Archive of Our Own

The first thing anyone noticed about Jungkook was the way he stood, like he was already bored with whatever might happen next. His hands stayed shoved in his pockets, shoulders loose but never slouched, as if his body refused to acknowledge anything resembling surrender. Tonight, the club’s neon washed over his sharp jawline in erratic pulses, turning him briefly violet, then red, then something sickly green. He didn’t blink at the colors. Didn’t react to the bass shuddering through the floor. Just watched.

Across the room, Taehyung laughed too loud at something a friend said, his head tipping back, throat exposed. He’d dressed for attention; sheer fabric clinging to his waist, the dip of his collarbones glistening under the strobes. Every movement was careless in a way that suggested he’d never had to be careful. Not really. Not in the way that mattered.

Jungkook’s tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. He’d seen Taehyung before, of course. Everyone had. The way he moved through crowds like they owed him space. The way his lips parted around the rim of his glass, slow, deliberate, even when no one was looking.

A hand clapped Jungkook’s shoulder, some guy from the engineering department, grinning, shouting over the music. Jungkook didn’t turn. Didn’t answer. After a beat, the hand retreated.

Near the bar, Taehyung peeled away from his group, swaying just enough to make it look accidental. His fingers trailed along the edge of the counter as he walked, like he was marking territory, or  like he needed the stability. Jungkook exhaled through his nose and pushed off the wall.

Jungkook moved through the crowd with the ease of someone who'd never had to ask for permission to take up space. Bodies parted for him; not out of deference, but because his presence carried a weight that pressed against the air, shifting people aside without conscious thought on their part. He kept his gaze fixed on Taehyung's back, the sheer fabric clinging to the dip of his spine, the way his hips rolled slightly with each step. Deliberate. Testing. Jungkook wondered if Taehyung even realized he was doing it, or if it was just something his body knew how to do without instruction.

Taehyung reached the end of the bar where the lights didn’t quite reach, the shadows swallowing the gold at his wrists, the glitter dusted over his collarbones. He leaned against the wall, one foot braced behind him, and pulled a cigarette from somewhere inside his sleeve. The flick of his lighter was lazy, practiced. Smoke curled from his lips as he exhaled, his eyes sliding half-shut. Jungkook could see the moment Taehyung noticed him; the slight hitch in his breathing, the way his fingers tightened around the cigarette before forcing relaxation. But Taehyung didn’t look at him. Not directly. Just tilted his head back against the wall, throat working as he swallowed.

"You don’t smoke," Jungkook said, stepping close enough that his voice wouldn’t have to compete with the music. Not that it mattered. Taehyung flinched anyway, his shoulders tensing before he forced them down.  

"Maybe I started," Taehyung said. His voice was light, but there was something underneath it, something frayed. He took another drag, holding the smoke in his lungs too long before letting it spill out in a slow, controlled stream. His fingers trembled. Just slightly.  

Jungkook reached out and plucked the cigarette from Taehyung’s grip, bringing it to his own lips. He didn’t inhale. Just let it burn between them, the ember glowing bright in the dim. Taehyung watched him, his lips parted, his breath uneven. Jungkook could smell the alcohol on him, something sweet and cloying, mixed with the sharpness of nicotine.  

"You don’t like it," Jungkook said. He tapped the ash off against the wall, watching Taehyung track the movement. "You just like the way people look at you when you do it."  

Taehyung’s laugh was too loud, too sharp. "And how do people look at me, Jungkook?"  

Jungkook didn’t answer. He dropped the cigarette, grinding it beneath his shoe, and stepped closer. Taehyung’s back hit the wall, his breath catching. Jungkook could feel the heat coming off him, the way his pulse jumped under the thin skin of his wrist when Jungkook’s fingers brushed against it.  

"You’re shaking," Jungkook murmured.  

Taehyung swallowed again. His eyelashes fluttered, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. "It’s cold."  

Jungkook smiled, just a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Liar."  

For a second, Taehyung looked like he might argue. Then his gaze dropped to Jungkook’s mouth, his own lips parting. The music pounded around them, the bass thrumming through the floor, up through Jungkook’s legs, his ribs. Taehyung’s chest rose and fell too fast.  

Jungkook leaned in, close enough that his breath ghosted over Taehyung’s cheek. "You should be more careful," he said, low, almost gentle.  

Taehyung shivered. "Why?"  

Jungkook didn’t answer. Just pressed his palm flat against the wall beside Taehyung’s head, caging him in. Taehyung’s breath hitched. His hips twitched forward, just slightly, before he caught himself.

The air between them thickened, charged like the moments before a storm breaks. Taehyung’s pulse fluttered visibly beneath his skin, a flash-quick rhythm Jungkook could track without touching him. He wanted to, though. Wanted to press his fingers to that frantic beat and feel it stutter under his grip. Taehyung’s lips were parted, his breath coming too fast, and Jungkook could see the faint sheen of sweat at his temples, the way his throat worked as he swallowed again. 

Jungkook shifted his weight, deliberately crowding Taehyung further against the wall. The music drowned out the sound of Taehyung’s sharp inhale, but Jungkook felt it, the way his chest expanded against him, the hitch when their bodies brushed. Taehyung’s fingers twitched at his sides, like he couldn’t decide whether to push or pull. “You’re not as good at this as you think,” Jungkook murmured, his voice barely audible under the bass. He tilted his head, watching the way Taehyung’s eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks. “All that pretending, and you still can’t hide how scared you are.”

Taehyung’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward instinctively; whether to close the distance or escape it, Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’m not scared,” he said, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. His hands lifted, hovering uncertainly between them before curling into fists again. Jungkook smirked, catching one wrist and pinning it to the wall beside Taehyung’s head. The skin there was warm, the bones delicate under his grip. Taehyung made a noise, small, choked and Jungkook tightened his hold just to feel him squirm.

The scent of Taehyung’s cologne mixed with sweat and nicotine, something heady and sharp that made Jungkook’s stomach clench. He leaned closer, inhaling deliberately, and watched Taehyung’s pupils dilate. “Liar,” Jungkook repeated, softer this time, almost tender. His free hand trailed down Taehyung’s side, fingers skimming the sheer fabric until he found the dip of his waist. Taehyung shuddered, his breath stuttering out in a wet gasp when Jungkook’s thumb pressed into the softness just above his hipbone. 

“You-” Taehyung started, then cut himself off with a whine as Jungkook’s fingers dipped lower, tracing the curve of his pussy through the damp fabric. Jungkook could feel the heat of him, the way his thighs tensed, trembling with the effort to stay still. “Stop,” Taehyung whispered, but his hips canted forward, seeking friction even as the word left his lips. Jungkook laughed, low and dark, and pressed his palm firmly against him, relishing the choked moan it dragged from Taehyung’s throat. 

“You don’t want me to stop,” Jungkook said, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear. He could feel the way Taehyung’s body arched into his touch, the way his breath came in ragged little gasps. “You just want to pretend you do.” Taehyung’s wrists strained against his grip, his chest heaving, but he didn’t pull away. Didn’t fight. Jungkook’s fingers slid beneath the waistband of his pants, and Taehyung’s whole body jerked, a sob catching in his throat. The wetness that greeted Jungkook’s touch was obscene, proof of the lie in every trembling inch of him. “See?” Jungkook murmured, curling his fingers just enough to make Taehyung whimper. “You’re already fucking yourself on my hand.” 

Taehyung’s head tipped back, his lips parted around a silent plea. Jungkook watched the tears gather at the corners of his eyes, the way his throat worked as he swallowed back sounds he didn’t want to make. It was pathetic. It was perfect. Jungkook pressed closer, his breath hot against Taehyung’s neck as he whispered, “You’re going to take it, aren’t you? All of it.” Taehyung didn’t answer. 

He didn't need to. 

His body said yes for him.

Jungkook didn’t wait for Taehyung to nod, didn’t wait for permission that neither of them pretended would come. His fingers twisted deeper, the heel of his palm grinding against Taehyung’s clit in slow, deliberate circles. Taehyung’s back arched off the wall, a ragged moan tearing from his throat as his thighs trembled violently. 

His wrists strained against Jungkook’s grip, not to pull away but to press closer, his body betraying him with every shuddering breath. Jungkook watched the tears spill over, tracking down Taehyung’s flushed cheeks, and smiled. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, curling his fingers just enough to make Taehyung gasp. “Like you’ve been waiting for this.”  

The noise Taehyung made was half-sob, half-whimper, his hips jerking forward as Jungkook’s thumb circled his clit with bruising pressure. His cunt clenched around Jungkook’s fingers, hot and slick, and Jungkook could feel the way his body fought itself; trying to pull away even as it begged for more. Taehyung’s breath hitched, his chest heaving, and Jungkook leaned in to lick the salt from his cheek, his lips brushing the shell of Taehyung’s ear. “You’re going to come,” he said, low and firm, like it was an order. Taehyung shook his head frantically, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, but his body was already tightening, already yielding. Jungkook pressed his fingers deeper, twisting them just so, and Taehyung’s knees buckled with a choked cry.  

Jungkook caught him before he could slide to the floor, his grip on Taehyung’s wrist tightening as he hauled him upright. Taehyung’s breath came in ragged gasps, his entire body trembling, his thighs slick with his own arousal. Jungkook didn’t let him recover, didn’t give him a moment to think. He spun Taehyung around, pressing his chest against the wall, and yanked his pants down just enough to expose the curve of his ass. Taehyung whimpered, his fingers scrambling against the concrete, but Jungkook didn’t pause. He spat into his palm, slicked himself roughly, and pushed inside without warning.  

Taehyung screamed.  

The sound was swallowed by the music, but Jungkook felt it; the way Taehyung’s body clenched around him, tight and hot and resisting even as it yielded. He gripped Taehyung’s hips hard enough to bruise, his thrusts sharp and uneven at first, then deeper, more controlled. Taehyung’s sobs were muffled against his own arm, his back arching as Jungkook fucked into him with relentless precision. “You like this,” Jungkook growled, his breath hot against Taehyung’s nape. “You fucking love it.” Taehyung shook his head, his fingers clawing at the wall, but his body arched back into every thrust, his cunt fluttering around Jungkook’s cock like it was trying to pull him deeper.  

Jungkook’s hand slid around Taehyung’s throat, not squeezing, just holding, just feeling the way his pulse rabbitted under his fingertips. He could feel Taehyung’s breath hitch, his body going taut, and then Taehyung was coming again, his cunt gripping Jungkook so tight it almost hurt. Jungkook fucked him through it, his thrusts turning erratic, his own release building low in his gut. When he came, it was with Taehyung’s name bitten into his shoulder, his teeth sinking into the sweat-slick skin as Taehyung shuddered beneath him.  

