It was supposed to be a business arrangement — nothing more.

Jeon Jungkook needed an heir.

After two miscarriages, Jeon Jungkook’s marriage was stretched thin—held together only by quiet grief and unspoken disappointment. His wife, Jeon Lisa, once radiant with hope, now carried a permanent shadow in her eyes. Doctors offered answers, but none that healed: her body simply couldn't carry life.

Jungkook suggested adoption.

Lisa refused. “I want our child to carry your blood,” she whispered, eyes glassy with tears. “Even if I’m not the one to give birth.”

Reluctantly, Jungkook agreed to surrogacy.

They went through agencies. Dozens of profiles. None felt right—until Lisa remembered a delicate young man she'd met at the hospital. He was there every day, caring for his dying mother with quiet devotion. His name was Kim Taehyung.

When she reached out, Taehyung hesitated. He was young, barely in his early twenties. Fragile. Soft-spoken. Clearly uncomfortable with the idea. But his circumstances were dire. His mother’s treatments were draining what little money he had, and the offer on the table was too good to ignore.

“I just have to… carry the baby?” he asked, voice trembling. “No strings? No responsibility?”

Lisa nodded.

And so, he said yes.

The first time Jungkook saw him was in their living room.

Kim Taehyung entered slowly, head down, hands nervously wringing the fabric of his oversized sweater. His skin was pale, almost porcelain-like, and his eyes—downturned and shimmering with something between fear and submission—briefly met Jungkook’s.

That was all it took.

One glance. One breath. One moment.

And Jungkook felt something break inside him.

He was beautiful. Fragile. Breakable. Submissive His.

Jungkook didn’t hear what Lisa was saying. He didn’t care about the paperwork or the medical steps to come. His gaze was fixed entirely on Taehyung—how his collarbone peeked out from his loose neckline, how he flinched ever so slightly when spoken to, how he bowed low when Jungkook finally stood to greet him.

“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Taehyung murmured.

Jungkook didn’t speak. He simply took Taehyung’s hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently—never once looking away from his eyes.

Lisa smiled, thinking it was simple courtesy.

It wasn’t.

From that moment on, Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The soft sound of his voice. The curve of his neck. The way he obeyed every instruction without question.

He was everything Jungkook had never realized he wanted—obedient, pure, submissive and untouched.

And now, he would carry Jungkook’s child.

It should have ended there—a contract fulfilled. But something darker had already begun to bloom.

Obsession.

Possession.

A hunger Jungkook couldn’t name and define

Taehyung was supposed to be a surrogate. Nothing more.

But

But

But to Jungkook, he was already something else entirely:

His.

Jeon Jungkook x Kim Taehyung

Top!Jungkook | Bottom!Taehyung | MPREG | Dark BL Romance

The air in the penthouse was silent. Not peaceful—just heavy, like grief soaked into the walls and refused to leave.

Jeon Jungkook stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the city skyline. Seoul glittered beneath him—his empire. He ruled it with an iron will, commanding one of the most powerful conglomerates in South Korea. Business bowed at his feet. Politicians listened when he spoke. Money, power, influence—he had it all.

Except a child.

An heir.

Someone to carry his name when he was gone.

Behind him, the sound of soft footsteps echoed off marble floors. Jeon Lisa entered the living room, her silk robe trailing behind her like smoke. Once Korea’s most sought-after runway model, her face had graced global billboards and magazines. Now, her skin looked pale. Her eyes—once bold—were sunken and hollow.

She sat on the couch without a word.

Jungkook didn’t turn around.

Another silence.

Then finally, Lisa spoke, voice hoarse. “It’s been three weeks.”

“I know,” he replied quietly.

“I still… feel it. Like something’s missing.” She placed her hand on her stomach. “Is that insane?”

Jungkook closed his eyes. His jaw clenched. “No.”

She looked at his reflection in the glass. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry at you.”

“But you are angry.”

He turned then, slowly, his face unreadable. “I’m angry because we keep losing something that hasn’t even had the chance to live.”

Lisa blinked, then gave a bitter smile. “You’re thinking about an heir again.”

“Don’t make it sound like greed.”

“I’m not.” Her tone softened. “I know you want a child. So do I. But it’s not happening, Jungkook. My body… it won’t let me.”

