The lake house had become their sanctuary. No prying eyes, no cruel words, no shame. Just them — Jungkook, Taehyung, and the tiny life growing inside her.

Months passed. Taehyung’s belly swelled until she could hardly see her own feet. Jungkook spoiled her endlessly, massaging her swollen ankles, feeding her by hand, kissing her round stomach each night as he whispered to their baby.

And then — one rainy dawn — their son arrived.

Taehyung’s screams echoed through the house, her body trembling with exhaustion. Jungkook never left her side, clutching her hand, kissing her damp forehead. When the doctor finally placed the wriggling, crying newborn on her chest, both of them broke down in tears.

He was perfect.

A boy with soft black hair, milky skin, and Jungkook’s nose, Jungkook’s eyes. Their baby.

Kook, whispering, voice broken: “He’s… he’s me. He’s us.”

Tae, teary smile: “Our little Jeon Taegguk.”

—

Six Months Later

The house was alive with laughter.

Baby Taegguk — now six months old — was the chubbiest, happiest baby either of them had ever seen. His cheeks were round like mochi, his arms and legs soft with rolls, his little belly poking out whenever he wriggled.

He was mischievous, too. Crawling faster than they could catch him, always reaching for things he wasn’t supposed to, giggling whenever Jungkook pretended to growl and chase him.

That afternoon, the three of them were sprawled in the living room.

Taehyung sat on the rug, her hair tied loosely, wearing a soft cotton dress. She cradled Taegguk against her chest, breastfeeding him as sunlight streamed through the curtains. The baby’s greedy little gulps filled the air, tiny fists gripping her breast.

Jungkook sat beside her, leaning back on one arm, watching them with adoration. His other hand stroked Taehyung’s thigh absentmindedly, unable to resist touching her.

Kook, voice low, reverent: “Do you know how beautiful you are like this? Feeding our son, glowing like some kind of goddess.”

Taehyung flushed, looking down at the baby.

Tae, softly: “I’m just his mother, Kook.”

Jungkook leaned closer, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Kook: “You’re everything. My woman. His mother. My whole damn life.”

Taegguk finished, milk dribbling from the corner of his mouth. Taehyung wiped him gently, kissing his fat cheek. The baby squealed, kicking his chubby legs.

Jungkook picked him up, tossing him gently into the air and catching him, making the baby giggle so hard his little body shook.

Kook, laughing: “Hear that, Tae? He’s already laughing like me.”

Taehyung smiled, her heart swelling. Watching the two of them together made her melt every time.

Later, when Taegguk finally fell asleep in his crib, the house quiet again, Jungkook pulled Taehyung into his arms. He kissed her slow, deep, tasting her sighs.

Kook, against her lips: “We made something perfect. And I’m never letting either of you go.”

Taehyung buried her face in his chest, whispering:

Tae: “I never thought I’d have this. Happiness. You. Him.”

Jungkook carried her to their bed, laying her down gently, his lips trailing down her neck. Even now, months after birth, he worshipped her body — every curve, every mark, every soft line.

And when he slid inside her, moving slow and deep, it wasn’t just fucking anymore. It was love.

Their son slept in the next room, safe and sound, while their bodies moved together, sealing a promise that had started with sin and ended with something unbreakable.

By morning, Jungkook lay on his back, Taehyung curled against him, her head on his chest. Baby Taegguk babbled in his crib, kicking his legs.

A family.

Their family.

And no one — not Hana, not the world — could take that away from them.