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Jungkook stepped back, letting Taehyung slump against the wall, his breath coming in wet, ragged gasps. Jungkook tucked himself back into his pants, his gaze lingering on the mess between Taehyung’s thighs, the way his fingers trembled where they pressed against the concrete.  

He leaned down, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear. “Next time,” he murmured, “don’t pretend you don’t want it.”  

Then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Taehyung shaking and gasping against the wall.

Taehyung didn’t move for a long time after Jungkook left. His cheek pressed against the cold concrete, his breath fogging the wall in uneven bursts. His thighs were sticky, his cunt still throbbing with the aftershocks of what Jungkook had done to him, no, what he’d let Jungkook do. The music pulsed around him, the bass vibrating through his ribs, but it felt distant now, muffled, like he was hearing it through water. His fingers twitched against the wall, nails cracked from where he’d clawed at it.  

A hand touched his shoulder; gentle, tentative. Taehyung flinched so hard his elbow cracked against the concrete. "Hey," a voice said, too soft, too concerned. One of his friends. Taehyung couldn’t look at them. Couldn’t bear to see the confusion, the pity. He swallowed, tasting blood where he’d bitten his lip, and pushed off the wall. His legs shook, but he forced them to hold his weight. "You okay?" the voice asked, closer now. Taehyung wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded, even though his throat burned with the lie.  

The bathroom mirror showed him the wreckage. His lips were swollen, his eyelashes clumped together with half-dried tears. A bruise was already forming on his hip where Jungkook had gripped him, the shape of fingers pressed into his skin. Taehyung turned the sink on too hot, scrubbed his hands until they were red, until he couldn’t smell Jungkook on them anymore. His reflection wavered in the steam, distorted and unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the person staring back at him.  

Outside, the club was still throbbing with life, bodies grinding together under the strobe lights like nothing had happened. Like the world hadn’t tilted on its axis. Taehyung’s friends hovered near the exit, their faces pinched with worry. He forced a smile, let them bundle him into a cab, let them chatter about nothing as the city blurred past the window. His phone buzzed in his pocket, once, then again. He didn’t check it.  

—★

The apartment was too quiet when he stepped inside. Taehyung locked the door, then checked it again. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He peeled off his clothes in the bathroom, watching them pool at his feet, sheer and glittering and ruined. The shower scalded his skin, but he didn’t turn it down. He wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel anything that wasn’t the ghost of Jungkook’s hands on him.  

His phone buzzed from the counter. Taehyung stared at it, water dripping from his hair, his body tensed like it was something alive, something dangerous. After a long moment, he reached for it. A single notification lit up the screen, an unknown number. The message was short. Two words.  

"Next time."

Taehyung’s breath caught. His fingers trembled over the screen, his stomach twisting. He should delete it. Should block the number. Should… 

His phone buzzed again. A second message. A photo. Him, pressed against the wall, Jungkook’s hand wrapped around his throat. Taehyung’s knees gave out. He slid to the bathroom floor, his back against the tiles, his phone clutched in his hands. The shower still ran, steam curling around him, but he couldn’t move let alone think.  

The phone buzzed a third time.  

“You’ll beg."

Taehyung pressed his forehead to his knees and tried not to whimper.

The water turned cold before Taehyung could convince himself to move. His fingers were pruned, the bathroom tiles digging into his spine, but the thought of standing, of facing his own reflection again, twisted something sick and panicked in his gut. His phone had gone dark, but the messages burned behind his eyelids every time he blinked. 

*Next time. You’ll beg.*  

A knock at the door made him flinch. "Tae?" His roommate’s voice, muffled through the wood. "You’ve been in there forever. You okay?"  

Taehyung swallowed. His throat felt raw. "Fine," he managed, but it came out cracked, unconvincing. He heard the hesitation in the silence outside, the shuffle of feet.  

"...You sure?"  

"Yeah." He forced himself up, his legs trembling. The mirror was fogged, his reflection blurred into something faceless. Good. He didn’t want to see it.  

The hallway light was too bright. Taehyung kept his head down as he shuffled to his room, but he could feel his roommate’s gaze on his back; curious, concerned. He shut the door before any questions could follow, leaning against it until the wood dug into his shoulder blades. His bed was unmade, sheets tangled from this morning, when he’d been someone else. Someone whole.  

His phone buzzed on the nightstand. Taehyung didn’t reach for it. He knew what it would say. Knew, too, that he’d look eventually. That was the worst part.  

Sleep didn’t come. He lay stiff under the covers, every shift of fabric against his skin like a brand. The bruises were darker now, purpling along his hips, his thighs. He traced them with his fingertips, pressing just hard enough to hurt. Just hard enough to feel something besides the hollow ache between his legs.  

Morning came in slats of pale light through the blinds. Taehyung’s phone had buzzed twice more, once at 3 AM, again at 5. He still hadn’t checked.  

Coffee burned his tongue when he finally ventured into the kitchen. His roommate was gone, a note on the counter about groceries. The apartment was too quiet. Taehyung’s hands shook as he poured a second cup.  

His phone lit up with an incoming call. Unknown number.  

Taehyung stared at it. His pulse thudded in his ears. On the fourth ring, he swiped accept.  

Silence. Then…

"Did you sleep?" Jungkook’s voice, low, amused. Like they were sharing a secret.  

Taehyung’s grip tightened around the mug. He could hear background noise; traffic, maybe. Jungkook was outside. Somewhere close.  

"No," Taehyung said. His voice sounded foreign to him.  

Jungkook hummed. "Me neither." A pause. The sound of a lighter flicking. "Thought about you."  

Taehyung’s breath hitched. He should hang up. Should throw the phone against the wall.  

"You still taste good," Jungkook continued, conversational. "Been thinking about where else I want to put my mouth."  

The mug slipped from Taehyung’s fingers, shattering on the tile. Hot liquid splashed his ankles, but he barely felt it. His chest was too tight.  

"You there?" Jungkook asked, like he knew. Like he could see him.  

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. "Stop."  

A chuckle. "You don’t mean that."  

The call disconnected.  

Taehyung’s knees hit the floor. He pressed his palms into the spilled coffee, the porcelain shards biting into his skin. The pain was clean. Simple.  

His phone buzzed again.  

"Tonight."

Taehyung didn’t reply. But his body remembered the way Jungkook’s hands felt. His cunt clenched, empty.  

He was still on the floor when his roommate came home.  

The porcelain shards bit deeper into Taehyung's palms when the front door clicked open. He didn’t lift his head, didn’t move…just let the blood bead and drip onto the tiles, mixing with the cooling coffee. 

His roommate’s sharp inhale cut through the silence. "Jesus, Tae…" Hands grabbed his shoulders, hauling him up, but Taehyung’s legs wouldn’t hold. He slumped forward, forehead pressing into someone’s collarbone. "What the fuck happened?" The voice was too loud, too close. Taehyung’s ears rang with it.

He let himself be guided to the couch, let his hands be examined under the harsh kitchen light. The cuts weren’t deep, but they stung when antiseptic touched them. His roommate’s fingers were gentle, meticulous. Taehyung stared past them, at the wall, at nothing. His phone buzzed again from where it had fallen on the floor. Neither of them reached for it.

"You’re shaking," his roommate murmured, pressing gauze to his palm. Taehyung hadn’t noticed. His whole body felt like it belonged to someone else, something else. A puppet with cut strings. "Talk to me," the voice urged, softer now. Pleading.

Taehyung’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. What could he say? That he’d let Jungkook fuck him against a wall like an animal? That he’d come twice from it? That his phone was full of messages he couldn’t bring himself to delete? His throat worked, but no sound came out. His roommate sighed, tying off the bandage with too much care. "At least shower," they said. "You smell like a bar."

The water was lukewarm this time. Taehyung scrubbed until his skin burned, until the smell of Jungkook’s sweat and his own shame was gone. The bruises stood out starkly now, purple fingerprints circling his hips, the faint outline of teeth on his shoulder. He traced them with his nails, pressing until his vision blurred. His reflection in the shower door was blurred too, warped by steam and condensation. Good. He didn’t want to see it.

His phone had been placed on his nightstand when he emerged. Taehyung stared at it like it might bite. Three new notifications. He didn’t unlock it. Instead, he pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie(too big, swallowing him whole) and crawled into bed. Sleep dragged him under before he could think to fight it.

The dream was worse than being awake. Jungkook’s hands everywhere, his mouth hot and relentless. Taehyung’s body arched into it, his moans loud and shameless. When he woke, his thighs were sticky, his cunt throbbing. The room was dark. His phone glowed: 1:17 AM. A missed call. A text.

"I know you’re awake."

Taehyung’s breath hitched. His fingers trembled as he typed, “Leave me alone.” He hit send before he could regret it.

The reply was instant. "You don’t want that."

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. His heart hammered against his ribs. Another buzz. "Look outside."

The curtain rustled when he pulled it back. The street below was empty except for a single figure leaning against a lamppost. Even from this distance, Taehyung recognized the slope of Jungkook’s shoulders, the way his head tilted up, knowing. Their eyes met through the glass. Jungkook smiled, slow, and deliberate. He lifted his phone to his ear.

Taehyung’s rang.

He answered. Didn’t mean to. His body moved without him. "Stop," he whispered, but it lacked conviction. Lacked anything.

Jungkook’s chuckle was low, intimate. "Come down."

"I can’t."

"You will." A pause. The streetlight caught the curve of Jungkook’s jaw, the sharpness of his grin. "Or should I come up?"

Taehyung’s stomach twisted. His fingers clenched around the phone. "Don’t."

"Then come to me." Jungkook’s voice dropped, turned rough. "I’ll make it good for you."

Taehyung’s knees went weak. His cunt ached. He hated himself for it. Hated Jungkook more for knowing. "Fuck you," he breathed, but his forehead was already resting against the cool glass, his breath fogging it up.

Jungkook laughed. "That’s the idea."

The call ended. Taehyung didn’t move. Jungkook didn’t either, just stood there, waiting, knowing.

Taehyung’s fingers curled into the curtain, fabric biting into his palms where the bandages had come loose. Jungkook hadn’t moved, just stood there, phone now tucked away, hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. Like he knew Taehyung’s body better than Taehyung did. The streetlight painted Jungkook’s silhouette in gold and shadow, the sharp cut of his jaw, the lazy slope of his shoulders. Taehyung’s pulse hammered in his throat.

He shouldn’t go.

He was already pulling on his shoes.

The elevator ride down was a blur. Taehyung’s reflection in the metal doors was fractured, his face pale, lips bitten raw. He didn’t look at himself. The lobby was empty, the night guard dozing at his desk. Taehyung slipped past him, the automatic doors hissing open to release him into the humid night.

