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The sun poured through the kitchen windows as the clock ticked lazily into the afternoon.

Jungkook stood at the center of the kitchen, her small figure absorbed in the endless recipe videos on the tablet in front of her.

Her eyes were wide with determination as she scrolled through countless videos, each one suggesting a new flavor for their baking adventure.

Taehyung was leaning casually against the counter. His arms were crossed, and he wore that familiar, soft smile of his, the one reserved only for her.

"So... we've been watching baking videos for an hour now," Taehyung remarked, his voice light, teasing. "Have you made up your mind yet, wifey?"

Jungkook looked up, eyes squinting as she tried to focus. She tapped a finger against her chin, pouting slightly as she debated between two flavors.

"Hmm, I'm torn," she admitted, her voice thoughtful. "I'm leaning towards chocolate, but then again, strawberry has that comforting feel..." She flicked her gaze back to Taehyung. "What do you think?"

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming in the best way. "I think," he said slowly, taking a moment to savour the way she was looking at him with that adorable uncertainty, "we should make strawberry"

Jungkook's lips parted in a little gasp of delight. "You think so?"

"I do," Taehyung said, his smirk growing more mischievous. "Besides, I'll eat whatever you bake, so it doesn't really matter."

Jungkook playfully nudged his shoulder, giggling.  As her eyes returned to the tablet, she made up her mind. "Okay, strawberry it is."

But Taehyung, as always, couldn't help but flirt. His gaze lingered on her, his smirk growing as he admired her appearance. Jungkook was dressed in a stunning lemon-colored dress, the soft fabric billowing out like a delicate cloud.

His heart skipped a beat and despite his attempts to maintain his composure, he couldn't stop the teasing smile that spread across his face.

Jungkook was oblivious to his blatant staring, too focused on measuring the sugar. Her brows furrowed in concentration, her lips pursed in a way that only made Taehyung want to lean in and—

He bit the inside of his cheek.

He had won this morning's argument, and now, he was reaping the rewards.

Jungkook had always preferred longer dresses—flowing and graceful, with hems that kissed her ankles and sleeves that covered her wrists. She liked the comfort of them.

He smirked, recalling their little debate that morning.

—Earlier that day—

This morning, they had stood in the closet, Jungkook clutching a longer dress while Taehyung held up this one, wiggling his brows.

"I don't know..." she had hesitated, hugging the fabric of her original choice against her chest.

"Why not?" Taehyung had pressed, his voice teasing but firm. "It's perfect for a warm afternoon."

"It's short."

"That's the best part."

Jungkook had scoffed, rolling her eyes, but Taehyung had seen the way her fingers lingered on the lemon-colored fabric. He had grinned then, stepping closer, lowering his voice.

"Just once, hmm?" he had murmured, nudging the dress toward her. "Humor your husband."

And maybe it was the way he said it—low, coaxing, undeniably confident—but the next thing he knew, Jungkook had sighed in defeat and grabbed the dress from his hands.

And now, here she was, standing in their sunlit kitchen, completely unaware of how effortlessly she had captured his entire world.

Jungkook suddenly turned, catching the way his gaze lingered on her bare legs.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're staring."

Taehyung tilted his head. "Am I?"

Jungkook crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're being weird."

Taehyung smirked, pushing off the counter and sauntering over until he was standing right in front of her. He leaned down slightly, voice dropping into something velvety and warm.

"I just think," he murmured, his fingers brushing he waist, "that you should wear short dresses more often."

Jungkook placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, yes. How could I forget? Mr. Kim has a thing for short dresses."

Taehyung smirked. "Guilty."

She scoffed, stepping forward until there was barely an inch between them. "Tell me, dear husband, are you appreciating the dress... or the view?"

Taehyung leaned down, his gaze lazily dragging over her from head to toe. "Can't I appreciate both?"

Jungkook rolled her eyes, but the pink creeping up her neck betrayed her.

"Wifey," he purred, leaning against the counter. "You look like you just stepped out of a fairy tale."

His fingers brushed against her waist, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I knew you'd look good in this."

Jungkook swatted his hand away, but Taehyung only chuckled, clearly entertained.

"You act like I wore this for you," she said, raising a brow.

Taehyung grinned. "Didn't you?"

Jungkook turned on her heel, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she went back to the counter. "If you're done ogling, Mr. Kim, we have a cake to bake."

Taehyung just chuckled, sliding in beside her. "Fine. But just so you know, this is my favorite outfit of yours."

Jungkook scoffed. "Of course it is."

Taehyung took a slow step forward, his lips curling into a smirk as he watched her every move.

Jungkook huffed, trying to ignore the way his words made her heart flutter.

"Mr. Kim, focus! We have a cake to bake," she said, crossing her arms as she looked up at him with seriousness.

"But how can I focus on baking when my beautiful wife looks like a lemon tart?" he said, his voice low and teasing.

Taehyung took another step closer, his warm presence enveloping her as he leaned down just enough to whisper in her ear.
"And if I remember correctly you still owe me a reward for picking the cake flavor."

Jungkook turned to grab a small basket of ripe, plump strawberries and shoved it into his chest with a smirk.

"There's your reward," she said sweetly. "Wash them thoroughly and then cut them into perfect little slices. We need them for the filling and decoration."

Taehyung let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "God, I love you."

Jungkook huffed, grabbing the sugar. "Yeah, yeah. Now get to work, loverboy."

Taehyung rolled up his sleeves, stepping over to the sink. He turned on the faucet, letting the cool water run over his fingers before carefully rinsing each strawberry.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was in her own little world, pouring the dry ingredients into a large mixing bowl. Flour puffed into the air like soft clouds, a sprinkle landing on her left cheek without her noticing. She hummed under her breath, tapping the rim of the bowl with her spoon as she double-checked the measurements.

Taehyung turned around just in time to see her furrow her brows in concentration, her lips pursed as she studied the recipe. His eyes softened.

"You've got flour on your cheek," he said casually.

Jungkook blinked, confused. "Huh?"

Before she could react, Taehyung reached out, his thumb swiping gently across the apple of her left rosy cheek. The touch was featherlight, staying just a second longer than necessary.

Jungkook's breath hitched.

"There," he murmured, his voice smooth, teasing. "All clean."

Jungkook scowled, smacking his wrist away. "You could've just told me!"

"But where's the fun in that?" Taehyung grinned, setting the washed strawberries aside. "You're too cute when you're flustered."

Jungkook turned her back on him with a dramatic huff. "Focus on your strawberry duty, Mr. Kim."

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed a knife, beginning to slice the fruit. But he kept sneaking glances at her, enjoying the way she muttered under her breath while measuring sugar—her cheeks still slightly pinkish from his touch.

