𑣲.Husband's Breaking Point— ᨳଓ .Jungkook

Marriage was supposed to bring grace, poise, and solemn adult maturity—or at least, that’s what normal couples aimed for. But when you’ve known your husband since you were both wiping dirt off your knees and stealing juice boxes, "maturity" is a total myth. Now turning twenty-nine and thirty, you and Jungkook are fully grown adults with serious responsibilities and a joint mortgage. Yet, despite being legally married adults, neither of you can take the other seriously for more than five minutes. Years of shared history mean every secret, every embarrassing phase, and every silly mistake is fair game for relentless teasing, especially in front of friends. Case in point: your living room on a warm evening. Jungkook was sitting on the sofa, attempting to project the picture-perfect image of a refined father. He adjusted his posture, looking down at your three-year-old son, Dohyun, who was currently sprawled sideways across the rug. "Dohyun-ah, sit up properly," Jungkook instructed, leaning back with a handsome, stern expression. "Sit like a gentleman." You paused mid-step while folding laundry, raising an eyebrow at your husband. "A gentleman? That's rich coming from you. I think you forgot your own childhood, Jungkook. Remember when you used to sit straddling the neighborhood brick wall, eating melted popsicles with your shirt inside out? Did that look like a gentleman to you?" Jungkook’s sharp jawline dropped slightly, his dark eyes flashing as he pointed a defensive finger at you. "That was strategic outdoor observation! And I was seven!" Before you could fire back, your four-year-old daughter, Chaewon, wandered out of her bedroom, clutching a stuffed bear. Her hair was a wild, tangled halo from her afternoon nap. "Chaewon, sweetie, come here," you said, reaching for a hairbrush. "Focus on your hair, it’s completely messy." Jungkook immediately let out a loud, dramatic scoff, folding his arms across his chest with a smirk. "Oh, now that's hilarious. Look who’s talking about messy hair! Chaewon-ah, don't listen to your mom. I think she forgot the phase where her hair literally looked like a crow’s nest every morning before school." "It was a trendy shag cut!" you snapped, though a laugh threatened to break through your annoyance. "It was a bird sanctuary, and you know it," he teased, stepping closer to you. Despite all the bickering and constant teasing, the moment his hand naturally slid around your waist to pull you close, the playful friction melted into pure warmth. You both might act like childish rivals, but under the dramatic teasing lay a lifetime of love—and neither of you would trade this chaotic, domestic life for anything. Yet, as sweet as the domestic warmth was, Jungkook had been running on absolute fumes for the past two weeks. Ever since the kids had entered the picture, private time was already a luxury. But lately, you had turned his desperation into an art form. Every time he dropped hints, pulled you close after the kids were asleep, or tried to initiate anything intimate, you played completely oblivious. You’d make up absurdly weak excuses—claiming you suddenly needed to fold the kitchen towels, organize the pantry, or that you were "far too exhausted" from dealing with three kids, counting him. He knew you were doing it on purpose. The sly smirk on your lips every time you turned him down gave you away instantly. Then came the family visit. As if two weeks of forced celibacy wasn't torture enough, Jungkook's parents arrived for an all-day visit. The house was loud, chaotic, and completely packed. Dohyun was glued to his grandfather's side, Chaewon was showing off her drawings to her grandmother, and Jungkook was stuck sitting on the couch, pretending to be a composed, dutiful son while his body practically thrummed with frustrated energy. You, however, decided that having an audience was the perfect opportunity to dial up the teasing to an unbearable level. It started in the narrow hallway near the kitchen. As Jungkook stepped out to fetch more tea for his mother, you intentionally walked past him. Instead of squeezing by normally, you slowly rubbed your hips against his soft crotch—the intimate contact making him harden instantly right beneath your touch as you lingered just long enough for him to feel your body's heat. Jungkook froze mid-step, his jaw tightening as he sucked in a sharp, quiet breath. When he glared down at you, his dark eyes burning with a heavy intensity, you merely offered him a picture-perfect, innocent smile. "Oops, sorry sweetheart. It's so cramped in here," you murmured softly, your voice far too sweet to be genuine. You strolled right past him into the living room, taking a seat right beside his parents as if nothing had happened. You casually joined in on the conversation, smiling warmly as you poured fresh tea for his father. As you leaned forward over the coffee table to hand his father the cup, you "accidentally" knocked a small tea spoon off the tray. It clattered down onto the coffee table's lower glass shelf, landing right in Jungkook's direct line of sight. "Oh, silly me," you cooed softly. Instead of squatting, you deliberately bent at the waist, leaning low over the table to pick up the spoon. You were wearing a loose-fitting Sunday dress, and from Jungkook's angle across the room, the low neckline draped open completely. He was given an unobstructed, breathtaking view of your full breasts, the soft curve straining against the fabric of your lace bra. You lingered at the bottom for a second longer than necessary, letting him take in every detail before slowly straightening back up and placing the spoon aside. Standing frozen, Jungkook stared at you from across the room, watching you play so innocent in front of his parents. His pulse raced, a muscle flexing hard in his jaw as he felt the heavy ache in his groin. She really thinks she can get away with this, he thought, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a dangerous intensity. He couldn't do anything with his parents sitting right there, but as he watched you laugh sweetly at something his father said, a dark smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Just wait until eight o'clock.