As the door clicked shut behind our family, a comfortable silence enveloped the room, yet it was laced with an undercurrent of awkwardness. I stole a glance at Jungkook, who was carefully adjusting the blanket around our son, Jungsoo. A soft smile crept onto my face, warmed by the sight of him, so tender and focused. It struck me just how much had changed between us in such a short time. Jungkook had actually thought about a name for our baby—Jeon Jungsoo. It resonated deeply within me, a beautiful blend of our identities and hopes. This small gesture felt monumental, like he was acknowledging that we were more than just a couple tied together by obligation; we were a family.

Jungkook laid Jungsoo down in the crib, his movements gentle and deliberate. I watched him, my heart swelling with an inexplicable mix of joy and nervousness. His gaze lingering on Jungsoo’s tiny face. “He looks so peaceful.”  he murmured, the awe in his voice pulling at my heartstrings.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my heart racing. “He really is.”

After a few moments of silence, I could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on me. “Um, I’ll just…” Jungkook hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit that I found endearing. “I need to wash up.”

“Sure, go ahead,” I replied, forcing a casual tone, though my heart thudded in my chest. The atmosphere felt charged, like we were both aware of the fragile state of our relationship, yet hopeful for what lay ahead.

Once he was gone, I approached Jungsoo’s crib, looking down at my sleeping baby. His tiny face was so peaceful, and I couldn’t help but trace the outline of his features with my gaze. His button nose and soft, rounded cheeks were a perfect blend of both of us. I felt a wave of determination wash over me; I would do anything to ensure his happiness. I’d fight for it, even if it meant sacrificing my own comfort or desires. He was my priority now, and I would protect him fiercely.

A few moments later, Jungkook returned, and we gravitated back to Jungsoo’s crib, our hearts swelling as we took in our son’s serene expression.

“Look at him,” Jungkook murmured, his voice low and filled with awe. “He’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, my heart racing at his sincerity. I could see the corners of his lips twitch into a smile, and it warmed me from the inside out.

After a few moments of silence, I could feel the exhaustion creeping back in, tugging at my eyelids. “Let’s get some rest,” I suggested softly.

“Good idea,” he agreed, but we lingered a moment longer, both lost in the world of our son. Eventually, we settled down for the night, the soft sounds of Jungsoo’s breathing a soothing backdrop.

Hours later, I jolted awake to the sound of a soft whimper coming from Jungsoo’s crib. My heart raced as I instinctively reached for him, my maternal instincts kicking in. “Shh, baby, I’m here,” I cooed softly, cradling him in my arms and feeling the warmth of his tiny body against me.

“Is he okay?” Jungkook mumbled groggily from the other side of the bed.

“He’s just fussy,” I reassured him, “You can sleep; I’ll handle it.”

“No, I should help,” he insisted, pushing himself up.

I shook my head, feeling shy and awkward. “Really, it’s fine. I think he might just be hungry.”

But Jungkook wouldn’t hear it. “Arin, at least let me do something. It’s the minimum I can do.”

His determination surprised me, and I felt a warmth spread through my chest. I looked down at Jungsoo, who was starting to root around, clearly wanting to nurse. But the thought of doing that in front of Jungkook made my cheeks flush.

“Um, I think he need to feed him,” I mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “Maybe you should just…go back to bed?”

“I’m fine, really,” Jungkook insisted, refusing to budge.

With a sigh of defeat, I cradled Jungsoo closer, feeling the pull of motherhood wash over me. I gently guided him to my breast, focusing intently on helping him latch. It was a new experience for me, and I found myself fumbling slightly. My mother and mother-in-law’s teachings echoed in my mind, encouraging and soothing.

As I settled into the rhythm of nursing Jungsoo, a wave of shyness washed over me, intensifying the intimate atmosphere of the moment. Although it wasn’t my first time being exposed in front of Jungkook, this felt remarkably different. The air was charged with an unspoken understanding, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze on me.

Everyone had always seen us as couple, but this was a new layer of vulnerability that we hadn’t explored together yet. My heart raced as I adjusted my position, my cheeks flushing with warmth. I instinctively bit my lower lip, glancing over at Jungkook, who was still watching me intently, his expression a mix of admiration and something deeper that I couldn’t quite place.