Yeah. This was his favorite version of her.

Jungkook was determined—determined—to focus on the batter. She had already sifted the flour, cracked the eggs, and was gently folding the mixture together, her lips pressed in concentration.

But her husband was a menace.

Taehyung, who was supposed to be on strawberry duty, had finished his task far too quickly. She had barely blinked before he was at her side again, casually wiping his hands on a kitchen towel and observing her every move like a particularly amused spectator.

Jungkook pretended not to notice. She stirred the batter with extra focus, keeping her gaze firmly on the mixing bowl.

If she just ignored him, maybe—just maybe—he'd behave.

But, of course, that was wishful thinking. Because menace was Kim Taehyung's middle name and right now, that menace had found its next target: her focus.

Taehyung leaned in, just barely brushing against her side, his chin hovering dangerously close to her shoulder as he peered into the bowl.

"Is it supposed to look like that?" he asked innocently, voice low and curious—way too close to her ear.

Jungkook's hand twitched mid-stir. "Yes," she replied through gritted teeth. "It's fine."

"Hmm." Taehyung didn't move back. Instead, he rested an elbow on the counter and tilted his head toward her, all faux-curiosity and real mischief. "Looks a little stiff to me."

"It's not stiff," she snapped, still not looking at him. "It's just—folding gently. Like the video said."

Taehyung hummed, unconvinced, and Jungkook felt his eyes trailing over her face, her hands, her dress like he was analyzing some secret code in her process and then, without warning, he moved.

His arms came around her waist from behind, wrapping around her middle like it was the most natural thing in the world. Jungkook stiffened for half a second, the bowl wobbling slightly in her grasp before she found her balance again.

"Mr Kim," she warned, her voice sharp, but far too soft to be taken seriously. "We are in the middle of baking."

"So am I," he murmured near her ear, his breath warm as it ghosted over her skin. "Baking in your love. Let me be."

Jungkook snorted despite herself. "That's not even a real pun."

"Doesn't need to be," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder now, his cheek pressed lightly to hers. His arms tightened a little around her, just enough to pull her back gently into him, so her back settled against his chest.

"Stop it," jungkook muttered, more breath than voice.

"I haven't even done anything," he whispered, and she could feel the smirk in his tone.

Jungkook raised the whisk threateningly. "I swear to god, if you flirt one more time—"

"—you'll fall harder in love with me?" he finished, leaning closer, his grin wolfish now. "Yeah, I'm willing to take that risk."

Jungkook huffed, defeated by his charm, and turned back to her bowl. "Menace," she muttered under her breath, resuming her folding with slightly more force than necessary.

Taehyung only chuckled softly behind her.

Then, without warning, his hand slid over hers. He didn't stop her, just softened her movements, guiding the whisk with quiet affection.

With his chest still pressed lightly to her back, Taehyung took her hand in his, his thumbs slowly brushing over her fingers, smearing the faintest dusting of flour from her knuckles. He tilted his head down, letting his gaze fall to the ring on her finger.

It was already there, of course—had been since the day he'd slipped it on her hand with trembling fingers and a heart full of promises.

He turned her palm slightly, admiring how the afternoon light hit the curve of metal. "It still looks better on you than I imagined," he murmured.

Jungkook, still stirring, glanced down at their joined hands—and then at the ring on his

The match to hers.

Her lips twitched, just barely. "You're staring at our hands like it's a painting in a museum."

He chuckled, "That's because it is."

Jungkook rolled her eyes—but didn't pull away. Instead, she stopped mixing. Let the silence settle. Let herself feel the way his arms came back around her waist, how his chin rested lightly on her shoulder, how his fingers remained tangled with hers.

"You know," she whispered, "when you're not being a brat, you're actually kind of sweet."

Taehyung smiled into her neck, voice rumbling against her skin. "Don't let that get out. I've got a reputation to maintain."

Jungkook exhaled a soft laugh, then leaned her head against his, their rings catching the light once more as their hands rested side by side over the counter—moon and star, crescent and shine.

They lingered in that soft bubble—Jungkook's back pressed against Taehyung's chest. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the kitchen window.

Then, with a slight, teasing nudge, she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze over her shoulder. Her eyes sparkled with that familiar blend of affection and mischief.

"Now, Mr Kim, please be useful and fetch the vanilla extract,"

Taehyung didn't budge. Instead, he tightened his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her even closer so that her back curved perfectly into his chest. His breath tickled the shell of her ear as he whispered with a sly grin, "I thought you liked having me close."

Jungkook turned her head sharply, ready to snap at him, but the moment their noses nearly brushed, her brain short-circuited.

Taehyung grinned, clearly entertained.

Jungkook scowled, cheeks burning. "Go get the vanilla."

"Say please."

"Tae."

"Say it sweetly, and I might consider."

Jungkook's lips curled into what looked like a sweet smile. But Taehyung should have known better.

Snap!

A soft shimmer of magic flickered in the air, and the vanilla extract appeared right in Jungkook's waiting palm.

Taehyung blinked.

Jungkook twirled the bottle between her fingers, tilting her head. "Oh, were you expecting something else?" she asked, voice dripping with fake innocence.

Taehyung exhaled a slow, deep breath. "You are so—"

"Efficient? Capable? Absolutely brilliant?" Jungkook supplied, unscrewing the cap and adding a splash of vanilla into the batter.

Taehyung recovered far too quickly, the stunned look in his eyes replaced by something far more devilish. He hummed, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter, watching her with poorly concealed amusement.

"Wow," he mused, shaking his head in faux admiration. "My wifey finally has confidence in her magic. Deciding to act like a true Alara instead of a mere mortal."

Jungkook, in the middle of stirring the batter, froze. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head toward him, her glare sharp enough to cut through steel.

Taehyung, completely unbothered, only smirked wider.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I'm just impressed. You finally realized magic exists for a reason and stopped pretending to be—how do I put this?—an ordinary human?"

Jungkook narrowed her eyes. She knew exactly where this was going.

"Unlike, say... that night?" Taehyung continued, tapping his chin as if recalling something monumental. "When my dear wife struggled to reach the top shelf for a mere box?"

Jungkook's grip on the whisk tightened.

"Ah, yes," Taehyung sighed dramatically. "Such an emotional moment. Watching you tiptoe like a little bunny, stretching your arms so hard I thought you'd lift off the ground." He shook his head, as if heartbroken. "And to think, one little snap of your fingers could've solved everything."

Jungkook inhaled sharply. "Mr Kim."

"And yet, today," Taehyung interrupted smoothly, eyes twinkling with pure mischief, "for something as simple as getting vanilla from across the counter, magic was perfectly acceptable."

