don’t move so much, baby. Let me wipe your face, yeah?” he murmurs.

You look at him through half-lidded eyes and grin.

“You look so cute today” you say, blinking slowly. “Like… too cute. Illegal levels of cute.”

He chuckles under his breath, “Thank you, drunk princess.”

You close your eyes, letting him gently wipe your makeup off, his movements tender. He pauses every now and then to place a soft kiss on your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs as he works, tucking your hair behind your ear.

You beam lazily.

Jungkook was just finishing wiping off the last bit of your lipstick, leaning in to kiss your clean cheek, when you throw him a question.

“Do you also want four kids?” you ask out of nowhere, your voice slurred.

He freezes, the used wipe still in his hand. “Huh?”

You didn’t even notice the way his brows shot up. You were too busy swinging your legs and playing with his tshirt.

“Yuri said Taehyung wants four kids after they get married,” you mumble, nodding. “Four’s a lot, right? I mean... not toooo many but still..”

He lets out a broken sound—a flustered, breathless laugh as he covers his face for a second. “You’re gonna kill me.” He mutters behind his hands.

“Just answer,” you poke his chest with one finger, lips forming a pout.

Jungkook moves your hand aside gently, stepping between your knees again. His voice soft as he replies, “However many you want, princess. Even if it’s four.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, brushing your hair back again. “But maybe let’s talk about it when you’re not drunk off your cute little ass.”

You giggle, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

After making sure you were watered, and settled, Jungkook climbs into the bed beside you- shirtless, as always.

He kisses your shoulder, then your hair, murmuring a soft, “Goodnight, baby.”

“...Kook,” you whisper after some moment.

He hums sleepily.

“Kookie...”

Another hum, this one softer. "Hm.?"

You turn around in his arms, blinking at him with a sleepy pout. “I really love you, y’know?”

He smiles, sleepily pecking your nose. “I know, baby. Now sleep.”

Your pout deepens. “You love me too, right?”

His voice comes out fond. “I do, baby. So much. Now sleep, my love.”

“...Would you still love me if I turned into a caterpillar tomorrow?” you mumble seriously.

Jungkook lets out a groggy groan, with a breathless laugh, tightening his arm around you. “Babyy...”

“I’m serious,” you slur. “Like a little green one. All squishy.”

He chuckles again, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Yes, baby. I’d still love you the same. Caterpillar, worm, butterfly—anything you feel like turning into.”

You smile, satisfied, but still had more to say. “But what if—”

Jungkook silenced you with a kiss.

“No more ‘what ifs,’ princess,” he mumbles, pulling you fully against his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin. “Sleep now. I’ll take care of you tomorrow when you’ve turned into a little caterpillar, okay?”

You giggle softly, melting into his hold. “Mmkay…”

Jungkook smiles to himself, stroking your back gently as sleep finally claims you both.

It was nearly dawn, when you stir. The room's quiet, but something else was slowly pulling you out of sleep.

You shift slightly and that’s when you feel something hard and familiar pressing against your lower back.

You stayed still for a moment, unsure if he was awake, but the subtle way he exhaled against your neck, still deep in sleep, told you he wasn’t.

The alcohol from last night still lingered faintly in your system, making everything feel warmer, and more intense.

A soft gasp slips from your lips as Jungkook unconsciously pulls you tighter, his arm around your waist securing you against him as his hips pressed forward just a bit—his hardness now snug against your ass through the thin layers of fabric separating you.

Heat was curling low in your belly, you bit your lip, suppressing a soft whine. but you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Kook…” you whisper.

Your boyfriend doesn't answer.

You snuggle back against him, your hips pressing into his as you call again, “Jungkook...”

A sleepy groan rumbles from his chest, and his hold around your waist tightens slightly, but his eyes stayed closed.

“Koo...” you whimper softly, need laced in your voice this time.

This time, he blinks slowly, his eyes heavy-lidded as they flutter open. He looks at you from behind, disoriented and adorably dazed.

“Mm... baby?” he rasps, voice rough from sleep. His brows furrow slightly as his body adjusts to the feeling of your soft curves pressed against his arousal. “What’s wrong?”

You turn slightly to meet his gaze, eyes pleading, “Need you..”

His expression slowly changes as sleep wears off. He glances down, feeling your legs shift, your chest rises and falls faster.

licking his lips, he leans in just a little. “You want me now, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Please.."

“Come here.”