Jungkook hadn’t moved. His eyes tracked Taehyung’s approach, dark and unreadable. Up close, Taehyung could smell the cigarette smoke clinging to him, the faint tang of alcohol underneath. Jungkook’s grin was slow, predatory. "Knew you’d come."

Taehyung’s nails dug into his own palms. "What do you want?"

Jungkook stepped forward, closing the distance between them with effortless grace. His fingers brushed Taehyung’s wrist—light, almost teasing. Taehyung flinched, but didn’t pull away. "You," Jungkook murmured, his thumb pressing into Taehyung’s pulse point. "Always you."

The words shouldn’t have made Taehyung’s stomach clench. Shouldn’t have made his breath hitch. But they did. Jungkook’s fingers tightened, pulling Taehyung forward until their chests nearly touched. Taehyung could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell the sweat and nicotine under his cologne. He hated how his body reacted; how his pulse jumped under Jungkook’s grip, how his thighs pressed together instinctively.  

"Look at you," Jungkook murmured, his free hand lifting to trace Taehyung’s jaw. "Still shaking." His thumb brushed Taehyung’s bottom lip, pressing just hard enough to sting. "You thought about me."  

Taehyung’s throat worked. He couldn’t lie, not when Jungkook could feel the way his body betrayed him. Jungkook’s grin widened, sharp as a blade. "Knew it." He leaned in, his breath hot against Taehyung’s ear. "Bet you touched yourself thinking about me."  

Taehyung jerked back, but Jungkook’s grip on his wrist tightened, yanking him closer. "Don’t-"  

"Don’t what?" Jungkook’s other hand slid down Taehyung’s side, fingers digging into his hip where the bruise had already purpled. Taehyung gasped, his knees buckling. Jungkook caught him easily, pulling him flush against his chest. "You like it," he murmured, lips grazing Taehyung’s temple. "You just hate that you do."  

Taehyung’s nails bit into his palms again. He wanted to argue. Wanted to scream. But his body was already arching into Jungkook’s touch, already wanting. Jungkook laughed; low, dark and spun Taehyung around, pressing his back against the lamppost. The metal was cold through his hoodie, but Jungkook’s hands were hotter, rougher, shoving the fabric up to expose his stomach.  

"Fuck" Taehyung’s breath hitched as Jungkook’s teeth grazed his collarbone, biting down just hard enough to make him whimper. His hands scrabbled at Jungkook’s shoulders, not pushing away, just clinging. Jungkook’s mouth was relentless; sucking bruises into his skin, licking over the marks like he wanted to taste them. Taehyung’s head tipped back, his vision blurring at the edges.  

Jungkook’s hand slid lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of Taehyung’s sweatpants. Taehyung tensed, his thighs clamping together instinctively. "No"  

Jungkook didn’t pause. Didn’t hesitate. His fingers slid beneath the fabric, tracing the curve of Taehyung’s cunt through his damp underwear. Taehyung whined,his hips jerking forward despite himself. "See?" Jungkook breathed, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear. "You’re dripping."  

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut. He *was.* His thighs were slick with it, his underwear soaked through. Jungkook’s fingers pressed harder, rubbing slow circles over the fabric until Taehyung’s knees shook. "Stop"  

"You don’t mean that," Jungkook murmured, his free hand gripping Taehyung’s chin, forcing his head up. "Look at me."  

Taehyung’s lashes fluttered. Jungkook’s eyes were dark, endless. His fingers didn’t stop; just pressed harder, meaner, until Taehyung’s breath came in ragged gasps.  

"Say it," Jungkook whispered.  

Taehyung shook his head, his lips trembling.  

Jungkook’s fingers dipped lower, slipping beneath the waistband of Taehyung’s underwear. Taehyung sobbed, his hips jerking forward as Jungkook’s fingers found his clit, rubbing tight, cruel circles. "Say it," Jungkook repeated, his voice rough.  

Taehyung’s nails dug into Jungkook’s shoulders. His thighs trembled violently. "Please"  

Jungkook’s grin was vicious. "Please what?"  

Taehyung’s breath hitched. His body arched, his cunt clenching around nothing. 

"Fuck me."  

Jungkook’s fingers stilled. For a heartbeat, Taehyung thought he might pull away. Then Jungkook’s hand twisted, his fingers pressing inside without warning. Taehyung screamed, his back slamming against the lamppost as Jungkook fucked him with brutal precision.  

"This is what you wanted," Jungkook growled, his breath hot against Taehyung’s throat. "Isn’t it?"  

Taehyung couldn’t answer. Couldn’t think. His body was taut as a wire, his cunt clenching around Jungkook’s fingers with every rough thrust. His forehead pressed against Jungkook’s shoulder, his breath coming in wet, ragged gasps that fogged the cold metal of the lamppost behind him. Jungkook’s free hand gripped his throat, not squeezing, just holding, just feeling the way Taehyung’s pulse fluttered like a trapped bird beneath his fingers. 

"Look at me," Jungkook demanded, his voice rough. Taehyung shook his head, his teeth sinking into his own bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Jungkook’s fingers twisted deeper, curling just right, and Taehyung’s vision whited out as his hips jerked forward helplessly. "Look at me," Jungkook repeated, and this time, Taehyung obeyed. 

Jungkook’s eyes were black in the dim light, his pupils blown wide. Taehyung could see himself reflected in them; lips parted, cheeks flushed, tears streaking his face. Pathetic. Ruined. Jungkook’s thumb brushed over his clit, slow and deliberate, and Taehyung’s thighs trembled violently. "You’re gonna come," Jungkook murmured, his voice dropping to something low and intimate. "Right here. Against this lamppost. Like a fucking animal." 

Taehyung whimpered, his nails scraping uselessly against Jungkook’s shoulders. His body was coiled tight, pleasure and shame twisting together low in his gut until he couldn’t tell them apart. Jungkook’s fingers fucked into him harder, his thumb circling Taehyung’s clit with bruising pressure. "Say it," Jungkook growled. 

Taehyung shook his head again, but his hips were already moving, already chasing the friction. Jungkook’s grip on his throat tightened fractionally. "Say it, or I stop." 

The sob tore from Taehyung’s throat before he could stop it. "I’m gonna come," he gasped, the words sticky with tears. 

Jungkook’s grin was feral. "Good boy." 

The orgasm ripped through Taehyung like a live wire, his back arching off the lamppost as his cunt fluttered around Jungkook’s fingers. Jungkook didn’t let up; just kept fucking him through it, his fingers relentless even as Taehyung’s legs gave out. Jungkook caught him easily, hauling him upright with a hand fisted in his hoodie. Taehyung’s head lolled forward, his breath coming in shallow pants. 

Jungkook pulled his fingers free, slow and deliberate, and held them up to Taehyung’s face. They glistened in the streetlight, slick with Taehyung’s arousal. "Taste," he ordered. 

Taehyung recoiled, but Jungkook’s grip on his chin was iron. "No" 

Jungkook’s fingers pressed against his lips, smearing wetness across them. Taehyung gagged, but Jungkook didn’t relent. "Open." 

Taehyung’s lips parted on a whimper, and Jungkook pushed his fingers inside, pressing down on Taehyung’s tongue. The taste was bitter, salty and all traces of himself that made him feel embarrassed, ashamed of what he had become.

Taehyung’s stomach twisted, but his tongue moved instinctively, licking his own mess from Jungkook’s skin. Jungkook watched him with dark, satisfied eyes, his thumb brushing Taehyung’s bottom lip. "See?" he murmured. "You like it." 

Taehyung's knees hit the pavement, the impact jarring up his thighs as he gasped around Jungkook's fingers still pressed deep into his mouth. His throat worked convulsively, tears spilling hot down his cheeks as Jungkook dragged his digits slowly back out, leaving Taehyung's lips glistening and swollen. The street was too empty, the night too quiet; someone could see, someone would see, but Jungkook didn't seem to care, his gaze fixed on Taehyung with something between amusement and hunger.  

"Stand up," Jungkook murmured, catching Taehyung's chin between his thumb and forefinger. Taehyung's legs shook as he obeyed, his muscles liquid and uncooperative. Jungkook didn't help him, just watched with half-lidded eyes as Taehyung staggered, catching himself against the lamppost. His hoodie had ridden up, exposing the darkening bruises along his ribs, the damp patch where Jungkook's fingers had soaked through his sweatpants.  

Jungkook stepped closer, crowding him back against the metal pole, and Taehyung didn't have the strength to resist when Jungkook's hands shoved his pants down past his hips. The cold air licked at his overheated skin, raising goosebumps along his thighs. Jungkook's palm smoothed over the curve of his ass, fingers digging in possessively before he spat into his hand, the sound obscenely loud in the stillness. 

Taehyung flinched, his breath stuttering as Jungkook gripped himself, stroking lazily before pressing the fat blunt head of his cock against Taehyung's cunt.  He rubs it along the wet slit of Taehyung's cunt, lathering it with his slick and his own precum and Taehyung tries to push him away.

"No" Taehyung choked out, but Jungkook ignored him, pushing inside with one brutal thrust. Taehyung's scream fractured into a ragged moan, his fingers scrambling against the lamppost for purchase as Jungkook bottomed out. He was still oversensitive from before, his cunt clenching tight around Jungkook's length, the stretch bordering on pain.  

Jungkook groaned, barely giving Taehyung enough time to adjust to his size before his hips snapping forward, setting a punishing pace from the start. His hands gripped Taehyung's waist hard enough to leave fresh bruises, his breath hot against the nape of Taehyung's neck. "Fuck," Jungkook hissed, his thrusts turning erratic, "you're still so fucking tight."  

Taehyung's vision blurred, his body arching helplessly into each movement. He hated this; hated how good it felt, hated the way his cunt pulsed around Jungkook's cock like it was trying to pull him deeper even if he really didn't want this.  His nails scraped against the metal behind him, his breath coming in wet, uneven gasps. Jungkook's hand slid around his throat, not choking, just holding,  just reminding Taehyung who was in control.  

"Tell me you want it," Jungkook growled, his lips brushing Taehyung's ear.  

Taehyung shook his head, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to taste copper. Jungkook's hips stuttered, his fingers tightening fractionally around Taehyung's throat. "Tell me."  

Taehyung sobbed, his body trembling violently as another orgasm coiled low in his gut. "I want it," he gasped, the words ripped from him like a confession.  

Jungkook's groan was ragged, his thrusts turning sharper, deeper. "Yeah," he breathed, "yeah, you do." His fingers pressed into the bruises on Taehyung's hips, his pace turning relentless as he chased his own release. Taehyung's cunt fluttered around him, his body tightening instinctively, and Jungkook cursed, his rhythm faltering.  