Jungkook hated that he had a point. He was so enjoying this.
Jungkook squared her shoulders, lifting her chin defiantly. "It's called selective convenience, Mr. Kim. You wouldn't understand."

Taehyung chuckled. "Oh, I understand perfectly. My wifey likes to struggle in the dead of night, but not when it concerns baking. Got it."

Jungkook's glare deepened. She inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together.

Ignore him. Ignore him.
Ignore him. Ignore him.
Ignore him. Ignore him.
Ignore him. Ignore him.

With great restraint, she turned back to the mixing bowl, whisking the batter with a bit more force than necessary. The wooden spoon made an aggressive squelching sound as it swirled through the thick mixture.

Taehyung, for once, stayed quiet.

Not because he had run out of things to say—never that. But because he knew his very fine limits. And teasing Jungkook past that limit meant only one thing: banishment.

He had learned the hard way that when his smol fireball got truly angry, it was no joke.

So, for now, he stayed put, observing his wife as she mixed the batter with steaming rage. The way her lips pressed into a tight pout, the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the way her little nose flared ever so slightly—it was adorable.

Deadly, but adorable.

The mixture had become heavier with every fold, and no matter how much effort Jungkook put in, it felt like she was barely making progress.

Taehyung watched as she struggled, his arms folded over his chest, his smirk only growing with every little huff that escaped her lips.

The wife bit her lip, glancing at the batter and then at the man beside her.

Well... he does have those ridiculously strong arms...

With a dramatic sigh, Jungkook set the whisk down and took a step closer to him. Without a word, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and gave it a tiny tug.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "Hmm? What's this, wifey?"

Jungkook huffed, tilting her head up to look at him properly. Why did he have to be so tall? She refused to crane her neck any further.

"You do it."

Taehyung placed a hand over his heart. "Me?"

Jungkook gave him a flat look.

"Yes, you. Your muscles aren't just for decoration, you know." Jungkook scowled, poking at his bicep. "What's the point of having these big arms if you're not going to put them to good use?"

Taehyung let out a low whistle, tilting his head. "Ah... so you do like my arms, huh?"

Jungkook's face burned as she realized what she had just said. "That's not the point! Just mix the batter before my arms fall off!"

Laughing, he finally took the whisk from her hands, flexing his fingers as if preparing for a great battle. "Alright, alright, let's put these 'big, veiny arms' to work."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but stepped aside, watching as Taehyung easily took over. And God, it was unfair how effortlessly he handled it.

His large hands gripped the bowl, his arms flexing subtly as he mixed with controlled motions. The veins on his forearms shifted with each turn, and Jungkook found herself momentarily... distracted.

Taehyung, being the menace he was, noticed.

"Enjoying the view, Mrs. Kim?" he teased, smirking without even looking at her.

Jungkook's breath hitched, and she quickly crossed her arms, scowling. "Focus on mixing!"

Taehyung chuckled. "Oh, I am." He turned his head slightly, lowering his voice. "But I don't think you are."

Jungkook crossed her arms tightly, lips pressed into a thin line as she glared at Taehyung's smirk. But inside, a little spark of mischief lit up. If he was going to be a menace, well... she could be one too.

With a calculated step forward, she slipped right between him and the counter, effectively blocking his view—and more importantly, his access to the bowl. Taehyung blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her sudden boldness.

Her fingers trailed slowly over the fabric of his shirt, brushing across his chest with the softest touch. The warmth beneath her fingertips made the muscles there tense just slightly, and she could feel his heartbeat under her palm.

Taehyung's smirk deepened. "Well, well, wifey. Decided to sabotage your lover boy, have you?"

Jungkook didn't answer immediately. Instead, her hands clenched the collar of Taehyung's shirt with an unexpected strength, pulling him down sharply before he could even process what was happening.

Taehyung stumbled forward, surprised by the sudden assertiveness, but he didn't resist. Instead, he watched as Jungkook closed the gap between them.

Her lips crushed against his. Her hands roamed up from his shirt collar to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair as she tugged him closer, deepening the kiss.

Taehyung's eyes widened in surprise at first, caught completely off guard by the suddenness and intensity. But the shock quickly melted as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly close.

One second, he was mixing the batter with that smug smirk she hated so much, and the next—his beautifully chaotic wife had him by the collar and was kissing him like she owned him.

Because she did.

As their lips moved together in a heated dance, Taehyung suddenly caught a strange, sweet tang mingling with her warmth. His senses sharpened, and he realized—there were tiny bits of strawberry pressed against his tongue, mingling with the heat and urgency of their kiss.

He blinked in surprise, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected flavor, but the shock only deepened the intensity between them. The strawberries made the kiss all the more intoxicating.

Jungkook tilted her head slightly, deepening the kiss, and he followed her lead without hesitation. Her mouth moved expertly against his—parting, teasing, biting just enough to leave his lips tingling. Her tongue flicked against his lower lip, and then the faintest taste of strawberry exploded again, making him gasp softly, lost in her rhythm.

And the worst part?

He hadn't seen it coming.

He hadn't seen when she plopped those strawberry bits into her mouth, hadn't seen the plan forming behind those sparkly, innocent eyes. She had just done it, like a wifey-turned-siren, weaponizing sweetness and heat at the same time.

He was stunned. And thoroughly wrecked.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes gleamed with wicked triumph. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks faintly pink, and her breathing shallow.

Taehyung was still frozen, chest rising and falling, trying to recover his thoughts—any of them.

Jungkook smirked lazily, dragging her thumb across his bottom lip, wiping away a glisten of strawberry juice that wasn't hers anymore.

"Still feel like teasing me, Mr. Kim?" she asked, voice low, sultry, and unbearably smug.

He leaned in just enough to brush his forehead against hers, his breath warm and steady.

"Not a chance, Mrs Kim" he murmured.

Taehyung's lips quirked into a sly smile as he pulled back just a fraction, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "When did you sneak those strawberries into your mouth, huh? I didn't see you pick any."

Jungkook's smirk deepened, the corner of her mouth curling into a teasing grin. She tilted her head, letting her dark hair cascade over one shoulder as she shot back with perfect timing, "Oh, I don't know... maybe while my husband was too busy flexing and boosting those 'muscles' of his."

Taehyung's eyes sparkled with amusement as he caught her playful jab, his smirk widening into a full, mischievous grin. "Smart wifey," he remarked, his tone dripping with affection and teasing all at once. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Jungkook crossed her arms. "Of course. Someone's got to keep you in check."

He laughed, shaking his head as he picked up the whisk again. "Alright, alright. Now that you've humiliated me properly, how about we finish this batter? Then maybe I'll reward my smol troublemaker."