You turn around fully in his arms, your eyes locking with his for a split second before his lips find your neck. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world. His mouth is warm against your skin, leaving a trail of heat as his hands slip under your oversized t-shirt.

His palm meet your bare breast, and you gasp, your back arching into his touch. He groans softly, cupping you fully as his thumb brushes over your nipple, already hard. He pinches them drawing out a breathy moan from you.

He hums against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone.

“Kook please...”

“Please what?” he whispers, hands already trailing his down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin.

You grab his wrist, guiding him lower. He chuckles breathlessly, letting you- his hand slips past the waistband of your panties cupping you.

“Fuck, baby... you’re so drenched,” he rasps, rubbing you slowly with his fingers, making your hips buck. “You wanted my cock that bad, huh?”

You nod desperately, your breathing already heavy.

He bites into your neck gently making you gasp, before his fingers finally slide your panties to the side. Without wasting another second, he pushes two fingers in.

Your moan is instant, your body arching into his chest as he curls his fingers inside you.

“There you go,” he murmurs into your ear, his fingers working rhythmically. “God, you're so tight even for my fingers, baby.”

Your legs tangle with his as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles, driving you closer and closer.

“You gonna cum just from my fingers, hm?” he teased, voice thick with arousal.

You could only whimper, burying your face in his neck as your hips moved helplessly against his hand.

His fingers keeps moving inside you, curling just right, his thumb pressing firm circles on your clit until the tension inside you snapped. You moan into his neck as your body trembles and breath stutters as you come around his fingers.

He holds you close, whispering sweet things as your body calms, pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"How do you want me, baby,?" he murmurs in his raspy morning voice that always made your stomach flip.

Your hand drifts down between your bodies, cupping his hard length through the fabric of his boxers. "Wanna ride you..."

Jungkook lets out a rough groan, eyes dark and half-lidded with desire.

"Fuck.. go on then, baby."

You lean down, kissing over his skin, trailing lower, lips brushing his stomach before you hook your fingers into his waistband and ease his boxers down. His cock springs free, already hard and leaking for you.

Straddling him, you reach between your legs, sliding your panties aside. His hungry eyes were on you the whole time, thumbs brushing gently over your thighs as you aligned yourself with him.

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down, as he fills you inch by inch. Your hands brace on his chest as you bottom out, thighs trembling.

You stay still for a moment, adjusting to the fullness. Jungkook’s hands immediately grip your hips, and another one slides up beneath your t-shirt, fingers soothing along your spine as he pulls you down into a kiss.

You start to move, slow rolls of your hips at first, grinding down on him as his head tilt back into the pillow, lips parting with a shaky breath.

You watched his lashes flutter, his jaw tense. His hands guide you, his fingers flexing on your waist as you find a rhythm, moaning softly each time he hit that spot inside you.

“That’s it, my love... just like that,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours.

You ride him for a while, your thighs burning as you moved up and down. His hands roam, guiding your movements, praising you in breathless whispers.

“So fucking good, baby...,” he groans, gripping your hips tighter.

Jungkook takes over, flips you to the side—keeping himself buried inside you, bodies still perfectly joined, when your movements falter from exhaustion.

His tattooed hand slide under your thigh, hiking it up as he settles between your legs on his side, chest pressing to yours, lips brushing your temple.

You gasp, moaning as your head falls back against the pillow, as he speeds up with harder thrusts.

“Fuck, Jungkook—” you cried out, clinging to his shoulders.

His teeth graze your jaw, breath hot against your skin. “Couldn’t wait till morning to be filled by my cock, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked with lust.

You whimper, unable to form any words.

He growls, driving into you deeper—your body jolting with each thrust. You moan louder, biting his shoulder as he slams into that spot that made your back arch and your legs tremble.

“Fuck baby... so tight... I’m—” he breathes, losing rhythm as he chases both your highs. “Let go for me.”

Your body clenches around him, eyes rolling back as you come hard with a loud moan of his name.

He follows moments later, hips stuttering, as he spills inside you.

The room falls quiet, save for your soft pants. His hand slides up your back slowly, stroking soothing.

“You did so good,” he murmurs, kissing your hair.

He pulls out gently, earning a small whimper from you, and immediately grabs the tissues from the nightstand, cleaning you up with the softest care, his fingers feather-light, as you blink up at him sleepily.

“Come here, my little brat,” he teases with a smile, pulling you into his arms.

You let out a weak laugh, pressing your face to his chest, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat.

His fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and just as you were starting to drift into sleep, you hear his lazy chuckle.

You blink slowly, murmuring, “What...?”

He laughs a little more, voice fond. “You haven’t turned into a caterpillar yet.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Huh?”

“Nothing” he whispers, smiling into your hair, pressing another kiss to your temple and pulls the blanket higher around you both.

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[kooklovee]

soo glad to hearr ty toooo!!😚🌷🫶

HOLD ON TO ME (m) - JJK

Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..

Can he make it up to you, or is it already too late?

Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader

Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI

ONESHOT - 11k words

Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)

a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶

Masterlist kofi☕

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The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room. But its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.

You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it.. feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the huge windows.

Jungkook is late. Again.

You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.

He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.

Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.

But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.

You check the time—almost midnight.

He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.

You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.

And you’re so damn tired of breaking.

You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.

It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.

And now, it feels like you’re losing him.

The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.

But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

The clock hits midnight.

You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?

But there’s nothing.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.

So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.

But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.

You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.

You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.

And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?

----

You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.

Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His dark lashes cast faint shadows on his skin, and his lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.

You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.

Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.

Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.

Of course he remembers.

You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.

Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.

He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.

"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.

You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.

Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.

Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.

Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.

Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.

You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.

Then, with barely a glance in your direction, he mutters, "Shit, I need to get to the office."

The hope you held onto so desperately?

Gone.

You blink, your mind scrambling to catch up.

Maybe he's kidding. Maybe this is just one of his teasing games, the kind where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.

So you wait.

You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.

You wait for him to prove you wrong.

But he doesn't.

Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up. He moves through the motions—grabbing a fresh shirt from the dresser, checking his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.

The realization settles in. suffocating. He’s not playing. He’s not pretending. He really forgot.

And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.

----

The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.

Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.

He forgot.

The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.

Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.

But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.

Your throat tightens.

Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?

You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe you should remind him.

But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.

You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.

So you move. Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.

For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.

You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.

The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.

By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.

Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.

Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.

Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over. So, you pretend.

You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.

If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less. Maybe you won’t break in front of him.

And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.

“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”

His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.

You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.

But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.

Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long. like he’s seeing you, really seeing you, for the first time in days.

Then, he kisses you.

Warm & lingering. Like he actually means it. Like he actually feels it.

“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips, his voice deep, hushed.

You blink up at him.

Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”

And just like that, reality crashes back in.

Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.

His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.

You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?

----

Jungkook moves around the house, gathering his things- his wallet, his keys. You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending to be busy, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest.

Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

Before you can even respond, he’s already halfway through the living room, his focus elsewhere, his steps hurried.

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.

You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.

Flashback

The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.

His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.

“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.

He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”

Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, baby,” he urged, voice deep and rough, sending you tumbling over the edge.

You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.

Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.

You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long. A little too intensely.

And then, barely above a whisper, like a secret meant only for you—he said, “I love you.”

Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.

But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.

“Say it back,” he grumbled.

“What?” you teased, laughing.

Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.

Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”

His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.

End of Flashback

Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.

The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.

You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.

Is this what your relationship has become?

Work, work, work. Always work.

It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.

But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?

You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?

Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.

You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.

Is this how life is going to be from now on?

Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.

But when?

When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?

Well, happy anniversary to you.

----

Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.

Your wedding ring.

For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.

Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.

Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.

"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."

A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.

How did you end up here?

----

Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.

Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.

The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.

It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts the quiet hum of his office.

“So you’re really here.”

Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed, a deep frown on his face.

“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”

Jungkook blinks, confused. “Why?”

Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”

Jungkook hums absentmindedly, still typing, still lost in work. “Mmm.”

Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”

Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like a punch to the gut, like ice spreading through his veins.

Fuck.

Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.

His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.

Anniversary?

No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.

November 22.

His wedding anniversary.

For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.

He’d forgotten.

Completely.

No hints, no reminders, no last-minute realization before heading out this morning. Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.

His wife.

But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.

His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.

You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.

Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.

His wife. His love. His anniversary.

And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.

How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?

Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”

Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”

“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—

Fuck.

He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.

“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”

Jungkook levels him with a glare, his voice lower, sharper. “Hyung.”

Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.

And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.

----

Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.

How the fuck did he forget?

His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.

“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.

“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”

“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”

A pause. “Sir?”

“Now,” he snaps.

There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.

His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”

“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.

What the fuck is he even doing?

No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.

His hands clench the wheel.

How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?

And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.

What if you’re done waiting?

Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.

He’s not losing you. He won’t.

