38
Third Person Pov
It was 11:35, and Taehyung stood frozen in the middle of the CEO’s vast room, every muscle tense as though he were a schoolboy dragged into the principal’s office.
His face was carefully blank, a mask of indifference he had learned to wear but inside, his heart thundered.
His hands were cold despite the warm air, and his throat was tight with unspoken fear.
Jungkook didn’t look at him. Not once. He sat at his study table, the soft glow of the desk lamp pooling around him, his broad shoulders bent slightly as his fingers glided across the keyboard.
He worked with the calmness of someone who had the whole world under his control.
Taehyung, meanwhile, was treated like furniture. Like air.
The silence stretched thin. Every second dragged. Taehyung’s legs ached from standing still, and the weight of his exhaustion pressed down on him. He wanted.... no, needed to sleep. But Jungkook had summoned him, and Jungkook’s word wasn’t one Taehyung could ignore.
He let out a sigh, quiet at first, then louder, sharper frustration seeping through despite himself. The sound sliced through the room like a knife.
Jungkook’s eyes lifted from the screen.
For the briefest moment, Taehyung felt the full weight of that dark gaze pin him to the floor. His breath caught in his throat. Then Jungkook’s eyes dropped back to the laptop, lashes lowering as if Taehyung wasn’t worth the effort of acknowledgment.
But then, without warning, the CEO shut the laptop with a firm snap. The sound echoed in the stillness, sharp enough to make Taehyung step back slightly. Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping once against the polished wood, his expression unreadable. Slowly, deliberately, he stood.
The chair scraped softly against the floor, and Taehyung’s pulse spiked. He felt his palms dampen as Jungkook straightened to his full height, shadows from the lamp catching against his sharp jaw and the dark scar along his neck.
Jungkook’s eyes locked onto Taehyung, dark and unreadable, before he finally moved. His steps were slow, steady, each one echoing like a countdown in Taehyung’s chest. Taehyung stood his ground. He didn’t retreat.not yet. He had agreed, after all.
Jungkook stopped just an inch away, close enough that Taehyung could feel the heat radiating from his body, close enough that his breath ghosted against Taehyung’s skin.
“Anything,” Jungkook reminded, more like mocked his voice.
Taehyung’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his lashes fluttering. “Yes,” he whispered, so soft it was almost a prayer.
“Interesting,” Jungkook murmured, tilting his head as though Taehyung had just handed him a puzzle piece he didn’t know he wanted.
His fingers lifted, gliding lazily along Taehyung’s arm. The touch was deceptively gentle, but it made Taehyung shiver, goosebumps rising in its wake. Jungkook didn’t miss it, he never missed anything. His eyes stayed fixed on Taehyung, drinking in every twitch, every subtle reaction.
“You do know,” Jungkook drawled, his fingers trailing down to Taehyung’s wrist before retreating only to return again, “I could take very good advantage of that anything, yeah?”
Taehyung’s lips parted. He forced his voice steady, though it cracked at the edges. “I know.”
Jungkook paused, his gaze hardening as if he was trying to read straight through Taehyung’s soul. As if he was wondering what kind of person could stand here, trembling yet refusing to run.
Then, without warning, Jungkook stepped closer. The move forced Taehyung back. One step. Two. Three. Each time Jungkook advanced, Taehyung retreated until his back met the cold wall with a muted thud.
Jungkook’s palms slid to the sides of Taehyung’s hips, caging him there, his grip firm but not crushing. He leaned in just slightly, their height difference pressing down like gravity itself.
Taehyung’s breaths were shallow, quick, but Jungkook…
Jungkook was composed. Calm. His eyes traveled across Taehyung’s face with a collector’s obsession, cataloguing every detail, the small mole near his lip, the faint scar along his jaw, the imperfections that, somehow, made the younger impossibly captivating.
Taehyung’s chest tightened, his lips trembling as he fought to hold his expression steady.