Jungkook rolled her eyes but didn't miss a beat. With a sharp smack to his arm, she jabbed, "Smol troublemaker? Seriously, Mr. Kim, watch your mouth."

Taehyung yelped, rubbing his arm with an exaggeratedly, but the playful spark in his eyes never dimmed. The wife turned to the counter, already pulling out the baking tray, lining it carefully with parchment paper.

"Now, get to mixing," she said, tossing him the whisk with a grin that promised no mercy. "We have a cake to bake, and I expect it to be perfect — just like me."

Taehyung caught the whisk with a smirk, ready to dive back in, but both of them knew this baking session was about so much more than just cake.

__

The kitchen had finally calmed down, the earlier chaos settling into a gentle quiet as the cake was being baked in the oven. A warm, vanilla-scented aroma curled into the air, filling the space with a comforting sweetness.

Taehyung stood by the counter, his body relaxed, but his posture slightly bent forward as Jungkook clung to him from behind.

Perched on the marble countertop, her legs dangled freely, toes barely brushing against his thighs. Her arms were wrapped snugly around his torso, her fingers loosely interlocked over his stomach. Her chin rested on his shoulder, the soft tickle of her breath fanning against his skin.

A comfortable silence stretched between them. Then, Jungkook exhaled softly.

"I always wanted to open a restaurant one day."

Taehyung blinked, his gaze sharpening slightly. "Really?"

Jungkook nodded, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "Not just a small shop, but a big one. Something warm and welcoming. A place where people don't just come to eat but feel at home." Her voice softened. "I want it to be mine."

There was something different in the way she spoke—not just a casual wish, but a deep-rooted yearning.

Taehyung watched her carefully, "You never told me that before."

Jungkook shrugged, offering a small smile, "Never really had the chance to say it out loud."

Taehyung's fingers tapped lightly against the counter as he studied her expression—the way her gaze held a quiet determination, yet her lips pressed together like she was holding back something heavier.

Jungkook exhaled, her voice dipping into something quieter, "Mothe—she never let me forget where I came from."

Taehyung stilled.

Jungkook let out a short, humorless chuckle, her eyes staring off at nothing in particular, "Even when I was little, she'd always remind me. 'You're a courtesan's daughter, Jungkook. You should know your place.'"

Taehyung's jaw tightened. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides.

"She said I could never dream of something that wasn't meant for people like me. That no one would take me seriously if I tried." Jungkook shook her head slightly, her lips pressing into a bitter smile. "I guess that's why I never told anyone. It felt pointless."

Taehyung's heart twisted. The way Jungkook said it—like she had spent her whole life convincing herself that her dreams weren't worth speaking out loud.

He hated it.

He hated that Kara's voice still echoed in Jungkook's head, staining even the things that should have been purely hers.

"I applied to your company to prove something." Her voice was soft but beneath it lay a quiet defiance. "Not just to Mother—but to myself. That I could be more than just my name. That I wasn't bound to the life she always said I would return to."

Taehyung didn't move. He let her speak, his hands curling into loose fists as he watched her unravel things she had never said before.

"I wanted to work—really work. Not just be someone's ornament, not just be 'a pretty face' for some rich man at a party." Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Mother used to tell me that women like us didn't get to choose. That our only real power was how well we played the role men wanted us to."

Taehyung's jaw clenched. He could imagine it. He could hear it in the way Jungkook repeated Kara's words—not with anger, but with something far worse.

Resignation.

"And then the party happened," Jungkook muttered, hugging herself.

Taehyung's brows furrowed. "What party?"

She let out a bitter laugh. "The CEO's party. One of those luxurious, high-class events where deals are made over drinks, and women are just... decorations." She swallowed. "I refused to dance for someone that night. A big investor, apparently. Mother was furious."

Jungkook's voice had dropped, quieter now, but not weak. Never weak. If anything, there was a quiet steel in the way she spoke—like she had long since learned how to hold herself together even when the world around her tried to break her down.

He swallowed down the fury bubbling in his chest. His voice was calm when he spoke, too calm. "Who was it?"

Jungkook stilled. She wasn't naive. She knew exactly why he was asking—why his voice had dipped into something slow and calculated, why his fingers had stopped tapping against the counter.

A slow smile tugged at her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes. "And what would you do with that information, my dear husband?"

Taehyung met her gaze, unwavering. "Nothing drastic."

Jungkook arched a brow. "That's a lie."

Taehyung's fingers curled slightly against the counter. "I just want to know who thought they could look at you like that."

His voice was deceptively light, but there was an edge to it—something sharp, something dangerous.

Jungkook watched him carefully. Then, suddenly, she shifted forward, wrapping her arms loosely around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"He isn't worth your time."

Taehyung's breath hitched as Jungkook's lips brushed softly against his cheek from behind, the unexpected tenderness igniting a spark deep within him.

Slowly, his fingers curling gently around the hand wrapped around his shoulder. He brought her palm to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there, his eyes closing briefly as if to savor the connection.

He wanted to promise her that no one—no one—would ever dare to look at her like that again.

But Jungkook had already moved on. She had walked away from that world. And as much as it burned in Taehyung's chest, he knew that what she needed now wasn't revenge.

It was this.

Him. Her.

A quiet moment where she wasn't a name, a role, a pawn in someone else's game.

Just Jungkook.

Slowly, Taehyung exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders. His hands finally came to rest on her waist, grounding himself in her warmth. "Fine," he murmured. "I won't do anything."

Jungkook pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes suspicious. "Promise?"

Taehyung's lips curled. "I never said that."

Jungkook groaned, smacking his chest lightly, but she didn't move away.
And Taehyung, despite everything, found himself smiling.

Jungkook glanced at him, a small, wistful smile on her lips. "It was the first time I felt like I had a choice. Like—like I could actually say no." Her fingers curled slightly. "But it didn't last. Not for long."

Taehyung could already tell where this was going but he didn't interrupt. Jungkook inhaled deeply, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as she forced herself to remember.

"She told me I was an embarrassment," Jungkook continued, her voice hollow. "That I had ruined an important business deal. That I was nothing but a courtesan's daughter and should know better than to act like I had dignity."

Taehyung's breath hitched at the way her voice wavered on that last word.

Jungkook let out a small, bitter laugh. "And then she gave me a choice." She turned to Taehyung, eyes searching his face. "Dance for the man I rejected. Or—ask you for money."

Taehyung's fists curled, knuckles whitening.

Jungkook's smile was thin, distant. "And if I refused both, there was only one other option left—marry Sangwoon."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I remember standing there, feeling like the entire world had closed in around me. Like no matter which road I took, I was always going to end up in a cage." Her fingers curled into her dress.