“I don’t want to watch you break again.” His voice dropped. “I hate seeing you like this.”

Her hands trembled slightly as she pushed her hair back. “I’ve been thinking of returning to the spotlight. Acting. Film. Something to distract me.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always hated acting.”

“I used to hate miscarriages too,” she snapped, then instantly looked away. “I’m sorry. That was cruel.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he crossed the room and sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, what do we do now? Keep hoping? Keep hurting?”

“I don’t want to adopt,” she said after a pause. “I want our child. Yours. Even if I’m not the one to carry it.”

His head slowly turned toward her. “You mean… surrogacy.”

Lisa nodded, her fingers clenching the edge of her robe. “It’s not ideal, I know. But at least a part of you will live on. And… I can live with that.”

Jungkook said nothing at first. His gaze dropped to the floor. It went against everything he was raised to believe. But then again, so had loss.

“I’ll consider it,” he said at last, voice cold but steady. “But if we do this—I choose the surrogate.”

Lisa looked at him, then nodded once.

Outside, the lights of Seoul flickered.

Inside, something dangerous had already begun to shift.

Stacks of files cluttered the mahogany coffee table, each marked with neat labels and medical records. Clinical photos. Background checks. Fertility scores.

“Twenty-three, no health complications. She’s done it before,” Lisa said, holding up a file.

Jungkook barely looked up from his phone. “Too experienced.”

Lisa frowned. “Is that a problem?”

He tossed the phone aside and leaned forward, picking up another folder. “I don’t want someone who’s done this for money a dozen times. It feels… impersonal.”

“It is impersonal, Jungkook. It’s surrogacy. It’s a contract, not a fairy tale.”- Lisa said

“I’m not looking for a fairy tale,” he muttered. “Just someone who won’t make this feel like a business deal.”

“It is impersonal, Jungkook. It’s surrogacy. It’s a contract, not a fairy tale.”

“I’m not looking for a fairy tale,” he muttered. “Just someone who won’t make this feel like a business deal.”

Lisa sighed, pushing the folders away. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.”

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s another way?”

She hesitated, eyes scanning the room before settling on a memory. “Do you remember the last time I was in the hospital? For the miscarriage?”

Jungkook’s jaw tensed, but he nodded. “Of course.”

“There was a boy there,” she said quietly. “He was taking care of his mother. Cancer. Stage four.”

Jungkook’s eyes lifted to meet hers.

“I noticed him in the waiting room,” Lisa continued. “He was quiet… young, maybe twenty-two. Soft-spoken. The kind of person you forget—until he looks at you. And then you realize you don’t want to stop looking.”

Jungkook was listening now. Not because of the words—but the tone. Thoughtful. A little distant. A little too intrigued.

Lisa kept going. “We spoke once. He said he was working odd jobs to cover her treatment. Barely getting by. His name was Kim Taehyung.”

“Taehyung…” Jungkook repeated, testing the name on his tongue. It felt unfamiliar. Soft.

“I don't know why I remembered him,” Lisa said, rubbing her temples. “But when you said you wanted to choose the surrogate… he came to mind. He’s not perfect, I’m sure. But something about him... felt honest.”

Jungkook leaned back, silent for a moment.

“What does he look like?” he asked.

Lisa glanced at him, a little surprised. “Does it matter?”

Jungkook shrugged. “If someone’s going to carry my child, I’d like to know who they are.”

Lisa nodded slowly. “Delicate. Pale skin. Big eyes. Like he’s made of porcelain. Honestly, he looked like he’d fall apart if you raised your voice.”

Jungkook didn’t respond, but something shifted in his expression.

Lisa reached for her phone. “I can try contacting him. I still have the hospital's social worker’s number. Maybe he’ll agree to meet us—though I doubt he’s done anything like this before.”

“Even better,” Jungkook said simply.

Lisa gave him a curious glance. “You really don’t want someone experienced?”

“I want someone… untouched,” he replied, voice low. “Someone who doesn’t see this as a transaction.”

Lisa hesitated. Then, slowly, she pressed the call button.

Jungkook’s fingers tapped the armrest rhythmically.

Kim Taehyung.

A stranger. A name. A possibility.

But Jungkook already felt something stir inside him something dark.Something possessive.

And he hadn’t even seen the boy yet.