Then Jungkook’s gaze dropped. His fingers lifted from Taehyung’s hips and moved higher, deliberate, until they brushed against the first button of Taehyung’s shirt. Taehyung sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, his pulse thundering in his throat.
One button. Then another. Jungkook unfastened them slowly, savoring the way each pop of fabric made Taehyung twitch, made his breathing falter.
By the third button, Jungkook finally looked back up, their eyes locking. His lips curved...half smirk, half something darker.
“Anything, right?” he murmured, his fingers poised on the next button.
“Yeah,” Taehyung whispered, voice barely audible, though Jungkook caught it instantly.
His fingers moved with unhurried precision, slipping each button free until the shirt hung loose, useless, from Taehyung’s shoulders. With one smooth motion, Jungkook slid the fabric down, watching as it pooled at Taehyung’s feet.
The younger’s arms folded across his chest in a desperate attempt to shield himself, his head dipping slightly, lashes heavy with humiliation. The action made Jungkook’s lips twitch, not in pity but in amusement.
He cocked a brow. “Still trying to hide?”
Before Taehyung could answer, Jungkook caught his wrists, firm and unyielding. He twisted them gently but with control, forcing Taehyung’s arms behind his back. The sudden restraint made Taehyung’s breath hitch, his chest rising quickly against the press of invisible chains.
“There,” Jungkook murmured, leaning close, his breath hot against Taehyung’s ear. “Better. I prefer you like this.”
Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek, his knuckles whitening as he tried to wriggle free, but Jungkook’s grip didn’t budge. He held him in place effortlessly, as if restraining him was the most natural thing in the world.
Then Jungkook lowered his head, lips brushing just above the slope of Taehyung’s shoulder. He lingered there for a heartbeat, his nose grazing skin, inhaling his scent as though he had all the time in the world.
Finally, he pressed his mouth against Taehyung’s bare shoulder.
The kiss was claiming slow, deliberate, burning.
Taehyung exhaled sharply, the sound torn from his throat before he could suppress it. His lashes fluttered shut, his head tilting back against the wall as if the weight of the moment was too heavy.
Jungkook smirked against his shoulder, lips dragging lower, leaving faint trails of heat. His voice was a low hum, vibrating against Taehyung’s skin.
“Every time you gasp like that…” Jungkook’s words wrapped around him like chains. “It reminds me you’re still fighting me in your head, even as your body listens to me.”
Taehyung’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, his lips trembling.
Jungkook, amused by the silence, angled his face up. Their eyes met again...one pair burning, the other wide, vulnerable, glistening.
“My playdoll,” Jungkook said casually, the words slicing through the silence. His lips curved into something cruel, a whisper of amusement in his tone. “And playdolls deserve to dress up.”
Taehyung’s brows furrowed, his lips parting in disbelief. “What?”
But Jungkook didn’t answer him. Instead, he stepped back, turning his broad shoulders toward the massive closet that dominated one side of the room. The sound of polished shoes against the floor echoed as he disappeared inside.
Taehyung exhaled, shaky, his hands instantly flying back to his chest, hugging himself.
His heart thudded in his ribcage, a frantic rhythm that betrayed him.
What did he mean by that? Dress up? His gaze flicked toward the door, temptation burning to just run but something in the weight of Jungkook’s presence pinned him there, unmoving.
When the CEO returned, he carried a sleek black box, the kind that screamed wealth even before it was opened. He placed it on the table with deliberate care, then turned, his eyes landing squarely on Taehyung.
“Curious?” Jungkook’s voice was smooth, dangerous.
Taehyung swallowed, his throat dry, his lashes lowering for a second before he looked back at the box. His expression was hesitant, reluctant but undeniably curious.
Jungkook smirked, flicking the lid open.
Taehyung blinked. His breath caught. Inside, nestled in silk, was a glittering collection.... jewels that sparkled under the warm light, choker, rings, delicate chains, expensive fabrics folded neatly. Riches beyond what Taehyung had ever touched.