"Mother didn't even see it as a punishment—she called it an opportunity."

Taehyung's chest tightened. He knew Kara had been controlling. He knew she had shaped Jungkook's entire life like a chessboard, moving her around to fit her needs.

But hearing it—really hearing it—was different.

Jungkook let out a quiet breath. "And the worst part?" She gave a small, humorless chuckle. "For a moment, I actually considered it. Asking you."

Taehyung's heart twisted.

"Not because I wanted to," she whispered. "But because out of all three choices, you felt like the safest option." Her lips curled slightly.

"You, who didn't even knew me back then."

Taehyung shut his eyes, swallowing down the bitterness rising in his throat.

"But I didn't ask," Jungkook said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Because I knew if I did, you would've seen me the same way Mother does."

She turned to him then, something fragile in her gaze.

"Just another thing to be bought."

Taehyung's chest tightened at her words. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his throat dry. Jungkook wasn't looking at him anymore. She was staring at her lap, fingers absentmindedly smoothing out the fabric of her dress. "So, I chose the last option."

Taehyung felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

"I agreed to marry Sangwoon."

Jungkook let out a breath. "It wasn't even about love. Or liking him. Or wanting that life. It was just... the least humiliating option." She gave a hollow chuckle, shaking her head. "I told myself that at least this way, I was making a decision. At least this way, I wouldn't have to beg."

Taehyung remembered.

He remembered walking into that room, the dim candlelight flickering against the mirrors. He remembered seeing her standing there in front of the vanity, dressed in silk and jewelry—not because she wanted to be but because she had been made to be.

Her reflection had met his eyes through the mirror.

Even now, he could recall the exact moment her fingers had curled slightly around the edge of the table. The way her lips had parted in shock, the way her shoulders had stiffened.

Even now, Taehyung could hear the disbelief in her voice.

"She fixed my marriage with Sangwoon. It wasn't about me anymore. It was about power, about status. He was wealthy, he wanted me, and she saw an opportunity." Jungkook let out a quiet sigh, as if recalling it drained her. "I held on for as long as I could. I kept pushing back, but in the end, I gave in."

She laughed, but it was hollow, empty.

"I convinced myself it was fate. That maybe Mother was right. That no matter what I did, I'd always end up back where I started—being chosen rather than choosing."

Taehyung's fingers twitched. His entire body tensed as her words settled in.

How much she had fought. How much she had lost before she ever had the chance to win.

Jungkook glanced up at him then, and her gaze was unreadable.

"But then..." she whispered, her voice barely above a breath, "you happened."

Taehyung's heart stopped. Jungkook gave him a small, knowing smile, as if sensing the storm of emotions in his chest.

"You changed everything, Mr. Kim."

Taehyung felt something in his chest tighten at her words.

Jungkook let out a small breath, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "Our start was... messy," she admitted, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the countertop. "Fluctuating. Uncertain." She smiled a little.

"I didn't know what to expect from you. One moment, you were this cold, unreadable man standing in my room with a marriage proposal I never saw coming." She exhaled softly. "The next, you were the only thing keeping me from falling apart."

Taehyung remained silent, watching her, listening.

Jungkook chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "I thought I knew what my life was going to be. That night, when I was getting ready for Sangwoon, I thought—this is it. This is how my story ends." Her eyes softened. "And suddenly, my story wasn't over yet."

Taehyung felt his throat tighten.

Jungkook continued, her voice quiet but steady. "You gave me something I never had before. A choice." She smiled, but it was tinged with something fragile. "You didn't come to save me that night. I know that now." Her gaze held his.

"You came there as a broken son who needed an alara to save your dying mother,"

Taehyung sucked in a breath, his jaw tightening.

Jungkook's words settled over him, unshakable in their quiet truth.

"You didn't steal me away because you loved me," she continued, her voice softer now, not accusing, just knowing. "You didn't even steal me away for me."

Taehyung exhaled sharply, his head bowing slightly.

"You took me because you needed me," Jungkook said, her fingers curling against the fabric of her dress. "Not as your wife. Not as a person. But as an alara."

Taehyung's throat bobbed. He didn't try to deny it.

Jungkook's lips pressed together, and for a moment, she seemed to hesitate. Then, she let out a small breath, tilting her head.

"Do you regret it?"

Taehyung's head snapped up. His eyes burned as he looked at her, something twisting deep in his chest.

"Do you regret taking me?" she asked again, quieter this time. "Do you regret that night?"

Taehyung swallowed, his hands clenching at his sides.

"Yes."

Jungkook stiffened.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath. "I regret taking you like that." His voice was low, raw. "I regret that I stole your choice before I ever gave you one. That I forced you into a world you didn't ask for." His jaw clenched, his next words nearly a whisper.

"I regret hurting you."

Jungkook's breath caught.

Taehyung let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. "But do I regret you?" He looked at her then, eyes burning, voice steady.

"No."

Jungkook swallowed, her heart hammering.

"Not for a single second,"

Taehyung exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. His voice was rough, laced with frustration—not at her, but at himself.

"I didn't have time, Jungkook."

Jungkook frowned slightly, watching him as he leaned back against the counter, his fingers tightening at his sides.

"I wanted to tell you," Taehyung admitted, his gaze dark, filled with something unreadable. "I wanted to sit you down, explain everything properly. The magic, the bloodlines, the mess my family had created, and why you—" He stopped, exhaling sharply. "Why you were at the center of it."

Jungkook's breath hitched, but she stayed quiet.

"But I didn't have time," Taehyung repeated, his voice heavy. "The clock was running out. You had lived your whole life as a normal human—suddenly telling you that you weren't, that the world you knew was only a fraction of the truth..." He trailed off, jaw clenching.

"I couldn't risk you not believing me."

Jungkook swallowed.

Taehyung's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "It was the only way I knew how." His fingers tapped against the counter, restless. "I couldn't give you time to question it. Couldn't let you hesitate. So I did what I've always done—" His gaze flickered to hers, something raw beneath the surface.

"I took what I needed."

Jungkook inhaled sharply, her eyes searching his.

Taehyung let out a quiet scoff. "And look where that got me."

Jungkook tilted her head, studying him. "And where do you think it got you?"

Taehyung's gaze softened, lips parting as he took her in—the wife who had every reason to hate him, yet sat here, listening.

His throat bobbed.

"It got me you."

Jungkook kept her gaze on him, searching his face for something—anything—but Taehyung wasn't hiding this time.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together before speaking, his voice heavy with something raw.

"I admit it," he murmured. "I was a jerk. An idiot. I took you from one prison and threw you into another. I didn't explain things, didn't give you the time or space to breathe."