He came with Taehyung's name bitten into his shoulder, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled inside him. For a moment, neither of them moved; Jungkook pressed flush against Taehyung's back, his breath hot on Taehyung's skin, Taehyung's legs shaking too badly to hold himself up without Jungkook's grip keeping him upright.  

Then Jungkook pulled out, the sudden emptiness making Taehyung whimper. He didn't turn around, didn't trust his legs to hold him if he tried. Behind him, Jungkook tucked himself back into his pants with a satisfied sigh, his fingers brushing Taehyung's hip as he stepped back.  

"Next time," Jungkook murmured, his voice thick with amusement, "wear something easier to take off."  

Taehyung didn't answer. Couldn't. His breath hitched as Jungkook's footsteps receded, the sound fading into the night. He stayed there for a long moment, his forehead pressed against the cold metal of the lamppost, his body aching, his cunt still pulsing with the aftershocks of Jungkook's rough use. His sweatpants were crumpled around his ankles, his hoodie clinging damply to his back. 

Slowly, painfully, he tugged his clothes back up, his fingers trembling too badly to fasten the drawstring properly. His thighs were sticky, his underwear ruined; he'd have to walk back like this, with Jungkook's come leaking down his legs, the evidence of what they had done smeared across his skin. 

The apartment building loomed ahead, its windows dark save for the occasional flicker of blue light from a television. Taehyung's legs shook as he climbed the steps, each movement sending fresh twinges through his abused body. The elevator ride up was endless, the mirrored walls reflecting his wrecked appearance back at him, his lips swollen, his eyes red-rimmed, his neck littered with fresh marks. 

His roommate was asleep when he crept inside, the apartment silent save for the hum of the refrigerator. Taehyung locked himself in the bathroom, peeling off his clothes with mechanical motions. The shower was too hot, the water scalding his skin, but he didn't turn it down. He scrubbed until his skin was raw, until he couldn't smell Jungkook on himself anymore, but the memory of his touch lingered, seared into his flesh like a brand.

His phone buzzed from the counter. Taehyung ignored it, his fingers tightening around the edge of the sink as he stared at his reflection. The person looking back at him was unrecognizable; his pupils blown wide, his cheeks flushed, his lips bitten raw. 

Another buzz. Then another. 

Taehyung exhaled sharply and reached for the phone. 

"Miss me already?"

The words blurred as Taehyung's vision swam. His thumb hovered over the screen, his heart hammering against his ribs. 

"You forgot something."

A photo followed; Taehyung's ruined underwear, dangling from Jungkook's fingers, soaked through and glistening under the streetlight. 

Taehyung's stomach twisted. He dropped the phone like it had burned him, his breath coming in shallow gasps. 

It buzzed again. 

"Come get them."

"Or don't."

"I'll keep them." 

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, his nails biting into his palms. He knew what Jungkook wanted. Knew what he was asking. 

His phone buzzed a final time. 

"You know where to find me."

Taehyung's reflection stared back at him, his lips parted around a silent plea. 

He knew. 

He'd always known.

Taehyung’s fingers hovered over the screen, trembling. The photo burned into his retinas; his underwear, stretched between Jungkook’s fingers, the green fabric darkened with sweat and slick. His thumb twitched toward the reply field, then away. The bathroom tiles were cold beneath his bare feet, the shower still running behind him, steam curling around his ankles like a ghost.  

His phone buzzed again.  

"Waiting."

Taehyung swallowed. His throat felt raw. He shouldn’t answer. Shouldn’t move. But his body remembered the weight of Jungkook’s hands, the way his teeth had scraped over his pulse point. His cunt clenched, empty and aching.  

The reply was sent before he could stop himself.  

"Where?" 

Jungkook’s response was immediate.  

"You know."

Taehyung did. The alley behind the club, where the streetlights flickered and the music bled through the walls in distorted pulses. Where no one would hear him scream.  

He dressed mechanically, pulling on loose sweats and a hoodie too big for him, the fabric swallowing his frame. His fingers hesitated over the door handle, his breath shallow. His roommate’s soft snores drifted from the other side of the apartment. He could still turn back. He could still lock himself in his room and pretend tonight hadn’t happened.  

His phone buzzed.  

"Tick tock."

Taehyung’s stomach twisted. He stepped out into the night.  

The walk was a blur; sidewalks tilting under his feet, neon signs bleeding into smears of color. The club loomed ahead, bass vibrating through the pavement. Taehyung’s pulse thundered in his ears as he turned the corner, the alley stretching before him, shadowed and suffocating.  

Jungkook leaned against the brick wall, one knee bent, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. He exhaled smoke as Taehyung approached, his eyes tracking every hesitant step. "Took you long enough," he murmured, flicking ash onto the pavement.  

Taehyung’s tongue felt too thick. "Give them back."  

Jungkook’s lips curled. He reached into his pocket, pulling out the crumpled underwear, the fabric dangling from his fingertips. "Come get them."  

Taehyung didn’t move. His legs shook.  

Jungkook sighed, pushing off the wall. In three strides, he was crowding Taehyung back against the bricks, his free hand fisting in the hoodie. "You don’t ask," he murmured, his breath hot against Taehyung’s lips. "You take."  

His mouth crashed down, biting at Taehyung’s lower lip until he gasped. Jungkook licked into his mouth, tasting him like he owned him. Taehyung’s hands fluttered uselessly at his sides before curling into fists.  

Jungkook pulled back, his grip tightening. "Say thank you."  

Taehyung’s breath hitched. "Thank you."  

Jungkook smirked. He shoved the underwear into Taehyung’s pocket, his fingers lingering too long, brushing the sensitive skin of his thigh. "Good boy."  

Taehyung shuddered.  

Jungkook stepped back, lighting another cigarette. His gaze raked over Taehyung, slow and assessing. "You’re gonna come back tomorrow," he said, like it was a fact.  

Taehyung shook his head.  

Jungkook laughed, exhaling smoke. "Yeah," he murmured. "You are."  

He turned, walking away without another glance.  

Taehyung stayed pressed against the wall, his fingers digging into the brick. His phone buzzed in his pocket.  

"Midnight. Don’t be late." 

Taehyung closed his eyes.  

He’d be there.  

He always was.

—★

The alley smelled like piss and spilled liquor, the sticky heat of the club’s exhaust vents pressing against Taehyung’s back as Jungkook shoved him deeper into the shadows. His hoodie was wrenched up over his head, blinding him, the fabric trapping his arms uselessly against his ears. Jungkook’s knee forced his thighs apart, the rough brick scraping his bare ass; he hadn’t even bothered to let Taehyung undress fully this time. Just ripped the seam of his sweats wide enough to push his cock inside, the stretch brutal, unforgiving.  

“You knew,” Jungkook growled, his teeth sharp against Taehyung’s shoulder. “Knew I’d fuck you raw against this wall the second you showed up.” He punctuated the words with a thrust so hard Taehyung’s skull cracked against the brick. Stars burst behind his eyes, his cunt clenching reflexively around Jungkook’s cock, the wet sound of it obscene in the narrow space.  

Taehyung’s moan was muffled by the hoodie, his body arching against his will. Jungkook’s fingers dug into his hips, yanking him back onto each thrust, the friction bordering on pain. “Say it,” Jungkook demanded, his breath hot through the fabric. “Say you came here for this.”  

Taehyung shook his head, the motion frantic, but his thighs trembled, his cunt pulsing around Jungkook’s length. Jungkook laughed, low and mean, and wrapped a hand around Taehyung’s throat through the hoodie, squeezing just enough to make his lungs burn. “Liar.” His hips snapped forward, his cock grinding deep, and Taehyung sobbed, his knees buckling. Jungkook held him up effortlessly, fucking into him with bruising force, the slap of skin echoing off the walls.  

Jungkook ripped the hoodie off suddenly, the cold air biting Taehyung’s sweat-slick skin. He blinked up at Jungkook’s face, his vision blurred with tears, his lips parted around ragged gasps. Jungkook’s expression was feral, his pupils blown, his lips curled in a sneer. “Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his thumb over Taehyung’s bottom lip, smearing spit and blood. “Pathetic.”  

He pulled out abruptly, ignoring Taehyung’s whimper, and spun him around to face the wall. “Hands on the brick,” he ordered, his voice thick with arousal. Taehyung obeyed, his palms flattening against the rough surface, his body trembling. Jungkook spat into his hand, slicked himself roughly, and shoved back in with a groan, his chest pressed flush against Taehyung’s back.  

This angle was deeper, worse; Jungkook’s cock dragging against his walls with every thrust, the head bumping against his g-spot in a way that made his stomach clench. Taehyung’s fingers scrabbled against the brick, his breath coming in shallow pants. Jungkook’s hand slid around his waist, down to his clit, rubbing tight, rapid circles. “Gonna come again,” Jungkook muttered, his teeth scraping Taehyung’s earlobe. “Gonna fucking cream on my cock.”  

Taehyung shook his head, his thighs quivering, but his body betrayed him, his cunt fluttering around Jungkook’s length. “No… no!”  

Jungkook’s laugh was dark. “Too late.”  

The orgasm ripped through him violently, his vision whiting out, his cunt clamping down on Jungkook’s cock like a vice. Jungkook cursed, his rhythm stuttering, his fingers digging bruises into Taehyung’s hips as he chased his own release. He came with a groan, his teeth sinking into Taehyung’s shoulder, his hips jerking erratically as he spilled inside him.  

Taehyung slumped forward, his forehead pressed against the brick, his body limp. Jungkook pulled out slowly, the sound wet, filthy, and Taehyung shuddered, feeling the mixture of their come roll down his thighs. Jungkook stepped back, tucking himself away, his breathing uneven.  

“Clean yourself up,” he said, his voice rough.  

Taehyung didn’t move. Couldn’t.  

Jungkook grabbed his wrist, yanking him around to face him. His other hand cupped Taehyung’s cunt, fingers smearing the mess between his legs, then pressed them against Taehyung’s lips. “Clean,” he repeated, pushing his fingers inside Taehyung’s mouth, his own come, bitter on Taehyung’s tongue. Taehyung gagged, but Jungkook held his jaw shut, forcing him to swallow. “That’s mine,” Jungkook murmured, his thumb stroking Taehyung’s bottom lip. “You don’t waste it.”

He stepped back, leaving Taehyung swaying, his legs shaking too badly to stand properly. Jungkook smirked, pulling his phone from his pocket. The flash blinded Taehyung for a second; another picture, another piece of him stolen. 

“Look at you,” Jungkook mused, tilting the screen toward him. Taehyung’s stomach lurched. His thighs glistened under the dim light, his sweats ripped open, his cock still half-hard despite everything. 