But his eyes locked instantly on the one piece of fabric peeking out from under the jewels. Pink. Soft. Familiar.
Taehyung’s eyes widened. His stomach dropped. It was that shirt. The satin one from the mall. The one Gyubin had pointed at with bright eyes, the one Taehyung had traced longingly with his fingers before forcing himself to walk away because of its price.
His breath hitched audibly.
“You—” Taehyung’s voice cracked, shock trembling in it.
Jungkook was already picking it up, his large hands sliding over the expensive fabric with ease, lifting it like it was nothing. His gaze flicked to Taehyung, sharp, unyielding, amused.
Jungkook stopped just a breath away, holding the satin shirt between them like a leash he hadn’t put on yet.
“Now… let’s see how my playdoll looks in silk.”
Jungkook didn’t ask...he simply lifted the shirt and slipped it over Taehyung’s shoulders, his fingers brushing bare skin with deliberate slowness as he tugged the satin into place.
Taehyung’s breath hitched, his lashes fluttering, but he stayed frozen, allowing the fabric to slide down his arms until it covered him fully.
“Perfect,” Jungkook murmured under his breath, smoothing the collar with the same precision one might use to straighten a treasured painting.
Then, without pause, he turned to the box again, pulling out a matching pair of tailored pants. His tone when he spoke was blunt, cutting through the charged silence:
“Are you going to wear this yourself, or should I do it for you?”
Taehyung’s head shook instantly, too fast, his voice tumbling out unsteady. “I—I’ll wear it myself.” He grabbed the pants from Jungkook’s hand and nearly stumbled as he rushed toward the walk-in closet.
The CEO didn’t stop him. He only watched, hands slipping casually into his pockets, expression unreadable. The faintest shadow of a smirk tugged at his mouth as he listened to the rustling behind the closet door.
When Taehyung finally returned, the satin clung to him in all the right ways. His steps were hesitant, small, as if afraid of how Jungkook would judge him.
Jungkook’s gaze traveled slowly, deliberately, from head to toe. He didn’t hide it, didn’t soften it. Every inch of Taehyung was taken in, studied, claimed. His lips curved.
Taehyung’s ears burned as he dropped his gaze, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He didn’t know what to do with that kind of attention.
“Sit,” Jungkook ordered.
Taehyung’s head shot up, but Jungkook had already dragged a chair closer with his leg, settling it squarely in front of him. Taehyung obeyed without a word, sinking into the chair, his fingers twisting nervously in his lap.
Jungkook stepped back to the box, retrieving a jewel-studded choker that shimmered dangerously under the lights. He held it up, eyes briefly flicking to Taehyung’s throat. Without asking, he leaned forward and tied it snugly around the pale neck.
Taehyung exhaled audibly, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “Why… are you doing all this?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
Jungkook leaned back, tilting his head, his eyes sharp. “I told you already.” His lips curved faintly. “I’m just playing with my doll.”
Taehyung shook his head faintly, but Jungkook didn’t allow him time to linger in the thought. The CEO moved next to rings sliding them one by one onto Taehyung’s fingers, his large hands dwarfing the younger’s delicate ones.
Then came earrings. Jungkook removed the simple studs Taehyung wore, letting them fall soundlessly to the floor, and replaced them with gleaming new ones, fastening them carefully.
Taehyung’s pulse raced. He was overwhelmed by the weight of the jewels, by the brush of Jungkook’s fingers, by the strange gentleness that scared him far more than cruelty ever could.
Jungkook’s eyes were entirely focused, detached yet attentive, as if the act of decorating him was more important than Taehyung himself. Finally, he reached for the last piece: a delicate hair accessory, catching the light like a crown.
Without hesitation, he stepped closer, fingers brushing through Taehyung’s dark locks as he clipped it neatly into place.
When Jungkook finally pulled back, Taehyung sat frozen.
