The sun rose like any other — soft and gentle through the gauzy curtains of their bedroom. Jungkook lay awake before Hyunbin did, her hand resting protectively over her flat belly, her mind spinning.

When he stirred beside her, she turned her face to his chest, pressing soft kisses over his bare skin. He looked down, sleepy and so sweet, brushing his fingers through her hair.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.

“Mm-hm,” she lied, nuzzling closer. “I’m perfect.”

An hour later, she stood at the front door in a tiny strappy dress, her hair falling like silk down her back. Hyunbin was pulling on his tie, about to leave for his morning class. He paused when he saw her, eyes widening a little.

“You look… wow,” he breathed. “Where are you going dressed like that?”

She giggled, standing on tiptoes to kiss him. “Just errands. Maybe a coffee with a friend. Don’t worry, professor — you’re the only one who gets to take this off.”

He blushed so sweetly her heart cracked again. He kissed her forehead, whispered “Love you,” and walked out the door with his bag slung over his shoulder, humming one of his dumb little songs as he went.

⸻

The drive to the hotel felt like a lifetime and an instant all at once. Every mile was another chance for her to turn around — to call him, to tell him the truth. But she didn’t.

She arrived just before noon, stepping out of her car with trembling hands. She caught her reflection in the tinted window — tiny dress, lips painted soft pink, her big eyes lined with kohl. Do it for him, she told herself. Give him this gift.

When Hyunbin’s father, Taehyung, opened the door to the suite, there was a moment of total silence — two people standing there, tied together by blood neither of them wanted to betray.

“Hi,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He looked her up and down — a slow sweep of those older green eyes so much like Hyunbin’s. But there was something different there too — harder, sharper. He stepped aside, letting her in.

They stood awkwardly by the bed. She pressed her hands to her thighs, feeling the hem of her dress ride up even more.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, voice rougher than she’d expected. He looked tense, almost angry — but not at her. Maybe at himself.

She nodded once. “It’s not for me,” she murmured. “It’s for him.”

His eyes softened just a touch. He stepped closer, cupping her jaw the same way Hyunbin did — but there was nothing sweet in the way his thumb traced her bottom lip. “You’re a wild girl to do this.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea.”

⸻

The clothes hit the floor like they didn’t matter. He undressed her fast — tugging the tiny dress down her shoulders, baring her full breasts, her soft hips. She gasped when his hands slid over her skin, rough and hot, nothing like Hyunbin’s gentle touch.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he growled against her neck. “Your man’s a fool not to knock you up every day.”

She shivered. “Don’t talk about him.”

“Oh, baby girl,” he rasped, pushing her down onto the bed, spreading her thighs wide. “But that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Getting you nice and full with his baby — my baby. Same difference.”

She whimpered when he buried his face between her thighs, eating her out with filthy, practiced flicks of his tongue that made her hips buck helplessly. She didn’t expect it — didn’t expect her body to light up for him like this, but it did.

“Fuck,” she gasped, her fingers clutching the sheets when he pulled back and pushed into her, thick and hard. She moaned, trying to hold back the guilt, the rush, the way it all blurred into something desperate and wrong and needed.

He fucked her rough, nothing like Hyunbin’s sweet worship. He grunted filthy things in her ear, telling her how she’d look all round and swollen, how she’d beg for more even when she was full.

And when he pressed his thumb right where he knew she’d break, her body betrayed her completely. She gasped out his name, her thighs trembling, and then she squirted — pleasure crashing over her like a tidal wave.

He kept going until he was buried deep, until she felt him spill inside her — warm, so full it almost hurt. Her mind went blank. She hated herself for loving the feeling for even a second.

⸻

When it was done, they lay side by side, breathing hard. She stared up at the ceiling, her chest still rising and falling, her heart cracking under the weight of her secret.

“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse.

She nodded, blinking back the tears that stung at her lashes. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Just… don’t ever tell him.”

He looked at her with a flicker of regret. “Your secret’s safe. Just hope he never finds out, sweetheart.”

She dressed in silence, tugging her tiny dress back over her flushed skin, her thighs still trembling.

For him, she told herself one last time before she walked out the door. Everything is for him.