When it was over, Jungkook tucked himself back into his pants, breathing hard — sweat still glistening on his chest.

He grabbed Taehyung’s chin roughly, dragged her down to his lips, and kissed her filthy — deep and wet, tasting her moans and her tears all at once.

“Good little cow,” he rasped, pulling back with a cruel smirk. “Keep those tits fat for me. I’ll be back.”

Then he left — just like that — like what they’d done hadn’t smashed every part of her life to pieces.

⸻

Taehyung stood there for a minute — naked, wet, her thighs sticky with what they’d done — until the soft weight of what waited upstairs hit her.

Hyunbin.

Her sweet Hyunbin — who’d stood there like a ghost, watching her ride his father like a bitch in heat.

She hurried to clean herself up — wiping her legs, brushing her hair, pulling on a soft slip dress that showed just enough of her swollen breasts to keep him docile. She dabbed at her eyes, practicing the quiver in her lips in the mirror until she looked fragile, broken — like the victim she’d never truly be.

Then she climbed the stairs — each step a dull echo of her own guilt — and pushed open their bedroom door.

⸻

He was there.

Sitting stiffly on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, hands hanging uselessly between his knees. His eyes were bloodshot, staring at nothing — his mind desperately trying to unsee what he’d seen.

“Hyunbin…” she whispered, voice trembling perfectly. “Baby…”

She sat beside him, so close her bare thigh brushed his jeans. He didn’t flinch — but he didn’t look at her either.

She leaned in — soft hair brushing his shoulder — and let herself sniffle, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Perfect.

“I know you saw,” she whispered, her hand creeping to his thigh. “I know it looked so horrible. But, baby… you don’t understand.”

He flinched then — his voice so quiet, it made her chest tighten. “You… you were with him. You were riding him, Taehyung.”

She let her tears fall freely now, her hands cupping his jaw, forcing him to see her wide, broken eyes.

“Yes. Yes, I did. But listen — listen to me, Hyunbin. He came by to see his grandson. To see Taeho. And we… we talked about your mother, baby. How lonely he’s been. You know he worked so hard his whole life, right? Gave you everything.”

Hyunbin’s eyes shimmered — like a little boy lost in the dark. “But you — Taehyung — you let him—”

She pressed her forehead to his, her voice shaking, dripping with false devotion. “I thought — I thought he deserved something. Just once. A kindness. For everything he did for you. For us. He was so sad, Hyunbin. So broken.”

She kissed his lips — soft, desperate — tasting the salt of his tears and her own lies.

“You know me,” she whispered. “You know I love you. You’re my husband. My soulmate. Jungkook is nothing. Just a lonely old man who lost his wife. I just wanted to give him comfort. Just once.”

Hyunbin’s shoulders shook — his eyes squeezed shut — and Taehyung knew. She felt it when he broke: that sweet, poor man wanting so badly to believe the lie, because the truth would kill him.

She curled into his lap, her voice baby-soft, dripping sugar over poison.

“Please don’t hate me. I’m still yours, Hyunbin. Only yours. I love you so much.”

His arms wrapped around her — trembling — pulling her in like he needed her to breathe.

“I love you too,” he choked out. “I love you, Taehyung. I don’t want to lose you.”

She smiled against his chest — a cold, twisted little smile — and closed her eyes, already hearing Jungkook’s filthy praise echo in her head:

“Good girl. Keep him wrapped up tight. My good little cow.”