He looked like something out of a dream satin draped across his frame, jewels catching every flicker of light, his wide eyes imitating the shimmer of the gems that now adorned him. He looked fragile. Untouchable.
A perfect doll.
Jungkook tilted his head, studying his creation. “Now you’re ready.”
Taehyung swallowed hard, the weight of the choker pressing against his throat, the CEO’s words pressing even harder against his chest.
Jungkook’s eyes roamed over Taehyung one last time, sharp and assessing. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, his large hand brushing against the younger’s thigh, steadying him in the chair. Taehyung’s breath hitched, his fingers twitching in his lap, unsure whether to resist or obey.
“Hands,” Jungkook said, his voice low, commanding. Taehyung blinked, heart hammering, and hesitated. Jungkook’s gaze darkened, and the single word carried weight, danger, and promise all at once.
Taehyung slowly lifted his hands, palms up, and Jungkook took them, his fingers entwining with the younger’s. He held them there, letting Taehyung feel the pressure of his grip, the heat, the strength behind it.
“Stand,” he ordered, his tone sharp, no room for hesitation.
“Turn around.” Jungkook’s voice dropped lower, almost a growl. Taehyung’s stomach knotted as he pivoted, feeling exposed under Jungkook’s gaze.
The CEO’s hand shot out, fingers brushing the nape of Taehyung’s neck, cold but commanding. He pressed Taehyung’s face gently yet firmly against the wall.
“Bend,” Jungkook whispered, the word laced with power. Taehyung’s knees bent slightly, a shiver running through him at the proximity, at the way Jungkook’s presence seemed to consume the room. He bit down on his lower lip, suppressing a whimper as he felt Jungkook’s hand slide down his spine.
The touch was deliberate, testing, tracing every contour.
Taehyung’s heart raced. His breath hitched.
When Jungkook’s hand reached the curve of his hips, he paused just a fraction before sliding over to cup and trace Taehyung’s butt, pressing lightly, assessing, teasing.
Taehyung gasped, fingers digging into the wall instinctively,
“Careful,” Jungkook murmured in his ear, voice low and dark, almost amused by the reaction. “Every inch of you… I know it. Every little reaction.”
Taehyung swallowed, cheeks flushing, and tried to steady himself. He could feel Jungkook’s control in every touch, every movement...an iron grip hidden beneath the casual dominance of the gesture. His lips parted again, and he bit down harder, trying to suppress the sound that threatened to escape.
Jungkook hovered above Taehyung from behind, his breath ghosting against the shell of his ear. His chest pressed into Taehyung’s back deliberately, every inch of contact intentional.
“From now on…” Jungkook murmured, low and sharp, “you’ll give me something more than obedience.”
Taehyung’s fingers curled against the wall, knuckles white. “W-What do you mean?” he whispered, his voice cracking.
Jungkook’s lips curved as he slid his hand down the curve of Taehyung’s spine, stopping just at the dip of his waist. “I need sexual favors from you.” He said it like a business deal, casual, non-negotiable.
Taehyung’s head whipped slightly to the side, his wide eyes darting to the corner of Jungkook’s gaze. “You can’t just—”
“I can,” Jungkook cut in smoothly, his tone laced with finality. “And you’ll let me.”
Taehyung’s jaw tightened, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’re insane… this isn’t—”
“This is exactly what you agreed to,” Jungkook reminded, his voice soft but merciless. He brushed his lips dangerously close to Taehyung's cheeks, making the younger flinch. "don’t forget… you’re the one who said anything.”
Taehyung swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “I didn’t mean… this.”
“Too late,” Jungkook whispered, his hand sliding lower until it rested on Taehyung's waist “From this moment, you’ll give me whenever I ask. Wherever I ask. No hesitation.”
Taehyung couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sexual favors? The words rang in his head, muddling his thoughts, until suddenly the world tipped he was spun around in an instant, his back hitting the wall with a force that stole his breath.