“You’re fucking ruined.”

Taehyung turned away, his cheeks burning, but Jungkook grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze back. “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you?” His thumb pressed against Taehyung’s lip again, possessive. “Say it.”

Taehyung’s breath hitched. He didn’t want to. Couldn’t. But Jungkook’s grip tightened, his eyes darkening, and Taehyung knew; knew he’d break him one way or another. 

“*Say it.*”

“…I like it.” The words were barely a whisper, but Jungkook grinned like he’d won something.

“Louder.”

Taehyung swallowed. “I-I like being your fucktoy.” 

Jungkook’s fingers dug into his hips, pulling him flush against him. Taehyung could feel him hardening again through his pants, the thick press of him against his thigh. “Good,” Jungkook breathed, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear. “Because we’re not done.”

He pushed Taehyung to his knees, the pavement biting into his skin. Taehyung didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Jungkook unzipped his pants, his cock already slick at the tip, and Taehyung’s mouth watered traitorously. 

“Open,” Jungkook ordered, nudging Taehyung’s lips with the head. Taehyung obeyed, his tongue darting out instinctively, lapping at the bitter precome. Jungkook groaned, his fingers tangling in Taehyung’s hair, and thrust forward without warning, gagging him on the first shove. Taehyung choked, tears pricking his eyes as Jungkook bottomed out, his nose pressed against Jungkook’s pelvis. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook hissed, pulling back just enough to let Taehyung gasp before slamming back in. 

“You take it so fucking good.” 

His hips jerked erratically, fucking Taehyung’s throat with no rhythm, no care; just pure ownership. Taehyung’s fingers clawed at Jungkook’s thighs, his vision blurring, drool dripping down his chin. 

Jungkook pulled out suddenly, his cock glistening with spit, and dragged Taehyung up by the hair. “Turn around,” he growled, shoving him against the wall again. Taehyung’s cheek scraped the brick, his breath coming in ragged pants. Jungkook’s fingers slid between his legs, rubbing his oversensitive clit roughly. “Still wet,” he murmured, sounding pleased. “Pathetic.”

He spat into his hand again, slicking himself, and shoved back inside with a groan. Taehyung cried out, his body arching, betraying him, as Jungkook’s cock dragged against his walls. 

“You’re gonna come again,” Jungkook muttered, his teeth scraping Taehyung’s shoulder. “Gonna fucking drip on my cock like the little slut you are.”

Taehyung shook his head, but his body wasn’t his own anymore. The orgasm hit him like a punch, his cunt clamping down around Jungkook’s cock violently. Jungkook cursed, his thrusts turning erratic, and came with Taehyung’s name bitten into his skin. 

He pulled out slowly, watching Taehyung slump against the wall, his thighs trembling. “You’re mine,” Jungkook murmured, tucking himself away. “Don’t forget it.” 

Taehyung didn’t answer. Couldn’t. 

Jungkook smirked, stepping back. “Midnight tomorrow,” he said, like it was inevitable. 

And Taehyung knew, he’d be there. 

He always was.

The words echoed in Taehyung’s skull as he limped home, his sweats clinging to the drying mess between his thighs. The streets blurred, neon signs smearing into watercolor streaks. His phone buzzed, again, then again but he didn’t check it. He already knew. Knew what Jungkook would say. Knew what he’d demand next.  

His apartment door clicked shut behind him, the silence suffocating. Taehyung peeled off his ruined clothes, letting them pool at his feet. The mirror showed the damage: bite marks purpling his shoulders, fingerprints darkening his hips, his cunt swollen and glistening. He pressed a trembling hand between his legs, traitor, and gasped at the oversensitive ache.  

His phone lit up. A video this time. Jungkook must have filmed it when he’d bent Taehyung over the alley dumpster after, when his legs had given out and he’d sobbed into his own arms. The preview frame showed his own face, tear-streaked and fucked-out, Jungkook’s fingers twisting in his hair. Taehyung’s thumb hovered.  

He pressed play.  

Jungkook’s voice, low and mocking: "Look at you. Can’t even stand." The camera panned down, Taehyung’s thighs spread wide, his cunt gaping, Jungkook’s come dripping onto the pavement. A whimper escaped Taehyung’s lips as he watched Jungkook’s fingers push back inside, scooping up the mess and smearing it over Taehyung’s clit. "You’ll taste yourself tomorrow," Jungkook promised, the audio crackling with his smirk.  

Taehyung’s stomach lurched. His fingers dug into his thighs, nails leaving crescent moons. The video ended. A new message popped up:  

"Your turn." 

Taehyung’s breath hitched. His body moved without permission, his fingers sliding through his own slick, tracing the stretch marks Jungkook had left. "No," he whispered, but his hips rocked forward, his clit pulsing under his touch. 

The phone buzzed again, "Now."

and Taehyung’s fingers plunged inside, his gasp echoing off the tiles.  

It hurt. Good. He fucked himself roughly, imagining Jungkook’s grip on his hips, his teeth on his neck. His phone lit up with another message: "Slower. Make it last." Taehyung whimpered but obeyed, dragging his fingers out until just the tips remained, then shoving back in. His thighs trembled.  

"Tell me," Jungkook demanded.  

Taehyung’s voice cracked. "I-I’m fucking myself"  

"Why?" 

"B-because you told me to."  

A pause. Then: "Again. Louder."

Taehyung’s eyes squeezed shut. "Because you told me to!" His voice broke on the last word, his fingers curling just right, and his orgasm ripped through him like a punishment. He slumped against the counter, his breath ragged, come dripping down his wrist.  

His phone buzzed one final time.  

"Tomorrow, I won’t ask."

Taehyung’s reflection stared back at him; lips bitten raw, pupils blown. He knew what that meant. Knew Jungkook would take what he wanted without warning, without mercy.  

His cunt clenched, empty.  

He’d be ready.  

Always.

—★

The mattress dipped under Jungkook’s weight before Taehyung even registered the bedroom door opening. A hand clamped over his mouth, cutting off his startled gasp, calloused fingers smelling of nicotine and the metallic bite of blood. "Miss me?" Jungkook’s breath was hot against his ear, his knee already forcing Taehyung’s thighs apart. The sheets tangled around Taehyung’s ankles as he jerked instinctively, but Jungkook’s grip was iron, his body a furnace pinning him down. 

Taehyung’s nails scrabbled at Jungkook’s wrist, his muffled whimper lost in the humid dark. Jungkook laughed, low and rough, his free hand sliding under Taehyung’s sleep shirt to pinch a nipple hard enough to bruise. "You knew I’d come," he murmured, his teeth scraping Taehyung’s pulse point. "Left your fucking window unlocked like a slut begging for it." His hips ground down, the thick outline of his cock pressing against Taehyung’s cunt through thin pajama pants. Taehyung’s back arched involuntarily, his body betraying him with a rush of wetness. Jungkook groaned, biting down on his shoulder. "Fuck,  you’re already dripping."

The hand on Taehyung’s mouth shifted, fingers hooking into the corner of his lips, stretching them obscenely. Jungkook spat into his mouth, the warmth of it pooling on Taehyung’s tongue before his chin was jerked up, forcing him to swallow. "Taste that?" Jungkook panted, tearing the pajama pants down to Taehyung’s knees. "That’s what you are. My fucking spit receptacle." 

Taehyung’s thighs trembled as Jungkook’s fingers plunged into him without warning, the stretch burning. He thrashed, a sob tearing loose, but Jungkook twisted his fingers cruelly, curling them just there…Taehyung’s vision whited out, his cunt clenching around the intrusion. "Pathetic," Jungkook growled, scissoring his fingers apart, the wet sound loud in the quiet room. "You’d come on my fingers if I let you, huh? Just desperate for it." 

He withdrew abruptly, flipping Taehyung onto his stomach. The pillowcase bunched in Taehyung’s fists as Jungkook yanked his hips up, the head of his cock dragging through slick folds before slamming home in one brutal thrust. Taehyung’s scream was muffled by the mattress, his spine bowing under Jungkook's broad body. Jungkook didn’t pause, didn’t give him time to adjust, just fucked into him with punishing strokes, his balls slapping against Taehyung’s clit with every snap of his hips. 

"Look at you," Jungkook panted, fisting Taehyung’s hair to wrench his head back. The mirror across the room reflected his tear-streaked face, his mouth hanging open around silent pleas. "Look at how fucking ruined you are." He punctuated the words with a thrust so deep Taehyung’s stomach bulged slightly, the outline of Jungkook’s cock visible beneath his skin. 

Taehyung’s orgasm crashed over him like a seizure, his cunt milking Jungkook’s cock in violent pulses. Jungkook cursed, his rhythm faltering, and came with Taehyung’s name snarled into the sweat-slick nape of his neck. He didn’t pull out, just ground his hips in slow circles, working his spend deeper as Taehyung shuddered through the oversensitivity. 

Rolling them onto their sides, Jungkook kept Taehyung impaled, his arm a vise around Taehyung’s ribs. "Gonna keep you like this all night," he murmured, licking a stripe up Taehyung’s throat. "My cock stuffed in your used-up cunt so you don’t forget who owns you." His fingers dug into Taehyung’s thigh, hiking it higher, and Taehyung whimpered as Jungkook’s softening length twitched inside him. 

Outside, a car alarm wailed distantly. Jungkook nuzzled the shell of Taehyung’s ear, his voice slurred with exhaustion but still sharp with promise: "Sleep. I’ll fuck you awake at dawn." 

Taehyung’s breath hitched. His body ached, his cunt stretched sore around Jungkook’s cock, but his traitorous pulse fluttered when Jungkook’s arm tightened possessively. 

He closed his eyes. 

And waited.

Taehyung’s breath came in shallow hitches as Jungkook’s fingers dug into his ribs, nails carving crescent moons into his skin. The weight of Jungkook’s body pressed him deeper into the mattress, the scent of sex and sweat thick in the air. Jungkook’s lips traced the shell of his ear, whispering filth that made Taehyung’s stomach twist. "Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll taste me for days," he murmured, his teeth catching Taehyung’s earlobe. Taehyung shuddered, his body tensing as Jungkook’s cock twitched inside him, still half-hard. 

The first light of dawn crept through the blinds, painting Jungkook’s silhouette in gold and shadow. Taehyung’s wrists were pinned above his head, Jungkook’s grip unrelenting. He didn’t fight it. Couldn’t. His body was pliant, molded to Jungkook’s will like clay. Jungkook’s hips rolled lazily, his cock dragging against Taehyung’s oversensitive walls, drawing a broken whimper from his lips. "You’re so fucking tight," Jungkook groaned, his breath hot against Taehyung’s neck. "Like you were made for me."