Jungkook stayed silent, letting him speak.

"I kept you in the dark," Taehyung continued, his fingers tightening into fists. "I let you struggle, let you wonder what the hell was happening to you, when I should have been the one guiding you." His jaw clenched, his head bowing slightly. "And then my mother—"

His breath hitched.

"The things she said. The way she treated you." His voice dropped lower, tighter. "I should have stopped her."

Jungkook's fingers curled at her sides.

Taehyung scoffed at himself, shaking his head. "But I didn't. I stood there and let it happen. I let you think that you were just... some pawn in my game."

He let out a bitter chuckle, his expression dark with self-loathing. "I don't blame you for hating me then, Jungkook. I'd hate me too."

"Hate," Jungkook began, her voice steady but quiet, "is a very vast word. I didn't hate you." 

Taehyung stilled, his bitter chuckle fading into silence. His grip on her waist loosened slightly, as if bracing himself for whatever came next. 

Jungkook exhaled softly. "I resented you. I feared you. I was angry at you. But I never hated you, Taehyung." She met his gaze, her fingers curling against his chest. "Because hating you would have been easier." 

Taehyung's eyes darkened, his breath catching in his throat. "Easier?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, a faint sadness threading through her words. "Hating someone puts a wall between you and them. It makes things clear. It's simple."

She swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. "But what I felt... it was messy. Confusing. Because no matter how much I resented you, how much I feared what you represented—the control, the power, the family you come from—I couldn't just close the door."

Her fingers pressed a little firmer against his chest. "There were moments... moments where I saw the man behind the armor. Where your anger cracked, and there was something real, vulnerable."

Taehyung's throat tightened, and his hands found her waist again, steady but tentative.

"I wanted to hate you for taking my choice," she continued, voice trembling slightly. "But somewhere beneath all that anger, I wanted to understand you. To be seen."

He searched her eyes, raw emotion pooling in his own.

"Jungkook..." 

The wife shook her head. "If I hated you, I wouldn't have been so confused every time you were kind to me. If I hated you, I wouldn't have questioned why the man who took everything from me was the same man who protected me from the world." Her voice wavered. "If I hated you, I wouldn't have wanted you to look at me the way you did." 

Taehyung's fingers twitched against her waist. "I—" 

"I wanted to hate you," Jungkook whispered, cutting him off. "I tried to despise you. But even at my worst, even when I was drowning in anger and resentment, there was always this part of me that—" she exhaled sharply, "—that couldn't." 

Taehyung's throat bobbed. Jungkook searched his face, the man who had once been a storm in her life now standing before her like a man drowning in his own regrets. 

She lifted a hand, fingers brushing against his cheek in the lightest touch. "You were harsh," she murmured. "You were reckless. And you were selfish." 

Taehyung shut his eyes. 

"But you were also the only person who ever saw me." 

His eyes snapped open and held hers, unblinking, as if trying to memorize every detail—the way her eyes shimmered with unshed emotions, the slight tremble in her lips, the raw honesty that bled through her words.

"Saw you how?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken regrets.

Jungkook's breath hitched. She moved her hand slowly, letting her fingers trail down from his cheek to rest gently on his collarbone. "Not the one my mother wanted me to be. Not the pawn in your family's game. Not just 'an alara' to be used and discarded. But me, Taehyung, the part no one else bothered to see. The part that's afraid, the part that fights, the part that still dreams."

Her eyes searched his, seeking something—validation, forgiveness, or maybe just a flicker of understanding. "You saw those parts, even when I couldn't see them myself. You didn't just take me. You made me visible."

Taehyung's breath hitched, a strange mixture of pain and something almost like gratitude settling deep in his chest. For so long, he had been the man who took what he thought was necessary—harsh, ruthless, unyielding. But hearing her say that he had given her the gift of being seen cut through the walls he had built around himself.

His fingers closed around hers. He pulled her hand close to his heart, as if trying to anchor himself to the truth in her words.

Jungkook leaned forward, her forehead resting softly against his. Their breaths mingled in the quiet space, a fragile tether tying their fractured hearts together. "I wanted to despise you," she admitted, voice barely audible, "but I never could. Because even when you were harsh and reckless, even when you hurt me, you never stopped seeing me."

Taehyung's eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness in her words. When he opened them again, there was a new softness, a tentative hope.

Jungkook smiled faintly, almost as if she were remembering something distant, something precious. "Well... I always loved your tiny gestures," she admitted, her voice soft. "How you saved me from your mother's words. How, even when you were cold and distant, you never let her break me." 

Taehyung's breath hitched. 

"You think I didn't notice?" Jungkook murmured, tilting her head. "The way you would always step in right before she went too far? The way you would change the subject or call me out of the room, just so I wouldn't have to hear her cruelty?" 

Taehyung swallowed thickly, his fingers tightening around her waist. 

Jungkook's gaze softened. "Even then, even when I thought I resented you the most, you were still the only person standing between me and the rest of the world." 

Taehyung exhaled shakily, his voice raw. "I didn't do enough." 

Jungkook shook her head slowly, a gentle but firm refusal. "No, you did more than you think," she whispered, her fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along the curve of his side. "You were the reason I didn't fall completely apart."

Her eyes glistened, reflecting pain and gratitude. "Maybe you weren't perfect. Maybe you were reckless and stubborn, but you fought for me, even if it wasn't always in the way I wanted or understood."

Taehyung swallowed hard, his chest tightening as her words settled deep inside him like a healing balm, his fingers curling against the edge of the counter. "You make it sound like I did something grand," he murmured. "Like I was some kind of hero."

Jungkook's smile widened slightly, playful now. "No, Mr. Kim." She tilted her head. "You were just you."

Taehyung blinked.

"And somehow," she whispered, "that was enough."

For the first time in a long while, Taehyung found himself at a loss for words.

Jungkook giggled, reaching out to poke his cheek. "What? No smooth Mr. Kim remark? No 'Mrs. Kim' teasing?"

Taehyung swallowed, his voice coming out quieter than he intended. "Not this time."

Jungkook hummed, swinging her legs slightly where she sat. And just like that, the moment settled into something quieter—something warm.

A silence filled with understanding settled between them. Then—

Taehyung pushed off the counter, stepping closer. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers tilting her chin up gently so she'd look at him. Jungkook blinked, startled by the warmth in his eyes—serious, unwavering.

"You're not just anyone, Jungkook." His voice was low, steady, certain. "You're the daughter of Jeons, my wife. And above that you are you. Owner of your own choices, actions, desire."

Jungkook swallowed, her breath hitching slightly at the sheer weight behind his words.