As Jungsoo latched on, I focused on my son’s small features—the way his little eyebrows furrowed in concentration and how his tiny fingers curled around my breast, seeking comfort and nourishment. This was a sacred act, yet the awareness of Jungkook’s eyes on me made it feel almost overwhelming.

I felt exposed and vulnerable, the tender act of feeding my child unfolding in front of my husband. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light across the room, illuminating Jungkook’s features as he observed us. The way he stared made my heart flutter, a mix of embarrassment and pride swelling within me. His gaze was dark and soft, filled with an intensity that made me want to curl in on myself yet simultaneously bloom under his attention.

With every suckle from Jungsoo, I felt a connection to him deepen, but it was impossible to ignore the sensation of Jungkook’s admiration, which sent shivers down my spine. I was torn between the instinct to shield myself from his penetrating gaze and the urge to revel in the moment, to embrace this shared experience of motherhood and partnership.

I shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, but the act felt intimate and vulnerable. I could feel Jungkook’s eyes trailing from Jungsoo to me, studying the way I cradled our baby, the tender way I brushed my fingers against his downy hair. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, acutely aware of how close we were and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

His gaze was intense, filled with a kind of softness that made my heart race. It was as if he was promising something to our son, a silent vow to protect and love him unconditionally. But it was also a look that made me feel exposed, my every move under scrutiny. I glanced at him and felt my stomach twist with shyness, unable to maintain eye contact for too long.

The room felt smaller, our connection more profound as I nursed Jungsoo. I could feel the warmth radiating from Jungkook as he sat beside me, the tension between us palpable. The air was thick with unspoken words, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. Did he see me as a mother of his child, his wife, or did he still see the girl he married because of force?

Every soft coo from Jungsoo brought a smile to my lips, yet I could hardly shake the shyness creeping in. I was completely devoted to my son in this moment, but the lingering awareness of Jungkook’s presence heightened everything. The way he watched me made me feel beautiful and bashful, and I found myself wanting to hide yet wanting to show off this new, raw side of myself.

I caught Jungkook’s gaze again, and for a moment, we shared a deep, intimate silence. My heart raced, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as our eyes locked. I wondered if he could see how shy I felt, how exposed I was, and yet how completely devoted I was to our baby. It was a strange juxtaposition, this blend of motherhood and vulnerability, of wanting to shield myself while simultaneously wanting to embrace this new part of myself.

I dared to meet his gaze once more. The way he looked at me—intense yet filled with warmth—made me feel like the only person in the world. I was shy, but there was something empowering about sharing this moment with him, about letting him witness the depths of my love for our child.

As I focused back on Jungsoo, the warmth of the moment wrapped around me, banishing the last vestiges of self-consciousness.

“Wow,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were witnessing something sacred. His gaze flicked from Jungsoo to me, a mix of lust and tenderness swirling in his expression. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush my cheeks.

“I—uh—” I stammered, my confidence wavering.

“I need to…” Jungkook broke the silence, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I’ll be right back.” His voice held a hint of urgency as he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving me feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

Once he was gone, I focused on Jungsoo, who was suckling contentedly. A sense of fulfillment washed over me; this was my life now. I felt a wave of love surge through me as I gazed down at my son. I wanted to give him the world, to protect him from every hurt and hardship.

When Jungkook returned, he paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of me nursing our son. I could feel his eyes on me again, but this time it was softer, almost reverent.

“Is he okay?” Jungkook asked quietly, his voice low and tender.

“Yeah, he’s just hungry,” I replied, smiling down at Jungsoo, who had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

“Good,” he said, stepping closer to the crib and peering down at our baby with a mix of wonder and admiration. There was a promise in his gaze, as if he were silently vowing to protect and cherish this little life.

After a few more moments, Jungkook settled back onto the bed, his presence bringing an inexplicable comfort. We lay there, listening to the soft rhythm of Jungsoo’s breathing, feeling the weight of our responsibilities but also the joy of being parents together.

As sleep began to pull at my eyelids, I felt a strange mix of exhilaration and vulnerability. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around us, binding us closer together in this journey of parenthood.

“Goodnight, Arin,” he murmured softly.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” I replied, my heart swelling with hope.