----

Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.

His throat dries. “Baby?”

No answer.

He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.

A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.

You’re not here.

His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

Straight to voicemail.

His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.

Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?

The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.

Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.

Did you leave?

No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—

He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.

But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.

You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.

Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.

Voicemail. Again.

“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?

His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.

Each time, the same response.

No, I haven’t seen her.

Did you check with—

Wait, what’s going on?

Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.

And he still had no idea where you were.

Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.

His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.

A small glint.

His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.

Your wedding ring.

Sitting there. Abandoned.

For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements—everything.

The air in the room feels heavier, suffocating. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.

You never took it off. Never.

Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward, slowly, almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.

His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..

Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.

You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?

The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.

Were you thinking about this before today?

How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?

A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.

The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.

He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.

Before it’s too late.

Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.

Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.

But just as his fingers reach for the handle—

The door swings open.

And there you are.

Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, everything stills. His panic, his thoughts, his entire world narrowing to the sight of you standing in front of him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, he moves.

He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.

"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused, hesitant.

But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.

You don’t know what’s going on.

But Jungkook?

He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.

Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.

Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.

Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”

But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another quiet, shaky breath leaving him.

You don’t understand.

But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.

Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.

“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”

He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.

He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.

You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.

Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” Silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.

“I—” His voice is hoarse, cracking slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”

You blink, his words settling in, but it takes you a moment to fully process them.

He thought you left him?

Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”

His breath is still uneven, his hands gripping his knees like he’s trying to ground himself. His eyes flick up to meet yours, confused, searching.

“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”

Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you, his body still tense, like his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.

His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“…Then why was this on the couch?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.

“I…” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.

Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.

“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.

You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.

“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”

Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.

“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”

You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”

His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.

You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”

Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Silence.

Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.

He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.

Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.

He’s losing you.

And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.

He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.

The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”

Jungkook’s breath hitches.

You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”

His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.

He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.

And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it was happening until now.

“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.

His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”

Jungkook's breath is unsteady, his chest rising and falling too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.

He moves. Before you can react, his hands are cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”

His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.

“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”

His vulnerability shakes you to your core.

You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”

Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.

Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.

Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”

Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.

He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.

“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with flowers, or gifts, or some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”

His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.

It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek—slow, hesitant, as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.

And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.

Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.

You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.

You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”

A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”

Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”

His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice is steady now. no hesitation, no doubt. Just quiet, determined love. And though the ache in your chest hasn’t fully faded, something shifts.

Because this time, you don’t just hear him. You believe him. Even if just a little.

Jungkook presses another lingering kiss against your knuckles, his touch reverent, as if grounding himself in you. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"

“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”

His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.

While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now- a warmth that wasn’t there before.

----

By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.

He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.

You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.

After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.

Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.

You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.

“I…I’d made this.”

The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.

His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.

And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.

“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.

He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.

You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.

“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.

His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.

He doesn’t know if words are enough.

“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”

“Jungkook.”

You don’t let him finish.

Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His lips part in surprise, his rambling cut off as you rise onto your toes.

A gentle kiss on his lips.

Soft. Loving.

Tear-streaked and real.

Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.

The kiss is slow, there's no desperation, no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.

Just this.

Just love.

When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm, like he’s grounding himself in your touch, afraid to let go. His lips part, like he wants to speak, but before he can, you whisper,

“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.

You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.

Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”

Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”

A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,

“I love you.”

This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.

Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.

You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.

And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.

Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.

You kiss him.

It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.

Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. It sends a familiar heat curling through you.

The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.

Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.

His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”

His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, grounding you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough. Afraid that he isn’t enough.

Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.

You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.

His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.

You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”

Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.

And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.

Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.

Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like he’s memorizing the feel of you all over again.

But you don’t want hesitation.

You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.

A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.

You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”

Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.

His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.

“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”

And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.

He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”

The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.

His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.

He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.

“My wife.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.

Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.

Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.

Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.

“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.

He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.

His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.

Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.

One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.

Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.

“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.

He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”

And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.

Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”

Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.

Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.

A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.

“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.

He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.

His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-

With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.

A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.

This is home.

Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.

Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.

It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.

And then, suddenly, you feel it.

A faint tremble against your body.

Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.

Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.

You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.

He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.

“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.

“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”

His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.

And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.

Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”

You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”

His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.

His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.

As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.

“Happy anniversary, baby.”