The soft jingle of the jewels he wore filled the air, echoing in the silence of the room, fragile and sharp all at once.
“Fuck…” Jungkook’s voice came low, rough, as if dragged from deep in his chest. His dark eyes bore into him, scanning every detail of his trembling figure, every flicker of hesitation in his wide, glossy eyes and parted lips.
Taehyung’s breath hitched. The intensity in Jungkook’s gaze felt suffocating, consuming.
Jungkook clenched his jaw, his composure clearly unraveling. “I can’t control it anymore…” he ground out, the words almost a growl.
Taehyung’s pulse pounded in his ears. He barely registered the sound of metal sliding, the soft, jarring clink of a belt being unbuckled. It felt too fast everything was spiraling before he could catch up.
Both of his wrists were trapped in one of Jungkook’s hands, pinned firmly above his head, leaving him helpless, exposed. Jungkook’s other hand moved with determination, each motion deliberate, his eyes never leaving Taehyung’s.
“Please…” The word tumbled from Taehyung’s lips in a broken whisper. He didn’t even know what he was begging for mercy, release, or for Jungkook to stop. All he knew was that the dangerous hunger in Jungkook’s stare made the plea escape him before he could swallow it back.
The younger man’s knees buckled, and with a rough push he found himself sinking down, placed where Jungkook wanted him. His thoughts were clouded, hazy, unable to form a clear path through the whirlwind of fear, shock, and the strange heat that coiled in his chest.
When he finally dared to glance up, those terrified, shimmering eyes met Jungkook’s again. And in that moment, Jungkook’s restraint snapped. The last thread of control holding him together gave way under the sheer force of Taehyung’s expression innocent, pleading, and devastating all at once.
With a sharp tug, Jungkook slid down his boxers, revealing himself fully. The sight made Taehyung’s stomach twist, a mix of fear and heat pooling low. His breath hitched, a soft gasp escaping before he could stop it.
Jungkook planted a firm hand on the wall behind Taehyung, leaning close so that his presence pressed down like a weight. His voice was low, dangerous, and commanding.
“Suck.”
Taehyung’s throat went dry. He lowered his gaze instinctively, heart hammering, fingers trembling at his sides.
“I said—suck,” Jungkook growled, tugging Taehyung’s hair sharply, forcing his face up to meet the piercing intensity in Jungkook’s eyes.
Taehyung swallowed hard, heat and fear tangling in his chest. He nodded, unable to speak, and slowly brought his hand up, hesitating just long enough to feel the cold burn of anticipation in his stomach.
When he finally wrapped his fingers around Jungkook, it was tentative, almost reverent, as if he were touching something dangerous.
Jungkook’s jaw clenched at the sensation, chest rising with restrained tension.
He pressed closer, the weight of his body a constant reminder of who held control.
Taehyung’s knees trembled beneath him, the floor cold against his skin, but he didn’t move.
He couldn’t move. Not when Jungkook’s shadow engulfed him, not when every command from that man carried the authority of a storm he couldn’t escape.
“Do your thing, show me why I keep you.” Jungkook ordered, his voice low and sharp, leaving no room for argument. Taehyung’s hands trembled as they hesitated over him, heat and fear knotting in his stomach.
“I… I’m just— I only… I have no choice. Don’t think any—”
“Shut the hell up,” Jungkook cut him off with a growl. Without warning, he pressed his hand against Taehyung’s, guiding him firmly, forcing the pace.
Taehyung’s fingers obeyed reluctantly, moving as if on autopilot, but the tremor in his hands betrayed his nervousness.
A soft, involuntary whimper escaped Taehyung as Jungkook pressed himself closer, his hips nudging against the younger’s face.
Then, abruptly, Jungkook pressed himself against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung froze, wide-eyed, before slowly parting his mouth under the weight of Jungkook’s intense stare.
“Come on,” Jungkook urged, his voice low and rough, and Taehyung obeyed, opening just enough, feeling the heat radiate from Jungkook.