We fell asleep in that peaceful moment, united by our love for Jungsoo, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead as a family.

-----★-----★------★-------★------★-----★------

NEXT DAY

As evening cast a warm glow over the living room, the entire family gathered together, a rare and treasured moment of unity. The room buzzed with soft laughter and gentle coos as everyone’s attention focused on the little ones. Taehyung, seated close to Miso, had an arm around her shoulders, holding So Mun close as the baby’s chubby fingers reached out to tug at his father’s collar. Miso’s laughter filled the room, light and infectious, her face soft as she watched her husband and son.

Across the room, Jungkook sat quietly, a hint of longing in his eyes as he watched Taehyung effortlessly share affection with his family. It stirred something deep within him, an unfamiliar ache to close the distance between him and Arin, who sat beside him, cradling their two-day-old son, Jungsoo, in her arms. He kept glancing at his wife and baby, caught between wanting to reach out and the hesitancy that still lingered. He wasn’t sure if he had earned the closeness he saw Taehyung embracing so freely.

After a few moments of shared smiles and small talk, Miso leaned forward, her voice a blend of warmth and resolve. "I actually have some news, too." Her tone caught everyone’s attention, and they looked at her curiously. She shared a proud yet hesitant smile. “I’ll be resuming my job soon… back at the hospital.”

Soojin’s face softened with understanding, though a faint trace of concern appeared in her eyes. “Are you sure, Miso? You’ve only just had So Mun.”

Miso nodded, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Yes, I feel ready. So Mun is already four months old, and I miss my work. It’s such a big part of who I am, and I think it’ll be good for me...for us.”

Taehyung’s arm tightened slightly around her, his expression a mixture of pride and protectiveness. “You’ve always been amazing at what you do, Miso,” he said softly, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. “As long as you’re ready, we’ll support you every step of the way.”

Miso’s smile brightened at his words, her gaze moving from Taehyung to the rest of the family. “Besides, my hospital has a daycare center for staff. So Mun can be nearby, and I can check on him during breaks.”

Jungkook’s father, Minho, gave an approving nod. “A good plan. Balancing your passion with family is something to admire. So Mun will grow up knowing how hardworking his mother is.”

Soojin reached over to give Miso’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re all here to help, Miso. So Mun has a big family who loves him.” Her gaze shifted to Taehyung. “And you’ll support her, won’t you?”

Taehyung chuckled, giving Miso’s shoulder a playful squeeze. “I wouldn’t dare do otherwise. She’d have my head if I didn’t.”

The room broke into laughter, the warmth of family support thickening the air. Jungkook, watching the ease of their affection, couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing to be able to do the same. He glanced at Arin, who was focused on their son, and felt a rush of affection mix with a renewed determination to give his family the devotion they deserved.

After some time, as Jungsoo’s tiny eyelids began to droop, Arin prepared to rise, intending to put him down for the night. Jungkook, feeling a surge of responsibility, reached out, stopping her gently. “Let me do it,” he offered, his voice soft but carrying an unexpected steadiness.

Arin blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback, as were the others. But she recovered quickly, a warm smile gracing her lips as she handed their son over to Jungkook. He cradled Jungsoo carefully, his gaze lingering on the baby’s peaceful face as he made his way to the nursery.

Everyone exchanged a glance, a pleased expression passing between them as they saw Jungkook stepping into a new role. Taehyung leaned back with a smirk, nudging Miso gently. “Maybe fatherhood is softening him up.”

Miso laughed softly, watching Jungkook’s retreating figure with a smile. “Maybe it is,” she murmured. “He’s trying. I think it means the world to him.”

When Jungkook returned, his expression was softer, but there was a weight in his eyes that spoke of unspoken thoughts. No one pressed him, allowing the warmth of family to carry the evening forward. After a simple dinner filled with conversation and laughter, everyone finally retired to their respective rooms, bidding each other goodnight.

In the quiet of their bedroom, Jungkook lay beside Arin as she drifted to sleep, his gaze flickering between her and Jungsoo. The faint glow from the streetlights cast a gentle glow over their son’s crib, illuminating his peaceful face. Jungkook watched him in silence, a heavy blend of emotions weighing down his heart. He felt love, fear, and a relentless urge to protect—yet with that came the lingering guilt, the sense that he wasn’t quite worthy of this happiness.