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[kooklovee]

Yours for a year - JJK

PROLOGUE

One year, one contract, one fake marriage. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.8k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be only when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

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Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—also married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love, was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It���s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

🩷🫶

Yours for a year JJK - Prologue

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.7k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series mlist Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—already married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You enjoyed it nevertheless—you liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

🥰😘😘🩷

Yours for a year JJK - Prologue

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.7k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series mlist Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—already married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You enjoyed it nevertheless—you liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

Taglist 2 - @sunainasworld @cherryminnie95 @kpopslur @vintagemoonsstuff @asyr97 @guwol @yunhoswrldddd @sky-23s-world @ukndtwme @hemmosfear @erikook @mar-lo-pap @hallayaps @bunnykoo901 @minatozaki-dyy @magicalnachocreator @emmie2308 @tiramisulover15 @daughterof-aphrodit @parkinglot-nights @mwhitefield @koo0130 @kyljjk @jungkookswhiskey @kamyyyy @kooko009 @dopebanditlightpie @rkivved-girl

If I'm unable to tag you, pls check your settings.

Yours for a year JJK - Prologue

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.8k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series mlist Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—already married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You enjoyed it nevertheless—you liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

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Yours for a year JJK - Prologue

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.7k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series mlist Masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—already married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

Love, to you, was about ease.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You enjoyed it nevertheless—you liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

Yours for a year - JJK

PROLOGUE

One year, one contract, one fake marriage. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?

Pairing - Ceo!Jungkook x Reader

Genre - fake/contract marriage au, grumpy x sunshine, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut (MDNI)

Warnings - family pressure for marriage, inner thoughts, different perceptions of love👀, tae is a mutual friend, reader is a uni professor

Wc - 1.8k words

a/n - as mentioned, this is just the prologue- just so yk the bg )) I'm thinking of doing 5 chapters max bt those are not even close to finishing.. just bits and pieces🫠 so final update will be only when I've finished AND satisfied with what I've written :) pls be patient <3

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

---------------------------------------------------

Jeon Jungkook believed in a lot of things. But love wasn’t one of them.

Because it wasn’t a necessity in Jungkook’s life.

Love? That four-letter word people threw around like it held the universe together? He didn’t get it. Never had. Never wanted to.

He doesn’t believe in love. Not in the way movies or books paint it. Love is just a concept people cling to.

People made it sound like some grand, life-altering miracle. Like one person could walk in and suddenly your world shifted on its axis. Jungkook never understood how that worked. Why people gave up sleep and sanity and sometimes, even logic, for something so unpredictable.

He never saw the point.

What he did understand? Stability. Purpose. Building something that lasted—not based on feelings, but on facts. Work gave him that. Running Jeon & Co gave him that. He liked being in control. Liked knowing the next step.

And to be fair, his life was good. Great, even.

He had everything he wanted. His career, his family, and his dog- Bam curled up by his feet at the end of every day.

He didn’t need dinners for two. He didn’t need someone to hold. He didn’t need to wake up next to someone who snored or stole his covers or left their shampoo bottles next to his.

He liked the quiet.

He’d seen people fall in love, watched it bloom around him like a damn rom-com montage. Everyone around him seemed to be in on this big- clued into this big magical concept that just didn’t land for him. Like they’d all read a manual he somehow missed.

Love, to him, wasn’t something worth chasing.

So no, he doesn't dream of it.

His older brother, Seojun, was the one originally set to take over Jeon & Co. But somewhere in university, he got an interest in cameras, film reels. So he changed paths, started his own production house- something he was passionate about, something the family supported. Jeon Seojun, now happily married to the love of his life, Harin, and later blessed with a cute little bundle of joy—Rae.

Then there was his sister, Aera—also married, already a successful fashion designer, living abroad with her artist husband and sending aesthetic postcards from every continent.

That left Jungkook. The youngest. The one who was good at everything.

The golden boy. The straight-A student, top of his class, excelled in everything he touched.

So he took the reins. Quietly. No complaints. Took the company to even greater heights. Built Jeon & Co into one of the most respected names in the industry.

He didn’t need anything else.

His life was simple, structured, successful. And he liked it that way.

But now, the gentle nudges from his family started turning into obvious conversations- about marriage.

Even his grandmother had joined the marriage cheer squad, talking about how nice it would be to see him settled, how much she wants to see her youngest grandson married while she’s still around.

They’d been patient for years. But lately, it was like everyone in the Jeon family had decided enough was enough.

So when his mother casually mentioned over dinner that they’d been talking to a friend about a potential match—a lovely girl, smart, already familiar with the family- something in Jungkook snapped.