Jungkook closed his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath as he felt the warmth and wetness of Taehyung’s lips.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, voice rough, a mix of frustration and desire. Taehyung, still hesitant at first, took the tip into his mouth carefully, testing, before gradually taking more, his movements tentative but eager to please.
Jungkook’s hand gripped the back of Taehyung’s head, guiding him with precise force, setting the rhythm. Every reluctant motion of Taehyung’s mouth made his own control slip further, heat building, tension tightening around them like a vice.
“Faster,” Jungkook commanded, his voice low, dominant, leaving no space for hesitation. “Keep your eyes up, I want you to see who owns you."
Taehyung’s eyes flickered up at him, wide and anxious, but he obeyed. His lips and tongue moved in careful rhythm, hands clutching Jungkook as he felt the weight of the CEO’s presence bearing down, his body trembling with the intensity of it.
Jungkook’s chest rose sharply as he hissed. The rough, controlled breaths, the warmth of Taehyung kneeling beneath him...it was maddening. He pressed even closer, leaning down, grinding slightly, testing Taehyung’s limits, until he could no longer hold back.
“Yeah… just like that,” he groaned, each word clipped, dangerous. “Fucking… perfect for me.”
Taehyung shivered at the praise, unsure whether he should feel embarrassed or proud, lost in the overwhelming dominance and heat pressing down on him. Every subtle motion, every hesitating breath only drew Jungkook tighter, his control relentless, precise, and utterly consuming.
Each thrust sent shivers through him, and soon his gagging sounds escaped involuntarily, sharp and wet against Jungkook.
“Please… slow…” Taehyung gasped between desperate breaths, eyes wide and watery, looking up at Jungkook as if asking permission.
“Fuck–” Jungkook muttered, his mind already hazy from desire. His hand tightened in the back of Taehyung’s hair, holding him firmly in place. “You’re mine,” he growled, voice low and rough. “My little plaything… look at you… choking on me like a good little toy.”
Taehyung whimpered, the shame and heat burning through him. Every degrading word sank deep, yet he felt a thrill at being used, kneeling so submissively beneath Jungkook.
“Don’t stop," Jungkook snarled, thrusting harder, pushing deeper into him. “You’re so fucking good, I could use you all day, and you’d still beg for more.”
Taehyung’s head bobbed faster, the movements automatic now, guided by instinct and the firm, controlling pressure of Jungkook above him. Every time he gagged, Jungkook smirked, low chuckles of satisfaction slipping through the haze of his desire.
“Such a good little fucktoy,” Jungkook continued, taunting and praising at once, hand gripping Taehyung’s hair roughly. “Look at you… drooling, gagging… doing everything I tell you. That’s my doll, yeah… my fucking doll.”
Taehyung’s fingers trembled as they tried to hold steady, but the clip Jungkook had tucked into his hair finally slipped, falling loose onto the floor. A small, helpless whimper escaped Taehyung at the sudden loss, his hair falling slightly into his face.
Jungkook’s eyes darkened, lust and control mixing into a dangerous haze. He pressed down, grinding, holding Taehyung in place. “Look at you… losing even that tiny bit of control. Fucking pathetic… and I love it,” he hissed, voice thick and dominant.
Every motion of Taehyung’s head, every gagging sound, every shaky inhale only fed Jungkook’s dominance.
He was entirely in control, using his plaything exactly as he pleased, teasing, degrading, and praising in a twisted rhythm that left Taehyung overwhelmed and desperate, yet utterly obedient.
“My cock feels so good shoved deep down your throat,” Jungkook muttered, voice rough, dragging out every syllable. “My little doll…only mine.”
Taehyung’s lips moved faster now, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn’t stop.
He didn’t want to stop. Every degrading word, every sharp thrust, every praise and command intertwined until he was completely consumed by the intensity of Jungkook’s control, trembling on his knees as the world narrowed down to only them.