Arin had fallen asleep quickly, exhaustion from the day claiming her almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Jungkook, however, lay awake, thoughts churning. He reached out, his hand brushing over the soft curve of Arin’s hand where it lay close to his. “I’ll do better for you both,” he murmured quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “For you, and for him.”

The night passed slowly, his mind still restless with the promise he had made silently to his family. But despite the weight of his thoughts, as he looked at the sleeping faces of his wife and son, a quiet strength began to build within him. Jungkook lay in the quiet darkness of the bedroom, his gaze lingering on the soft rise and fall of his wife Arin’s breath and the faint whimpering sounds that escaped Jungsoo’s crib, he felt a churning weight deep in his chest—a darkness he could neither shake nor ignore. Shadows from the streetlights outside crept along the walls, adding a heavy, almost somber tone to the room, like silent witnesses to the turmoil that he kept buried inside.

He hadn’t meant to end up here, tangled in secrets and lies. Guilt pressed against him, relentless and cold, as he thought about the things he’d done—things that, if they ever saw the light of day, would unravel the fragile happiness he was only beginning to grasp. Arin’s trust in him, the innocent smile of his newborn son... they felt like treasures he’d stolen, things he had no right to claim. How could he call himself a father and husband when he was hiding such dark pieces of himself?

Turning his head slightly, he looked at Arin’s sleeping form, her features softened and serene in slumber, and his heart clenched. She had trusted him, opened her heart to him in ways he’d never thought he deserved. He knew she saw something good in him—something he could barely recognize in himself. But if she ever found out, if she ever knew the weight of the secrets he kept, it would shatter her.

He rubbed a hand over his face, jaw clenched tight as memories he tried to bury clawed their way back to the surface. The choices he had made, the actions he had taken... they felt like chains around his chest, binding him in ways he couldn't escape. And yet, he knew he couldn’t stop. Not now. The path he’d chosen, the deals he’d struck, had consequences he couldn’t just walk away from.

The thought of losing this life—of Arin turning away from him, her gaze filled with betrayal, or Jungsoo growing up to hear rumors about his father, the kind that leave scars and tarnish innocence—was too painful to bear. He could already feel the shame prickling his skin, the heaviness pooling like lead in his stomach. What kind of father could he hope to be, carrying these secrets?

But he would rather carry the weight alone than let it touch them. He knew what that darkness felt like, the way it could consume everything it touched. He wouldn’t let that happen to Arin or Jungsoo. They deserved better than the truth he harbored.

A grim resolve settled in his chest, mingling with the remorse he tried to bury. He would hide this, bury it as deeply as he could, for as long as he could. No one—not Arin, not his family, not his son—would ever know. If they did, the disappointment, the hurt in their eyes, would tear him apart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the silence, voice barely a breath. He wasn’t even sure who he was apologizing to. Arin, for the lies he’d woven into the foundation of their life together? Jungsoo, for the shadows that lurked in his father’s past? Himself, for the man he could never seem to become?

But it was an apology all the same—a hollow, aching promise to protect them from the darkness, even if it meant hiding part of himself forever.

************************************

Hey there, amazing readers!

Whew, that was a chapter, wasn’t it? Our boy Jungkook lying in bed, wide-eyed, thinking about all his life choices... sounds like someone had a little too much time to stew, huh? We’ve all been there—3 a.m., staring at the ceiling, suddenly remembering something cringey from  years ago… only, in JK’s case, it’s slightly more serious (just a tad, y’know, family-level secret stuff).

But hey, who doesn’t love a bit of mystery and drama, am I right? I think we can all agree, Jungkook’s juggling act is gonna make things veryyyy interesting. Will he figure things out? Or will he keep piling on those secrets like he's stacking a tower of Jenga blocks ready to tumble? (And when it does, I’ll have popcorn ready.)

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this peek into his guilty conscience! Let me know your thoughts—whether you're rooting for him to open up or keep us on the edge of our seats a little longer!

Catch you in the next chapter for more secrets, drama, and (hopefully) some well-deserved happy moments. Thanks for reading, and love you all tons!

Best, StarlitWings