He didn’t even want to get married—least of all to someone he didn’t know. Not a life partner chosen by someone else. Not a stranger who’ll live with him, sleep beside him, and share the parts of him he doesn’t even know how to share.

So he did the only thing that made sense in that moment.

“I already have a girlfriend.”

The room had gone silent.

Five pairs of eyes stared at him.

And now, here he is, wondering what kind of fucking mess he’s dragged himself into just to avoid being shackled into a marriage with a stranger.

But Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t let anyone dictate what he did with his life.

Especially not when it came to his heart.

Love, was a chaos.

And chaos had no place in his life.

Later that night, he called Taehyung,—the one person who’s been there since their school days, unsure of whether he needed a plan or just someone to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind.

Taehyung, in fact, didn’t think it was that bad of a situation at all. At least not one without a potential fix.

That’s when the idea came up—something so bizarre and impractical. Jungkook couldn’t believe he was actually considering it,

A fake marriage.

Taehyung had suggested like it was the most logical solution. Just a year. One year of pretending to be in love and married. Long enough to satisfy his family, long enough for everyone to believe it had been real. And then—well, things wouldn’t work out. They’d “divorce,” separate, move on with their lives.

At first, Jungkook dismissed it outright.

He couldn’t fathom the idea of someone sharing his space. His home was the only part of his life untouched by the outside world. His world ran on precision and privacy. Letting someone into that world- even under a fake arrangement, felt like crossing a line he’d drawn years ago.

And besides, it couldn’t be just anyone. His family wasn’t stupid. If he suddenly showed up with a complete stranger, they’d see through it in a second.

That’s when Taehyung said he might know someone—that he trusted, that she was dependable. She wasn’t from Jungkook’s world, which might actually work in their favor.

Taehyung promised to talk to her first, see if she’d even be willing to consider something this ridiculous.

The entire idea of a fake marriage felt childish. But the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. At least this way, he’d have control over who entered his life, buy him a year of peace—freedom from the constant “marriage talk”.

Just one year, after all.

"It’s the third time I’m saying no, Taehyung. Don’t you get it?"

You huffed into the phone, flopping down into your office chair. Your cardigan sleeves were already pushed up from the two-hour lecture you'd just delivered, your notes still a mess on your desk.

You had barely gotten a sip of water before your phone buzzed, and of course—of course, it was Taehyung.

“I’m not asking you to marry a serial killer,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s Jungkook.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “The CEO Jeon Jungkook. Not exactly someone I see fake marrying for any reason.”

Your voice dropped to a whisper-shout as you turned away from the glass pane in your office door.

You’d never met Jeon Jungkook before. Not even once. Just heard about him in passing from Taehyung. "My best friend from school," he’d always say, tossing the name around like it was no big deal.

Like Jeon Jungkook wasn’t this corporate enigma. A hot prodigy in business, son of a chaebol family, making a name for himself in the most unnervingly silent way.

You remembered the buzz when it had happened—articles, interviews, headlines, the ‘mystery heir’ who never spoke unless he had to. He disappeared from the public eye just as quickly, and that was that.

Until Taehyung showed up at your door yesterday, looking far too excited for someone about to propose a fake marriage arrangement.

It had sounded insane at first. Because it was insane.

Taehyung had explained you the situation Jungkook got himself into, with the same energy someone might use to pitch a movie script.

And what was his solution?

You.

“It’s just a year,” he said now, voice sliding back into persuasion-mode. “One year. So it looks real. You two live together. Make it convincing enough so his family backs off. Then you divorce, like fake divorce whatever, and it’s over! No harm done. It's not like you're actually getting married.”

You stared at the ceiling, “Tae. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

He snorted. “Neither is rent in Seoul. Come on. You told me your roommate left, you’ve been searching for a new place. This solves that plus you get paid too! A logical person would never say no to this, Y/N. You don’t have to pretend in front of the whole world. Just his family. Think of it like a job.”

You bit your lip, annoyed by how tempting that actually sounded. You were indeed searching for a new place ever since your roommate had gotten transferred across the country. You hadn’t realized how ridiculously unaffordable rent was until you’d started living alone. And this offer, as ridiculous as it sounded, came with a house and money.

Still. A fake marriage?

You weren’t exactly the fake-it kind of girl. You'd always held this quiet belief in old-school romance. The kind that was built slowly, like a soft song that stayed. But you’d also lived long enough to know life wasn’t a movie.