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, but Jungkook’s hand clamped around his throat, forcing his gaze up. "Look at me," he demanded, his thumb pressing into Taehyung’s pulse point. Taehyung’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Jungkook’s darkened gaze. The smirk on Jungkook’s lips was cruel, victorious. "You love this," he whispered, his hips snapping forward sharply. Taehyung’s back arched, a sob tearing loose as Jungkook’s cock hit that spot inside him, sending sparks of pleasure-pain up his spine. 

Jungkook’s fingers trailed down Taehyung’s chest, pinching his nipples roughly before sliding lower, tracing the outline of his own cock stretching Taehyung open. "Fuck," he breathed, pressing down hard, making Taehyung feel every inch of him. 

"You’re fucking ruined." 

Taehyung’s cunt clenched involuntarily, his body betraying him yet again. Jungkook laughed, low and dark. "That’s right. Squeeze me like the greedy little slut you are."

The pace was merciless now, Jungkook’s hips pistoning into him with bruising force. Taehyung’s thighs trembled, his toes curling into the sheets as pleasure coiled tight in his gut. Jungkook’s hand wrapped around his throat again, cutting off his air just as his orgasm crested. Taehyung’s vision whited out, his body convulsing around Jungkook’s cock, his scream silent under Jungkook’s grip. 

Jungkook fucked him through it, his rhythm unrelenting even as Taehyung’s body went limp beneath him. "Not done yet," he growled, flipping Taehyung onto his stomach, yanking his hips up. The new angle was deeper, more brutal, Jungkook’s cock hitting places that made Taehyung see stars. His fingers twisted in the sheets, his forehead pressed into the mattress as Jungkook’s hands gripped his waist, pulling him back onto his cock with every thrust. 

"Say it," Jungkook demanded, his voice rough with exertion. "Say you’re mine." 

Taehyung’s lips trembled, his voice raw from screaming. "I-I’m yours," he choked out, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. 

Jungkook’s grip tightened, his hips stuttering as he came with a groan, his teeth sinking into Taehyung’s shoulder. Taehyung whimpered as Jungkook’s come flooded him, hot and thick, marking him from the inside. 

Pulling out slowly, Jungkook admired his handiwork, Taehyung’s cunt gaping, his come dripping onto the sheets. He swiped a finger through their mess, pressing it to Taehyung’s lips. "Clean it up," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for refusal. Taehyung’s tongue darted out obediently, licking Jungkook’s fingers clean, the taste bitter and familiar. 

Jungkook smirked, stroking Taehyung’s cheek almost tenderly. "Good boy," he murmured, before climbing off the bed. Taehyung watched him dress through half-lidded eyes, his body aching, his mind numb. 

Jungkook paused at the door, glancing back. "Midnight," he said, as if it were a promise. Taehyung curled into himself, the sheets sticking to his damp thighs. He heard the lock click, the soft thud of boots retreating down the hallway. The ceiling spun when he blinked. 

His phone buzzed; once, twice, but he didn’t reach for it. He already knew. The silence stretched, broken only by the wet sound of Jungkook’s come seeping out of him when he shifted. 

Outside, a car engine roared to life. 

Taehyung’s fingers twitched toward his cunt. 

He shouldn’t. 

His middle finger slid in anyway, knuckle-deep, the stretch negligible compared to Jungkook’s cock. It was warm inside, oversensitive, his walls fluttering weakly around his own touch. His thumb found his clit, pressing just enough to sting. 

His phone buzzed again. 

A video call. 

Taehyung’s breath hitched. His finger stilled. 

He answered. 

Jungkook’s face filled the screen, the dashboard lights casting sharp shadows across his cheekbones. "Knew you’d pick up," he murmured, his grin all teeth. The camera tilted down, Jungkook’s free hand palming himself through his jeans, the outline of his cock thick and obvious. "Show me." 

Taehyung’s throat clicked when he swallowed. His finger withdrew, slick and glistening. 

"Do it properly," Jungkook ordered, his voice rough. "Both hands." 

Taehyung’s legs fell open. His left hand dipped between his thighs, two fingers pushing into his cunt with barely a stretch. His right hand circled his clit, the pressure bruising. 

"Slower," Jungkook growled, his own zipper rasping open. The camera jostled, the headlights of passing cars streaking across his torso. "Make it last." 

Taehyung obeyed, dragging his fingers out until just the tips remained, then sinking back in. His clit pulsed under his touch, the pleasure sharp and bright. 

Jungkook’s breath stuttered on screen. His fist moved lazily over his cock, his thumb smearing precum over the head. "Tell me," he demanded. 

Taehyung’s voice cracked. "I-I’m fucking myself" 

"Why?" 

"Because I love being your slut" 

Jungkook groaned, his grip tightening. "Again. Louder." 

Taehyung’s fingers curled inside himself, his hips jerking forward. "Because I love being  your slut!" The orgasm ripped through him violently, his cunt clamping down around his fingers like a vice. His back arched off the bed, his thighs trembling. 

Jungkook came with a snarl, his release striping his stomach. The camera caught every twitch of his abdomen, every pulse of his cock. He panted into the silence, his gaze heavy on the screen, wiping his hand on his jeans then the call ended. 

Taehyung’s fingers slipped out of his cunt, dripping. His phone clattered to the floor. 

The sheets were cold where Jungkook had lain. 

Taehyung pressed his face into the pillow; inhaled the scent of sex and sweat and him, and bit down hard enough to taste blood. 

His phone buzzed again. 

"Look outside."

Taehyung’s breath fogged the window pane when he peered through the blinds. 

Jungkook leaned against his car, phone in hand, staring up at the building. 

Waiting. 

Smiling. 

Taehyung’s cunt throbbed. 

He turned away. 

But his fingers were already reaching for his keys.

The keys jingled in Taehyung’s shaking hand like a taunt. He hadn't decided to grab them, his body had moved on its own, muscles remembering the path to the door before his mind could protest. The knob turned too easily, door-hinges silent as if oiled for this exact moment. Cold air rushed in, carrying the scent of Jungkook’s cigarettes and something darker, metallic. Blood, maybe. Taehyung’s bare feet hit the concrete landing, each step sending jagged pain up his shins. He didn’t look down to see if he was bleeding.

Jungkook straightened when the exit door creaked open. His teeth flashed in the dim streetlight, a predator spotting wounded prey. "Took you long enough," he mused, crushing his cigarette underfoot. The ember hissed against wet pavement. Taehyung’s throat closed when Jungkook stepped closer, close enough for him to see the fresh scratches raked down his neck. Deep. Angry. Like someone had fought back hard.

A hand fisted in Taehyung’s hoodie, hauling him forward until their chests collided. Jungkook’s breath smelled like whiskey and mint. "You left marks last time," he murmured, dragging Taehyung’s fingers to the broken skin on his throat. "Gonna return the favor?" His grip tightened, forcing Taehyung’s nails to dig in. Warmth welled under his fingertips. Jungkook groaned, hips jerking forward to grind his already-hard cock against Taehyung’s thigh. "Fuck, yes"

Taehyung’s back hit the brick wall beside the stairwell. Jungkook’s knee wedged between his legs, hiking up the hem of his hoodie to expose the bruises purpling his stomach. A tongue laved over one, rough and wet. "Pretty," Jungkook crooned, biting down until Taehyung gasped. His hands were everywhere, wrenching Taehyung’s sweatpants down to his knees, spitting into his palm before shoving three fingers into his cunt without warning. Taehyung’s scream echoed off the alley walls, his nails scraping brick as Jungkook scissored him open ruthlessly. "Still loose from last night," Jungkook observed, curling his fingers cruelly. "Bet you fingered yourself thinking about me. Bet you came."

The denial died in Taehyung’s throat when Jungkook’s thumb found his clit, rubbing tight circles that sent white-hot sparks up his spine. His hips jerked involuntarily, fucking himself on Jungkook’s hand. "Pathetic," Jungkook breathed, watching Taehyung’s face twist with pleasure. "Gonna come already? Just from my fingers?" He slowed his movements, drawing out each thrust until Taehyung whimpered. "No. You don’t get to come yet.”

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook pressed them to Taehyung’s lips. "Suck." Taehyung’s tongue darted out obediently, tasting himself, salt and musk and the iron tang of Jungkook’s split knuckles. The moan that tore loose was humiliatingly genuine. Jungkook’s pupils dilated. "Good boy," he purred, unbuckling his belt with his free hand.

The head of his cock smeared precum against Taehyung’s thigh before he lined up, notching at his entrance. "Beg," Jungkook demanded, gripping Taehyung’s hair to wrench his head back.

Taehyung’s lips trembled. "Please"

Jungkook sheathed himself in one brutal thrust. Taehyung’s vision whited out, his cunt stretching obscenely around the intrusion. There was no prep, no easing in, just the burn of it, the way his body struggled to accommodate Jungkook’s girth yet at the same time, it was like his cunt was pulling him in even more even though it hurt.

"Tight little whore," Jungkook snarled, bottoming out with a groan. His hips snapped forward, setting a punishing pace that had Taehyung’s toes curling against the concrete. Each thrust punched the air from his lungs, his back scraping brick raw.

Jungkook’s mouth found his neck, sucking bruises over the ones he’d left before. His teeth sank in when Taehyung’s cunt fluttered around him, the threat clear: “Don’t you dare come.” Taehyung sobbed, his orgasm hovering just out of reach as Jungkook fucked him mercilessly.

"Look at you," Jungkook panted, pulling out abruptly to flip Taehyung onto his hands and knees. The pavement bit into his palms, gravel embedding in his skin. Jungkook's foot hooked under Taehyung's thigh, forcing his legs wider before slamming back in with a wet slap that echoed off the alley walls. Taehyung's scream cracked; half pain, half pleasure, as Jungkook's cock carved him open, the stretch bordering on unbearable. "Taking me so fucking well," Jungkook growled, one hand fisting Taehyung's hair to yank his head back while the other reached around to claw at his clit. "Gonna ruin you for anyone else."

Taehyung's cunt pulsed violently around the intrusion, his body betraying him as slickness dripped down his thighs. Jungkook laughed, low and dark, twisting his fingers cruelly against Taehyung's clit. "You love this," he taunted, hips pistoning faster, the slap of skin-on-skin drowning out Taehyung's choked sobs. "Your body knows what it's for." His thumb pressed down harder, rubbing tight circles that sent sparks of white-hot pleasure up Taehyung's spine despite himself. 

The orgasm ripped through him without warning; Taehyung's back arching, his cunt clamping down like a vice as he came with a broken wail. Jungkook didn't stop, didn't slow, just fucked him through the oversensitivity until Taehyung's vision blurred at the edges. "Again," Jungkook demanded, sinking his teeth into the nape of Taehyung's neck. His free hand snaked around Taehyung's throat, squeezing just enough to make spots dance behind his eyelids. "I said again." 