Taehyung choked on his own saliva as it dripped down, the taste sharp and overwhelming. Jungkook’s hand gripped the jewel-studded choker at the back of Taehyung’s neck, holding him firmly in place as he thrust deeper and harder.
“Mhmm,” Taehyung whimpered, instinctively increasing his pace, desperate to please, his trembling movements betraying how consumed he already was.
Jungkook shuddered, teeth clenching. “Bitch…” he muttered, groaning low as Taehyung teased the tip, warmth spreading through him in sharp, intoxicating waves.
Taehyung moaned, tears spilling freely down his cheeks, every whimper only driving Jungkook further over the edge. The overwhelming heat coiled tighter in Jungkook’s body until he swelled inside Taehyung, pressure building unbearably.
Taehyung instinctively tried to pull away, panic flashing through his wide eyes, but Jungkook yanked him back with the choker, holding him firmly.
Without warning, he released into Taehyung’s mouth, forcing him to swallow, the salty warmth flooding him.
Taehyung gasped, overwhelmed, as Jungkook repeated it again, deeper, hotter, until he finally pulled back, leaving the evidence dripping from Taehyung’s lips.
Jungkook leaned heavily against the wall, chest heaving, mind clouded with pleasure, eyes dark as he stared down at the ruined, trembling figure before him.
“Swallow,” Jungkook warned, voice low and dangerous. Taehyung gulped nervously, letting the taste slide down his throat. He wiped at his mouth with trembling fingers, overwhelmed and humiliated, and glared up at Jungkook with a mix of defiance and desperation.
The room was thick with heat, tension, and unspoken power, both of them caught in the aftermath, breathless, charged, and irrevocably altered by the intensity of what had just happened.
Taehyung wiped at his eyes, fingers trembling as he heard the soft click of a zipper closing. He had lost...again. His chest rose and fell with a shaky breath. This was his fate. He had no choice but to accept it, no matter how much it humiliated him.
Jungkook knelt before him, head tilted slightly, eyes cold and calculating, lips brushing dangerously close to Taehyung’s. He raised a hand, grazing it over Taehyung’s lips.
“Do you want me to… make you feel good?” Jungkook’s voice was low and measured, mocking without a hint of warmth.
Taehyung grit his teeth, his hands clenching at his sides. “I… I hate you!” he burst out, voice shaking with heat and fury. “I fucking hate you! You— you do this every single time because you can! Because I have no choice! I— I’m trapped!”
Jungkook’s gaze didn’t falter. He didn’t smile. He didn’t chuckle. He simply tilted his head, cold and amused, as though Taehyung’s words were nothing more than a minor annoyance.
“Look at you,” he whispered, low and taunting. “I dressed you like a masterpiece. And now you’re ruined exactly how I wanted. A doll that breaks prettily in my hands.”
“I’m not your doll!” Taehyung snapped, shoving at the air between them, desperate to put distance, to reclaim some shred of control. “I’m not yours! I… I’d never choose this if I had any other option!”
Jungkook leaned in slightly, letting his lips brush against Taehyung’s cheek, his voice low and precise. “You don’t get to choose. Not with me.”
Taehyung turned sharply, his frustration bubbling into pure anger. Tears welled up soon as he blinked too fast. His lipss were trembling as he fisted his hands.
Jungkook’s eyes remained fixed on him, unwavering, the faintest glint of amusement in their depths. He didn’t move. He didn’t comment. He simply observed, letting Taehyung vent, letting him unravel in front of him.
Taehyung exhaled sharply, heat burning his face, hands clenching at his sides. His lips were raw, swollen from where Jungkook had pressed against them earlier. His chest heaved as he turned toward the door, muttering under his breath. “Unbelievable… you’re impossible… and I… I… I fuck…”
Jungkook’s gaze followed him, cool, calculating, silently enjoying the storm of frustration he’d left in his wake.