Back in your student days, you’d buried yourself in textbooks, not people. Relationships weren’t something that you felt urgent back then.

Then life happened. Work took over. The days got busy, and dating just… never found its way in.

About finding someone naturally, in moments that didn't feel curated.

Love, to you, was about ease.

But you'd still tried some years back- a few blind dates your friends sent you on, awkward setups, the usual.

But nothing ever felt right. Nothing ever felt real.

Romance was something you assumed would fall into place eventually.

You wanted something that just... happened.

When it was meant to.

And now, after years of quietly waiting for something real, you were being considered for the role of a fake wife.

You almost scoffed at the absurdity.

“He doesn’t even know me,” you sighed.

“He knows I trust you. That’s enough for him. So technically he won't be letting a complete stranger moving into his house,” Taehyung said, like that explained everything.

You blinked. “So I’m just... the least suspicious option?”

“That's just a bonus,” Taehyung laughed. "But no, really, just think about it."

“What if his family hates me? And his mom throws a Birkin at my head?”

He groaned. “You’re being dramatic. They’re nice people, Y/N. No one's gonna throw anything at you, I promise.”

“I mean, come on,” Taehyung added playfully. “I just know you’re gonna be a really good actor.”

You rolled your eyes at the unnecessary buttering he was doing.

You could’ve actually considered this whole fake marriage drama. Because as much as it sounded stupid, sure, but it also sounded fun to you.

But again, he wasn’t just any man.

You were just a regular girl with a regular job and a "not-so-glamorous" life. But you enjoy it, being a university professor with a cluttered desk, a habit of losing your pens at least three times a day and considered laundry a full-body workout. You liked your little routines.

But you were also someone who definitely didn't live in the same world as his.

So the idea of faking a marriage- especially to someone like Jeon Jungkook, a man who basically belonged in the pages of Forbes—felt so far out of your league it was laughable.

Even thinking about being tangled in something like this with someone like him felt strange.

But maybe...

it wouldn’t be the worst idea.

It was almost New Year’s. And People made wild resolutions all the time, right?

Maybe this was a little main character arc you never saw coming.

It’s not like you had wild plans for New Year’s anyway.

Just one year, after all.

What worse could happen?

---------------------------------------------------

[kooklovee]

thankkuuu for mentioning Hold on to me!! 🤗🥰

damn GOOOD fic recs ✮⋆˙

welcome to the void .ᐟ

⭑ hi i'm rina, i mostly rot here reading fics tbh ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 thought i'd start dropping some of the bangers i stumble across 🖤 hope ya'll find something worth losing sleep over ⭑ not a minor ⭑ she / her ⭑ all bangtan sfw / nsfw fics !

warning: ⚠️ not all but MOST recs are 18+ — not safe, not soft, and definitely not for kids. minors, do not interact. disclaimer: i do not own any of the fics i rec. all credit goes to the original writers. if i ever miss a tag or you want your work removed, just lmk. this blog exists to scream about good writing, nothing else. also, this list's probably gonna get REAL long, so i'll most likely sort everything by member using separate links in the future.

the collection .ᐟ

[ ☁️ ] – fluff [ 🖤 ] – angst [ 🥛 ] – smut [ ⭐ ] – favorite

──★ knj

one shot

new guy by @kithtaehyung [ 🥛 ] pairing: fuckboi!namjoon x organization president!reader word count: 5.5k status: completed slow mornings by @purplemoon7 [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x black!reader word count: 2.1k status: completed

──★ ksj

... coming soon

──★ myg

series

oh! darling by @yoongiofmine [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: prof!yoongi x student!reader word count: 108k status: completed three tangerines by @kithtaehyung [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: brother's bestfriend!yoongi x reader word count: – status: on-going schemin' by @dollfaceksj [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: producer!yoongi x rapper!reader word count: 70.2k status: completed matilda by @babystrcandy [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: brother's best friend!yoongi x reader word count: 141.7k status: completed family matters by @explicit-tae [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: husband's brother!yoongi x reader word count: – status: on-going

one shot

contrition by hobisdmpl [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: priest!yoongi x stripper!reader word count: 12k status: completed primae noctis by @jimlingss [ 🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: god!yoongi x virgin!reader word count: 5.5k status: completed exitus acta probat by @bang-tan-bitches [ 🖤🥛 ] pairing: kidnapper!yoongi x reader word count: 7.2k status: completed hard liquor by @chateautae [ 🥛 ] pairing: executive boss!yoongi x employee!reader word count: 8k status: completed eargasm by @lavishedinjimin [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: sex hotline!operator yoongi x innocent!reader word count: 9.5k status: completed