Taehyung's body obeyed helplessly, another climax tearing through him as Jungkook's cock hit that spot inside him relentlessly. His thighs trembled violently, his nails scraping against concrete as Jungkook chased his own release. "Gonna fill you up and breed you. You want that? I know you do," Jungkook groaned, his rhythm faltering as he bottomed out one last time, his cock twitching deep inside Taehyung's cunt. Taehyung whimpered at the hot flood of come, his oversensitive walls fluttering weakly around the intrusion. 

Jungkook didn't pull out, just ground his hips in slow circles, working his come deeper as Taehyung shuddered beneath him. His grip on Taehyung's hair loosened, fingers carding through the sweaty strands almost tenderly. "Good boy," he murmured, pressing a mocking kiss to Taehyung's shoulder before finally withdrawing. Taehyung collapsed onto his side, his cunt gaping, Jungkook's release dripping onto the pavement between his thighs. 

Jungkook tucked himself back into his jeans, watching Taehyung with dark eyes. "Midnight," he said again, like a promise, before turning to leave. Taehyung didn't move, didn't speak; just lay there, trembling, as Jungkook's footsteps faded into the night. The cold seeped into his bones, the ache between his legs a stark reminder of what he'd just allowed. 

His phone buzzed from where it had fallen in the scuffle. Taehyung reached for it blindly, his fingers shaking too badly to swipe the screen properly. The message was simple: "Next time, I won't be so gentle."

Taehyung's breath hitched. His cunt clenched, empty. 

He shouldn't want it. 

But his body remembered the way Jungkook's hands felt; the bruises, the bite marks, the stretch of his cock, and ached for more.

—★

Jungkook’s fingers dug into Taehyung’s bruised hips as he dragged him backward across the alley floor, gravel scraping raw lines into his thighs. Taehyung’s protests died in his throat when Jungkook flipped him onto his stomach with a brutal shove, knee pressing between his shoulder blades to pin him facedown against the cold concrete.

The air reeked of stale beer and piss, the dampness seeping into Taehyung’s hoodie as Jungkook’s weight settled over him. A hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back just as Jungkook’s cockhead prodded at his abused cunt, still stretched and slick from earlier. 

"No" Taehyung’s voice cracked, but Jungkook shoved in anyway, sheathing himself to the hilt with a single, merciless thrust. Taehyung’s scream ricocheted off the brick walls, his fingers scrambling for purchase on the wet pavement. Jungkook didn’t pause, just set a punishing pace, hips pistoning with a wet slap that drowned out Taehyung’s sobs. His teeth found the nape of Taehyung’s neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood as Taehyung’s body convulsed beneath him. 

"Feel that?" Jungkook snarled, grinding deeper, his pubic bone pressing viciously against Taehyung’s swollen clit. "Your cunt’s sucking me in like it’s fucking starving." Taehyung whimpered, his traitorous hips pushing back despite himself, his inner walls fluttering around Jungkook’s cock in involuntary pulses. Jungkook laughed; a dark, breathless sound, and wrapped his fingers around Taehyung’s throat, cutting off his air just as he angled his hips to hit that spot inside him. Taehyung’s vision whited out, his cunt clamping down in a violent spasm as he came untouched, his orgasm ripped from him with brutal efficiency. 

Jungkook didn’t let up. His grip tightened, his thrusts turned jagged and uneven as Taehyung’s body writhed beneath him. "Gonna cum inside you again," he growled, hips stuttering. "Gonna pump you so full it leaks out for days." Taehyung’s sob hitched when Jungkook bottomed out with a groan, his cock pulsing as he spilled hot and thick inside him.

The overstimulation was agony, Taehyung’s oversensitive cunt fluttering weakly around the intrusion, his thighs trembling as Jungkook worked him through it with short, grinding thrusts. 

Pulling out slowly, Jungkook admired his handiwork, Taehyung’s cunt gaping, his come dripping obscenely onto the concrete. He swiped two fingers through the mess, pressing them against Taehyung’s parted lips. "Clean it," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for refusal. Taehyung’s tongue darted out obediently, lapping at the bitter-salty taste of his own arousal mixed with Jungkook’s release. The humiliation burned hotter than the bruises littering his skin. 

Jungkook’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out with one hand while the other kept Taehyung pinned by the scruff of his neck. The screen illuminated his smirk. "Roommates wondering where you are," he mused, showing Taehyung the string of increasingly panicked texts. "Should I tell them?" His thumb hovered over the keyboard. Taehyung’s breath hitched, he shook his head frantically, eyes wide with dawning horror. Jungkook’s grin sharpened. "Then beg." 

Taehyung’s voice was raw. "Please" 

Jungkook’s fingers tightened in his hair. "Please, what?" 

"Please don’t tell them," Taehyung whispered, his cheeks burning with shame. 

Jungkook’s laugh was low, satisfied. He tucked his phone away and stood, adjusting his jeans with deliberate slowness. Taehyung remained on his knees, trembling, his thighs sticky with sweat and come. Jungkook crouched in front of him, tilting his chin up with two fingers. "Midnight tomorrow," he murmured, pressing a mocking kiss to Taehyung’s swollen lips. "Don’t be late." 

The alley spun when Taehyung blinked. By the time his vision cleared, Jungkook was gone, only the ache between his thighs and the throbbing bite marks on his neck remained as proof he’d ever been there at all. 

His phone buzzed against the concrete. 

“You forgot these."

Attached was a photo of his discarded underwear, soaked through and crusted with drying fluids, crumpled against the alley wall where Jungkook had shoved them after ripping them off. Taehyung's stomach lurched, his roommate would be home in twenty minutes. He grabbed the fabric with shaking hands, wincing as gravel bit into his bare knees. The material clung to his fingers, stiff in places where Jungkook’s come had dried into the lace. He stuffed them into his hoodie pocket just as his phone buzzed again.  

"Put them back on when you get home. I want to see."

Taehyung’s legs trembled as he stumbled to his feet. His cunt ached, oversensitive and leaking, thighs sticky with a mix of his own slick and Jungkook’s release. The walk to the elevator felt endless, every step dragging Jungkook’s come deeper between his thighs. He caught his reflection in the mirrored doors, hoodie askew, lips bitten raw, pupils blown wide with lingering adrenaline. His roommate would know. 

Everyone would know.  

The apartment was silent when he slipped inside. He locked himself in the bathroom, peeling off his hoodie with stiff fingers. His underwear clung to his palm when he pulled them from his pocket, the lace stretched beyond repair. Jungkook’s message flashed again:

 “Put. Them. On."

Taehyung’s breath hitched. He stepped into the ruined fabric, whimpering as the stiffened material rasped against his swollen cunt. The waistband dug into his hips where Jungkook had gripped him too hard. His phone buzzed; a video call request.  

Jungkook’s face filled the screen, his smirk lazy as he took in Taehyung’s disheveled state. "Touch yourself."  

Taehyung shook his head, but his fingers were already drifting downward, tracing the damp outline of his cunt through the lace. Jungkook’s gaze darkened. "Harder."  

His middle finger pressed in without warning, the fabric forcing friction against his oversensitive clit. Taehyung’s back arched, a broken moan escaping as his body betrayed him yet again.  

"Look at you," Jungkook murmured, adjusting his camera to show his own cock, already half-hard again. "Still dripping for me."  

Taehyung’s fingers moved faster, the lace chafing his swollen flesh raw. He was close, too close, when Jungkook’s voice cut through the haze. "Stop."  

Taehyung froze, his entire body trembling on the edge. Jungkook’s grin was vicious. "Hands on the sink. Now."  

The porcelain was cold under his palms. Jungkook’s command was sharper. "Spread."  

Taehyung’s cheeks burned as he obeyed, presenting himself to the camera, the ruined underwear stretched tight between his thighs. Jungkook’s breath hitched. "Fuck. Look at you." His fingers tightened around his cock, stroking in time with Taehyung’s ragged breathing. "Beg."  

Taehyung’s throat worked. "Please"  

"Please what?"  

"Let me" His voice cracked. "Let me come."  

Jungkook’s groan was filthy. "Do it."  

Taehyung’s fingers plunged beneath the lace, rubbing furious circles until his vision whited out. He came with a sob, thighs clamping around his hand as his cunt pulsed violently. Jungkook followed with a snarl, his release streaking the camera lens.  

Silence.  

Then—  

"Midnight," Jungkook repeated, wiping the screen clean with his thumb. 

"Don’t forget the underwear."

The call ended.  

Taehyung slumped against the sink, his reflection a mess of sweat and tears.  

His cunt throbbed.  

The clock read 11:47.

He didn’t move.

Didn’t have to.

His body knew what came next.

The buzzer sounded at exactly 11:59 PM, vibrating through Taehyung’s bones where he sat stiff-backed on the edge of his bed. He hadn’t changed, still wore the ruined underwear, now stiff with dried fluids that chafed against his swollen cunt with every slight shift. The buzzer rang again. A third time. Insistent. Relentless. 

His bare feet made no sound against the hardwood as he walked to the intercom. Jungkook’s voice crackled through before he could speak. "Let me in." Not a request. Never a request. 

The elevator’s hum was a death knell. Taehyung stood frozen in the open doorway as the numbers climbed: 7, 8, 9, until the ding announced Jungkook’s arrival. He filled the frame, smelling like nicotine and winter air, his pupils already blown black with intent. Without a word, he pushed Taehyung backward into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. 

"You wore them." Jungkook’s fingers hooked into the waistband of Taehyung’s underwear, pulling just enough to make the stretched lace bite into his hips. Taehyung’s breath hitched. Jungkook grinned, slow and predatory, before shoving him facedown onto the couch. The fabric ripped easily in his hands, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut as cold air hit his exposed cunt, still puffy and sensitive from last time. 

"No prep," Jungkook decided, his belt unbuckling with a metallic snick. Taehyung tensed, too dry, too sore, but Jungkook’s palm came down hard on his ass cheek, the sting forcing a gasp loose. "Arch your back." 

Taehyung obeyed on instinct, presenting himself shamelessly. The first thrust tore a scream from his throat, raw and broken. Jungkook didn’t stop, didn’t slow, just buried himself to the hilt with a groan that vibrated through Taehyung’s spine. "Fuck, you’re still so tight," he hissed, fingers digging bruises into Taehyung’s hips as he set a brutal pace. The burn was unbearable; Taehyung’s nails scraped against the couch cushions, his thighs trembling violently as Jungkook’s cock carved him open again and again. 