Taehyung threw a last glare with his teary eyes over his shoulder, jaw tight, “Don’t think for a second I’ll ever… that I… you’re… disgusting,” he spat, voice raw with emotion. Then he stormed toward the door, each step heavy with frustration and helplessness.
The door clicked shut behind him. Jungkook’s eyes fell to the small clip that had slipped from Taehyung’s hair during the encounter.
He knelt, picking it up carefully, turning it over in his fingers, cold amusement still lingering in his gaze. Even in Taehyung’s defiance, he remained entirely in control, quietly savoring the chaos he had created.
.
.
.
Taehyung stood frozen outside Jungkook’s room, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on him like a physical force.
His hands trembled slightly, the rings Jungkook had placed on him feeling heavier than ever now, like tiny anchors pulling him down. He clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself, but the images and sensations refused to leave his mind.
Slowly, deliberately, he began removing the rings, one by one, his fingers shaking. Each one he tossed away felt like casting a piece of himself into the void.
The choker around his neck was next. He fumbled with it, his fingers slipping against the smooth metal, and finally threw it aside with a sharp exhale, his breath shaky.
His knees felt weak. His chest heaved as dizziness rolled through him in waves, the room spinning slightly. He pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to hold back the nausea that clawed its way up his throat. His vision blurred, and a cold, sinking panic spread through his stomach.
Without thinking, he stumbled down the hallway, gripping the walls for balance, until he reached a random room and then the bathroom.
The moment he saw himself in the mirror, pale and flushed, overwhelmed and trembling, he couldn’t hold it anymore.
He bent over the sink, hands gripping the edges for support, and let the contents of his stomach betray him.
His body shook with every retch, his mind screaming for escape, for relief, for anything to make the whirlwind inside him stop. The cool tiles against his knees, the sharp tang in his mouth, the sound of his own vomiting, it all grounded him in the reality of what had just happened.
When he finally pulled back from the sink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes were glassy, and tears threatened to spill.
Every thought led back to Jungkook. Every pulse of his heart seemed to whisper that nothing would ever be the same.
Taehyung turned on the tap, letting the cold water rush over his hands first, then splashing it onto his face.
The chill bit into his flushed skin, shocking him slightly back to the present, but it did little to erase the heat crawling through his cheeks.
He cupped the water in his hands again, pressing it to his mouth, rinsing the taste away.
He gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles whitening, as his reflection stared back at him.
The wide eyes, the trembling lips, the messy hair.
..it all looked foreign, like a stranger had been in his body.
His chest heaved, the panic and nausea now replaced by a heavier, quieter weight: the ache of being used.
“Why… why do I-I feel like this?” he muttered through clenched teeth, voice rough and jagged. His reflection stared back at him messy hair, red eyes, trembling lips. “I didn’t ask for this… I didn’t…”
The realization sank into him like a stone. He had given himself...body and soul while all he had craved was to be cherished, to be seen as more than just a plaything.
His fingers slid along the edge of the sink as if clinging to something solid in a world that suddenly felt unsteady. The mirror reflected a broken, trembling version of himself, and he had no one to blame but the chaos of his own heart and Jungkook’s relentless, consuming presence.
“I hate this. I hate how… how he makes me feel like this,” he whispered, jaw trembling. “I can’t… I can’t even think straight.
Taehyung pressed his palms to his face, inhaling sharply, trying to steady the storm of shame, fear, and longing.
He hated the sensation of being powerless, of being reduced to a body to be used, yet there was a part of him that couldn’t stop thinking about the intensity of those dark, commanding eyes.
“Why does it hurt so much… and why can’t I stop thinking about him?” His voice cracked, raw and unsteady. “I wanted love… not this. Not this.”
He splashed more water, hoping to wash away more than just the taste, hoping to scrub away the sting of being violated in a way that no one had ever touched him before.
But he knew it would linger. Deep in his chest, a hollow ache whispered that nothing could undo what had happened.
...nothing except time, and even that might not be enough.