FALLING FOR YOU | KM [✓]°

6. After Marriage

time passes like seconds for both of them.

two months have slipped by since their wedding day, and the life they have built together feels strangely effortless, beautifully domestic, and quietly perfect.

jungkook wakes up every morning with jimin curled against his chest, soft breaths brushing his collarbone, small hands clutching his shirt in sleep. he finds himself lingering longer than necessary just to watch the gentle rise and fall of jimin’s breathing, to trace the faint freckles scattered across his nose with his eyes. he tells himself it’s only because jimin is his husband—nothing more. curiosity, maybe. obligation. nothing dangerous.

but deep down he knows it’s a lie he keeps repeating to himself.

he wants to know everything about jimin now.

what makes him laugh until tears gather in his crescent eyes. what songs make him hum absentmindedly while folding laundry. which side of the bed he prefers when he’s cold. how he likes his coffee—black with two sugars in the morning, milky and sweet in the afternoon. jungkook notices it all. memorizes it all. shrugs off the warm flutter in his chest every time jimin smiles at him like he hung the moon.

and the sex—god, the sex.

jungkook can’t keep his hands off him.

it’s magnetic. primal. every time jimin walks past wearing one of jungkook’s oversized shirts, bare thighs peeking out, or when he stretches in the kitchen and the shirt rides up just enough to show the dip of his waist—jungkook is gone. hard in seconds. pulling jimin into his lap, kissing him until they’re both breathless, fucking him slow and deep on the couch, against the kitchen counter, in the shower, on the bedroom floor because they couldn’t even make it to the bed.

jimin has fallen completely.

he fell the moment his parents showed him jungkook’s photo three months ago—tall, sharp jaw, dark eyes, quiet intensity radiating even through a still image. his heart had stuttered then. when they told him the marriage was fixed, happiness had bloomed so bright it almost hurt.

living with jungkook only made it worse—or better, depending on how he looked at it.

jungkook is caring in ways he probably doesn’t even realize. the way he tucks the blanket around jimin when he falls asleep on the couch. the way he brushes jimin’s hair out of his eyes when they’re watching tv. the way he always walks on the street side when they go out, arm around jimin’s waist like a shield. the way no other man gets within three feet of jimin without jungkook’s jaw tightening, his hand sliding possessively lower on jimin’s back.

possessive. protective. gentle in private moments.

jimin sees it all.

their days fall into the sweetest routine.

jungkook leaves for the office in the morning, kissing jimin goodbye at the door—sometimes quick, sometimes slow and lingering until jimin is flushed and giggling. jimin stays home, tidying their apartment, cooking, studying when he has assignments, waiting like the perfect little housewife he has become without even trying.

he loves it.

loves waiting for jungkook to come home.