"You can do whatever you want," Taehyung continued, his thumb brushing lightly against her jaw. "And if anyone dares to doubt you, they'll have to deal with me."

His thumb lingered against her skin for a second longer before he let his hand drop, exhaling. "If opening a restaurant is what you want, then do it. I'll support you."

Jungkook swallowed thickly, attempting to mask the emotions rising in her throat with a teasing grin. "You sound a little obsessed, Mr. Kim."

Taehyung let out a soft chuckle, his hand staying against her cheek.

"Of course, I am," he murmured. "I'm completely obsessed with you."

Jungkook's breath stuttered. Before she could recover, Taehyung leaned in, his lips pressing gently against her forehead—a silent promise. Jungkook closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the warmth of him. And for the first time in a long while—

Her dream didn't feel so far away.

"I always want a treehouse."

Taehyung blinked. "A treehouse?"

Jungkook nodded. "A big one. With fairy lights. And a little ladder. And a tiny window where we can watch the stars." Her voice became softer, a hint of nostalgia creeping in. "I always wanted one as a kid, but... there was never anyone to build it for me."

Taehyung felt a familiar ache in his chest. He cupped her cheek, tilting her face up so she'd meet his eyes.

"I'll build it for you," he said simply.

Jungkook's lips parted slightly, eyes shimmering. "You will?" she whispered.

Taehyung nodded. "I'll build you the best treehouse you've ever seen. And if we don't have a tree—" he smirked, "—I'll buy a whole forest."

Jungkook giggled, her heart fluttering. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face against his chest. "I really got lucky with you, huh?"

Taehyung chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her hair.

"No." He hugged her tighter, his voice warm and sincere. "I'm the lucky one."

Jungkook tilted her head, blinking up at Taehyung with expectant eyes. "Okay, Mr. Kim. Your turn."

Taehyung, who had been idly tracing patterns on her wrist, looked down at her, confused. "My turn for what?"

Jungkook huffed. "Your wishes, of course!" She scooted closer, hands resting on his broad chest as she poked him lightly. "What do you want?"

Taehyung thought for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the oven where their cake was still baking. "I want... my family to be happy," he said, voice steady, matter-of-factly. "I want you to be happy. I want to keep you safe, give you a good life, and—"

Jungkook groaned, throwing her head back dramatically before gripping his shoulders and shaking him. "Not that kind of wish, Tae!"

Taehyung stumbled slightly, startled. "What do you mean?"

Jungkook pouted, eyes big and stubborn. "Those are responsibilities, not wishes! I want to know your wishes—stupid ones, impossible ones, ones that make no sense!"

Taehyung stilled.

His? His wishes?

He opened his mouth, then closed it. A wish. Something just for him. Something selfish.

Jungkook frowned at his silence. "You do have wishes, right?" she asked, voice suddenly smaller.

Taehyung's lips parted, but no words came. Did he?

His whole life, everything he ever wanted was for someone else. His mother. His brother. His sister. His family. And now, for Jungkook. He worked, he fought, he built, but... for himself?

There was nothing.

Jungkook softened, her hands sliding down his arms. "Tae," she murmured, searching his face. "You've never thought about it, have you?"

He shook his head slowly. Jungkook's heart ached. She grabbed his hands and held them firmly, staring up at him with all the sincerity in the world. Taehyung stared at her. His throat tightened as he stared at their joined hands. He felt Jungkook's fingers, soft and delicate against his own.

It grounded him.

"I don't think... I ever had my own wish," he admitted, his voice low, almost hesitant. Taehyung took a slow breath, forcing himself to keep going.

"When I was younger," he began, his gaze flickering to the oven, the dim glow of the inside light reflecting in his eyes, "I used to think wishes were... selfish. My father always said a man should have duties, not dreams. That a men's life belonged to his family, his people. So I never thought about what I wanted."

Jungkook's heart clenched.

"I wanted to be strong for Yeonjun and Jimin. I wanted to be reliable for my mother. I wanted to take responsibility for the family." His fingers tightened around hers slightly. "And now, I want to protect you. Keep you safe. Make sure you never have to feel like you don't belong."

"But those aren't wishes, right?" His lips curled into something small, almost like a self-deprecating smile. "Those are just... duties."

Jungkook gently lifted his hand, pressing it against her cheek.

"Then, Mr. Kim," she murmured, voice gentle, "let's find your wishes together. What if... you had the freedom to want something? Not for me, not for our family, but just for you?"

Taehyung paused. What if?

He had never thought about that before. Never once allowed himself to consider a world where his desires could exist outside of responsibility.

Jungkook tilted her head, waiting patiently.

"Then..." He swallowed, something strange and new unraveling inside him. "I think... I'd like to travel. See places beyond our home. Maybe—maybe I'd like to learn to paint again. I used to, when I was younger."

Jungkook's eyes widened slightly.

"You painted?" she whispered, almost as if she had discovered a secret treasure.

Taehyung nodded. "I used to sketch at night, before my father found out and threw my books away."

Jungkook's grip on his hand tightened.

Taehyung looked down at her, a ghost of something unreadable in his expression. "I stopped after that."

Silence stretched between them.

Jungkook huffed, shaking her head. "Your father was a very weird species."

Taehyung chuckled, the sound low and amused. "Feelings are mutual."

Jungkook turned to him fully, her brows furrowed. "So... you never tried again? Not even once?"

Taehyung tilted his head, his gaze distant, lost in old memories. "I did, a few times. But it never felt the same." He exhaled softly. "There was always this... voice in my head. His voice. Telling me it was useless. That I was wasting time."

"That's stupid," Jungkook muttered. "You're Taehyung Kim. You don't waste time. You create. You build things. You lead."

Taehyung blinked, momentarily taken aback by the conviction in her voice.

Jungkook huffed, poking his chest. "If you ever want to draw again, just do it. No one's stopping you now."

Taehyung let out a small laugh, shaking his head. "And what would I even sketch?"

Jungkook tilted her chin, grinning. "Me, obviously."

Taehyung scoffed, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "You'd get tired of posing."

"Never," Jungkook declared dramatically. "You can sketch me in my best angles."

"And what exactly are those?" Taehyung teased, raising a brow.

Jungkook smirked, flipping her hair. "All of them."

Taehyung chuckled, shaking his head.

"I bet you'd draw boring landscapes instead of the best muse you have—me."

Taehyung didn't reply immediately. Instead, he simply looked at her, his expression unreadable. Then, in a soft voice, he murmured, "Maybe I already do."

Jungkook blinked. "What?"

But Taehyung only smirked, tugging her toward the counter. "Come on, let's check the cake before you get a bigger ego."