──★ jhs

... coming soon

──★ pjm

... coming soon

──★ kth

one shot

pregnancy kink by @jiniretracha [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: boyfriend!taehyung x pregnant!reader word count: 1.5k status: completed

──★ jjk

series

dilf jk series by @venusiangguk [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: dilf!jungkook x grocery store clerk!reader word count: – status: on-going still don't know your name by @dollfaceksj [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: neighbor!jungkook x reader word count: 29k status: completed lowkey by @xpeachesncream [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: nerd!jungkook x popular!reader word count: 64.2k status: completed the hit list by @whoretan [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x introvert!reader word count: – status: on-going taste of a poison paradise by @dollfaceksj [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x reader word count: 91.1k status: completed throttle by @alphabetboyluvr [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: racer!jungkook x gasoline station cashier!reader word count: 160k status: completed beast of busan by @trivia-yandere [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: serial killer!jungkook x reader word count: 18.6k status: completed milf by @trivia-yandere [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: son's best friend!jungkook x milf!reader word count: – status: on-going sibling rivalry by @trivia-yandere [ 🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: step brother!jungkook x step sister!reader word count: 13.7k status: completed starstruck by @trivia-yandere [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: actor!jungkook x newbie actress!reader word count: – status: on-going between takes by @jeonstudios [ ☁️🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: porn star!jungkook x fluffer!reader word count: 30.4k status: completed

one shot

magnolia by @dovechim [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: jungkook x pregnant!reader word count: 3k status: completed begging for mercy by @jeonsalibi [ 🥛 ] pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x client!reader word count: 4.6k status: completed the pink pill by @dollfaceksj [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader word count: 9.1k status: completed exclamation mark by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: tattoo artist!jungkook x client!reader word count: 6.7k status: completed instant gratification by @dovechim [ 🥛 ] pairing: fuckboi!jungkook x cheerleader!reader word count: 7k status: completed anti-baby fever by gashinabts [ ☁️🖤🥛 ] pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader word count: 4.5k status completed cheer by @btssaysstudy [ ☁️ ] pairing: athlete!jungkook x cheerleader!reader word count: 9.9k status: completed lemme take care of you by @ahgasegotarmy116 [ ☁️🥛⭐ ] pairing: baby daddy!jungkook x baby mommy!reader word count: 2k staus: completed ghostface killer by @7brownsuga7 [ 🥛 ] pairing: ghostface!jungkook x reader word count: 1k status: completed a pierce through the heart by @reredaydreams [ 🥛 ] pairing: tattoo artist & piercer!jungkook x client!reader word count: 6k status: completed fucking you right by @babystarbun [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: step brother!jungkook x step sister!reader word count: 6.4k status: completed baby o baby by @aajjks [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: jungkook x reader word count: 1.5k status: completed kerosene by @joonberriess [ 🖤🥛⭐ ] pairing: obsessive!jungkook x older!reader word count: 15k status: completed hold on to me by @kooklovee [ 🖤🥛 ] pairing: ceo!husband x wife!reader word count: 11k status: completed

──★ multiple members

series

mami by @kithtaehyung [ 🥛 ] pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader , rapper!namjoon x reader word count: – status: on-going (or maybe discontinued idk) please be naked by @floralseokjin [ ☁️🖤🥛 ] pairing: namjoon x reader , yoongi x reader word count: 61.1k status: completed

one shot

steam by @hoseoksluna [ 🥛 ] pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook) word count: 9.2k status: completed waiting for by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: yoongi x reader (feat. jungkook) word count: 5.1k status: completed monster by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: mafia boss!yoongi x reader x bodyguard!jungkook word count: 4.6k status: completed all night by @axigailxo [ 🥛 ] pairing: namjoon x reader x yoongi word count: 4.5k status: completed truth or dare? by @letjungcoook7 [ 🥛 ] pairing: jungkook x reader x yoongi word count: 5.5k status: completed fill with fire, exhale desire by @whatifyoulivelikethat [ 🥛⭐ ] pairing: smoker!jungkook x reader word count: 26.7k status: completed

thank you ~ ���

i'll be adding more fics as i go—so stick around. for now, take your time, read something beautiful. huge love to all the incredible writers behind these works!