Jungkook leaned over him, his breath hot against Taehyung’s ear. "You gonna cry?" he taunted, punctuating each word with a sharper thrust. "Gonna beg me to stop?" His hand fisted in Taehyung’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. "Do it." 

Taehyung’s lips parted on a sob. "P-Please" 

Jungkook’s teeth sank into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood. "Not good enough." His free hand slid beneath Taehyung’s body, fingers finding his oversensitive clit with cruel precision. Taehyung thrashed, his vision blurring at the edges as pleasure-pain licked up his spine. "Come on," Jungkook goaded, rubbing faster, his cock hitting that spot inside Taehyung that made his toes curl. "Come for me like the desperate little slut you are." 

The orgasm ripped through him violently, his cunt clamping down around Jungkook’s cock in rhythmic spasms. Jungkook snarled, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release. "Gonna mark you," he gasped, bottoming out with a groan as he spilled inside Taehyung for the third time that night. "Gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to." 

He pulled out slowly, watching his spend leak obscenely onto Taehyung’s thighs. A sharp slap to his ass made Taehyung jolt. "Clean yourself up," Jungkook ordered, tucking himself away with infuriating casualness. "I’m not done with you yet." 

Taehyung’s limbs felt like lead as he staggered to the bathroom. His reflection was a wreck; lips swollen, cheeks tear-streaked, bite marks blooming dark along his collarbones. The shower turned on with a shudder, steam fogging the mirror until his shame was mercifully blurred. 

The bathroom door creaked open behind him. 

Jungkook leaned against the frame, phone in hand, recording. "Smile for the camera," he murmured, zooming in on Taehyung’s trembling form. "Your fans would love to see you like this, don’t you think?" 

Taehyung’s blood ran cold. 

The screen flickered; *live broadcast: 12,543 viewers*

The shower spray scalded Taehyung’s skin, but he didn’t turn it down. He needed the pain; needed something to drown out the droning hum of the live chat notifications vibrating through Jungkook’s phone. The glass door fogged, but not enough to hide the way Jungkook’s thumb swiped across the screen, zooming in on the bruises mottling Taehyung’s inner thighs. 

"Say hello," Jungkook prompted, voice slick with amusement. 

Taehyung pressed his forehead to the tile. His reflection in the shower door was fractured; chest heaving, knees weak, cunt still leaking Jungkook’s come. The chat scrolled faster: 

*Show us his face. Touch yourself for us. Does he cry pretty?* 

Jungkook’s chuckle was a low, vicious thing as he stepped into the shower fully clothed, the water soaking through his shirt, plastering it to the hard lines of his chest. 

"Beg," he murmured, angling the phone higher. 

Taehyung’s lips parted, but no sound came out. Jungkook’s free hand gripped his hip, fingers digging into the fresh bruises there. "Beg," he repeated, "or I show them your fucking address."

A sob tore loose; raw, broken. Taehyung’s hands shook as they slid down his stomach, fingertips skirting the swell of his clit. The chat erupted: 

*Holy shit. Look at him. More.* 

Jungkook’s grip tightened, forcing Taehyung’s fingers to press harder, faster. "Tell them," he urged, his breath hot against Taehyung’s ear. "Tell them how much you love it."

Taehyung’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, his body betraying him yet again. "I-" His voice cracked. Jungkook’s teeth grazed his shoulder, biting down just as his thumb swiped over Taehyung’s clit in tandem with his own trembling fingers. The orgasm hit like a live wire; violent, humiliating, his knees buckling as he came under the gaze of twelve thousand strangers. 

Jungkook caught him, his laughter muffled against Taehyung’s wet skin. "Pathetic," he breathed, ending the stream abruptly. The silence was worse. Taehyung’s breath hitched as Jungkook shoved the phone into his back pocket and yanked him upright by the hair. "Bedroom. Now." 

The walk was a blur. Taehyung’s legs gave out halfway there, but Jungkook hauled him up effortlessly, tossing him onto the mattress like a doll. His hands were everywhere; under Taehyung’s thighs, around his throat, between his legs where he was still swollen and oversensitive. "One more," Jungkook decided, unbuckling his belt with his free hand. "Then I’ll let you sleep." 

The lie tasted bitter. Taehyung knew better. Knew the way Jungkook’s eyes darkened when he was just getting started. Knew the way his fingers tightened possessively around Taehyung’s wrists when he tried to squirm away. 

Jungkook’s cock slid in with practiced ease, the stretch still too much, too soon. Taehyung arched off the bed with a choked cry, his nails scraping uselessly at the sheets. Jungkook didn’t slow, just fucked into him with brutal precision, his hips slamming forward with enough force to shake the headboard. "Say my name," he demanded, his voice rough with exertion. 

Taehyung shook his head, tears spilling over. Jungkook’s hand found his throat, squeezing just enough to make his vision blur. "Say it."

"J-Jungkook" The name fractured into a moan as Jungkook angled deeper, hitting that spot that made Taehyung’s toes curl despite himself. 

"Good boy." Jungkook’s praise was a weapon, sharp and mocking. His pace turned erratic, his breath hot against Taehyung’s collarbone as he chased his own release. Taehyung’s body responded on instinct, arching, tightening, clenching, as another orgasm ripped through him, his cunt fluttering around Jungkook’s cock in helpless spasms. 

Jungkook followed with a groan, spilling inside him for the fourth time that night. He didn’t pull out, just collapsed atop Taehyung, his weight pinning him to the sweat-damp sheets. The silence stretched, broken only by Taehyung’s ragged breathing and the distant buzz of Jungkook’s phone. 

Then— 

*Ding.* 

Jungkook shifted just enough to glance at the screen, his lips curling into a smirk as Taehyung lay motionless beneath him. The glow of the phone illuminated the sweat-slicked hollow of his throat. "Looks like you’ve gone viral," he mused, thumb swiping lazily through notifications. "Twelve thousand retweets. Fifty thousand likes." His fingers tightened in Taehyung’s hair, wrenching his head back to expose the bite marks littering his neck. "Say thank you."

Taehyung’s lips parted on a ragged exhale, but no words came. Jungkook’s grip tightened, his nails biting into Taehyung’s scalp. "Say it."

"Th-thank you," Taehyung whispered, the words ash on his tongue. Jungkook’s grin was victorious, his free hand trailing down Taehyung’s chest to pinch a nipple cruelly. 

"Good." He rolled his hips lazily, still buried deep inside Taehyung, savoring the way his oversensitive cunt clenched involuntarily. "But you’re not done yet." 

The phone clattered onto the bedside table, screen still alight with comments scrolling too fast to read. Jungkook’s weight shifted, his knees pressing Taehyung’s thighs wider as he sat back on his heels. Taehyung’s stomach dropped at the sight; Jungkook’s cock, still glistening with his own spend, hardening again against his abdomen. 

"No," Taehyung breathed, scrambling backward until his spine hit the headboard. "Please, I can’t"

Jungkook caught his ankle in a vice-like grip, yanking him back down the mattress. "Yes, you can," he corrected, his voice dripping with mock sweetness. "And you will." His other hand palmed Taehyung’s cunt roughly, fingers spreading him open to the cold air. "Look at you," he crooned, dragging a fingertip through the mess leaking out of Taehyung. "Still so fucking wet for me." 

Taehyung squeezed his eyes shut, but Jungkook’s fingers dug into his chin, forcing his gaze downward. "Watch," he ordered, aligning his cock with Taehyung’s ruined entrance. "Watch how easily you take me." 

The stretch was unbearable. Taehyung’s scream fractured into a sob as Jungkook bottomed out in one brutal thrust, his hips flush against Taehyung’s thighs. "Fuck," Jungkook groaned, his head tipping back. "Like you were made for this." 

He set a punishing pace from the start, each snap of his hips jolting Taehyung up the mattress. The headboard slammed against the wall in time with their ragged breathing, the rhythm obscenely loud in the otherwise silent apartment. Taehyung’s hands fisted in the sheets, his body arching against his will as Jungkook’s thumb found his clit, rubbing rough circles that bordered on pain. 

"Gonna come again," Jungkook taunted, his breath hot against Taehyung’s ear, when he felt the walls of Taehyung's cunt spasm around his dick. 

"Gonna come on my cock like the desperate little slut you are?" His teeth sank into Taehyung’s shoulder, biting down hard enough to draw blood as his thrusts turned erratic. "Say it." 

Taehyung shook his head violently, tears streaming down his face. Jungkook’s fingers tightened in his hair, wrenching his head back so hard his spine arched off the mattress. “Say it,” Jungkook snarled, his thrusts turning punishingly deep, each snap of his hips forcing the air from Taehyung’s lungs. “Or I’ll let every last one of those viewers hear you scream my name when I split you open.”  

The threat curled hot and sickening in Taehyung’s stomach. His body was a live wire; oversensitive, trembling, his cunt clenching around Jungkook’s cock in traitorous pulses. Jungkook’s thumb pressed down hard on his clit, and Taehyung’s vision whited out as another orgasm ripped through him, his scream muffled against Jungkook’s palm.  

“Say it.” Jungkook’s voice was ragged, his breath hot against Taehyung’s throat as he fucked him through the aftershocks.  

Taehyung’s lips parted on a broken whimper. “Yours.” 

Jungkook groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, spilling inside Taehyung with a low, satisfied growl. He didn’t pull out; just collapsed atop him, his weight pinning Taehyung to the sweat-slick sheets. The silence was thick, suffocating, broken only by the distant *ping* of Jungkook’s phone still lighting up with notifications.  

Then… 

A sharp knock at the door.  

Jungkook went still. Taehyung’s breath hitched.  

The knock came again; harder this time, impatient.  

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk as he slowly pulled out, watching Taehyung’s body shudder at the loss. “Expecting company?” he murmured, dragging a finger through the mess leaking between Taehyung’s thighs.  

Taehyung shook his head frantically, but Jungkook was already reaching for his discarded jeans, pulling them on with infuriating leisure. The knocking turned into pounding; urgent, demanding. Jungkook glanced back at Taehyung, his grin widening. “Stay.”  

The command curled icy down Taehyung’s spine. He didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe as Jungkook strode to the door, pausing just long enough to glance through the peephole before swinging it open with a mockingly polite, “Can I help you?”  

The voice that answered was low, familiar; dangerous.

“You’ve got something of mine.”  

Taehyung’s blood turned to ice.  

Jungkook chuckled, stepping aside just enough to reveal Taehyung’s trembling form still sprawled across the bed, his skin marked and glistening under the dim light. “Oh?” Jungkook mused, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t recall seeing your name on him.”  

The silence that followed was deafening.  

Then…

A gun cocked.  

Jungkook’s grin didn’t falter.  

Taehyung’s breath stopped.  

“Last chance,” the voice warned.