Jungkook pouted but followed, though the warmth in her chest lingered long after.

The oven let out a soft ding, signaling the cake was finally done. Jungkook gasped excitedly, bouncing on her heels.

"It's ready! It's ready!"

Before she could reach for the oven handle, Taehyung stepped in front of her, blocking her path with a single, firm hand on her forehead.

"Step back, Mrs. Kim," he ordered smoothly, his deep voice carrying that no-nonsense tone.

Jungkook scrunched her nose, swatting at his hand. "Mr Kim, move! I can do it!"

Taehyung didn't budge. Instead, he gave her a pointed look before nodding toward the oven. "Do you even have mitts on?"

Jungkook faltered, glancing down at her empty hands. "Uh..."

Taehyung sighed dramatically. "Exactly."

Jungkook pouted, crossing her arms. "I was just about to grab them."

"Too slow," Taehyung hummed, already slipping on the thick oven mitts.

Jungkook groaned as she watched him open the oven door, a rush of warm, sweet-smelling air filling the kitchen. Taehyung reached inside and carefully lifted the tray.

Jungkook, meanwhile, leaned dangerously close, trying to peek. "Did it rise properly? Is it fluffy? Did we mess it up?"

Taehyung tsked, shifting slightly to block her view. "Mrs. Kim, have some patience."

"But it's our cake," Jungkook whined, bouncing behind him. "I wanna see!"

Taehyung finally placed the tray onto the counter with a quiet thud before straightening up. "Alright, alright, feast your eyes."

Jungkook gasped as she leaned in, hands clasped together. "Oh my God—it's actually perfect!"

The cake was golden brown, soft and fluffy with a slight dome on top, exactly how they had imagined it. To confirm, Taehyung inserted a tooth pick and both of their eyes sparkled as they found the cake was cooked perfectly. A small sense of accomplishment bloomed in Jungkook's chest.

"We did that."

Taehyung leaned against the counter, smirking at her enthusiasm. "You sound surprised."

"Well," Jungkook teased, poking his chest, "considering the absolute war zone we turned this kitchen into, I wasn't sure we'd actually pull it off."

Taehyung scoffed. "You were the one who spilled half the flour on the counter."

"Because you bumped into me!"

"You were distracted."

"Because you were being distracting!"

Taehyung's lips twitched. "Ah, so it's my fault now?"

"Always," Jungkook declared with a firm nod. Taehyung shook his head, chuckling.

Jungkook took full control of decorating their cake, her small hands working with careful precision. Taehyung simply stood back, watching as she smoothed the whipped cream along the edges, her brows furrowed in deep concentration.

"You look serious," Taehyung murmured, resting his chin on his palm as he leaned against the counter.

Jungkook shushed him immediately. "Mr. Kim, this is an art."

Taehyung smirked. "Oh? I thought it was just a cake."

She shot him a glare before returning to her work. "You don't rush art."

Taehyung held up his hands in surrender, watching as she spread the whipped cream evenly, making sure the edges were perfectly smooth. Once satisfied, she filled the center with ripe, juicy strawberries.

Taehyung watched, amused. "Are you decorating a cake or assembling a royal crown?"

"Both," Jungkook quipped.

He chuckled under his breath, enjoying this side of her—the focus, the small tilt of her head when she analyzed her work, the way her lips pursed in thought before she made the final touches.

Then, to his surprise, Jungkook reached for four small red ribbons, tying them carefully. Taehyung tilted his head. "Ribbons?"

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically. "For presentation, obviously!"

Taehyung hummed, amused. "Didn't know we were entering a baking competition."

Jungkook ignored him, completely absorbed in her task. With the ribbons secured, she picked up tiny bits of strawberries—cut into tiny, adorable shapes—and placed them evenly across the surface. She carefully stuck a minuscule green leaf on each one, making them resemble tiny cherries.

"There!" she finally declared, stepping back with a proud smile. "Isn't it perfect?"

Taehyung looked at the cake—then at his glowing wife.

"Yeah," he murmured, watching the happiness radiating from her. "It is."

Jungkook grinned, wiping her hands on a cloth before clapping them together. "We did a great job, Mr. Kim!"

Taehyung chuckled. "More like you did. I just stood here looking handsome."

"That is true," Jungkook teased, poking his cheek. "At least you're good at something."

Taehyung scoffed playfully before pulling her into his arms suddenly, making her squeak. "I am good at something," he murmured, his lips brushing against her temple.

Jungkook pouted, arms looping around his neck. "And what's that?"

Taehyung smirked. "Loving my wife."

Jungkook's cheeks turned pink, but she huffed, hiding her flustered expression against his chest. "Cheesy."

Taehyung picked up the knife, ready to slice into the beautifully decorated cake, but the moment the blade hovered over the surface, Jungkook let out a loud squeak.

"No!" Jungkook gasped, grabbing his wrist before he could commit what she clearly saw as a crime.

Taehyung blinked. "What?"

Jungkook dramatically pulled the knife away from his grasp, her eyes wide with horror. "We can't just eat it like this! This is art! You don't ruin art with a knife, Mr. Kim!"

Taehyung sighed, rubbing his temple. "So... what do you want to do? Frame it?"

Jungkook scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous." Then, with an excited grin, she clapped her hands together. "We should have a fancy tea party!"

Taehyung's brow arched. "A what?"

"A tea party!" Jungkook repeated. "By the riverside! With proper settings, delicate plates and maybe some fresh tea. Oh! And cushions—because we need comfort!"

Taehyung crossed his arms, eyeing her with mild amusement. "You're telling me that instead of eating this cake right here, you want to pack it all up and take it outside—just so we can sit beside a river like some 19th-century aristocrats?"

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Exactly!"

Taehyung exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You are unbelievable."

Jungkook grinned, unbothered. "And yet, you love me."

Taehyung couldn't even argue with that.

With an exaggerated sigh, he rolled up his sleeves. "Fine, Mrs. Kim," he drawled. "Let's get your high-class tea party ready."

Jungkook gasped, throwing her arms around his neck. "You're the best husband, Mr. Kim!"

Taehyung huffed, patting her back. "Yeah, yeah. Now go find those fancy plates of yours before I change my mind."

With a squeal, Jungkook pecked his cheek and bolted toward the dining cabinet, already babbling about doilies, teacups, and whether violets or daisies were better centerpieces.

Taehyung watched her go, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite himself.

A riverside tea party with porcelain plates and cake too pretty to eat?

Only Mrs. Kim could dream up something like that.

And only Mr. Kim would carry it out—because beneath all his grumbling, he'd follow her into every ridiculous fantasy.

Even if it meant drinking lukewarm tea beside ducks.

__________________________