SMUT Secrets Taekook

Ch 1

Author's Pov

Jungkook's low chuckle echoed through the dim room, his dark eyes sparkling with wicked intent.

With a single, fluid motion, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and boxers, letting them slide down his toned thighs.

His massive cock sprang free—thick, veiny, and throbbing with need, already slick with a generous bead of pre-cum that trailed slowly down its impressive length.

The sight was overwhelming, a raw display of arousal that stole Taehyung's breath, his gaze fixed on the glistening tip, the air thick with Jungkook's intoxicating, musky scent.

"Like what you see?" Jungkook teased, his voice a deep rumble as he wrapped a hand around his shaft, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke.

Another drop of pre-cum welled up, spilling over his fingers.

"N-no," Taehyung stuttered, his face flushing crimson, but the heat surging through his body told a different story, his own arousal betraying him.

"Liar," Jungkook growled playfully, closing the distance between them.

His fingers tangled firmly in Taehyung's soft hair, tilting his head back.

"Open wide, pretty boy. You're gonna take every inch and choke on it like the good little slut you are."

---

You’re probably wondering how the hell I got into this mess.
Fair question.
Let’s rewind — fast.

Concrete glowed orange. Sparks clawed at the rafters like furious insects.
A conveyor belt moaned somewhere behind the flames.
And in the middle of it — under a halo of ash and heat — JYP was on his knees.

Blood glazed his shirt.
Wounds opened dark and honest.
He looked smaller than the myth everyone built him to be.

Jungkook laughed once — dry, metallic, the sound of metal scraping against bone.

“You watch it burn,” he said.
Calm. Cold. Like reading someone’s sentence aloud.
“This could’ve been you. Consider this your last warning.”

JYP didn’t fight. Couldn’t.
Shame hung heavier than the chains at his wrists.
He bowed — a man raised to swallow pride until there’s nothing left to choke on.

Tears streaked clean paths through the soot on his face.
They hit the ground —
and suddenly, it wasn’t concrete anymore.

---

Soft landing. White sheets.

Taehyung’s tears replaced his father’s.
Silent. Relentless. The kind that hit harder because they didn’t need sound.

Jimin saw first.

“Tae… what happened?”
His voice was careful — too gentle for the world they lived in.

Taehyung’s throat worked before his voice did.

“I saw his face,” he said slowly.
“For the first time, he looked… afraid. Embarrassed.”
He swallowed hard. “I couldn’t breathe watching him like that.”

Jimin’s arms wrapped around him instantly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
It didn’t fix anything, but it stopped the room from collapsing.

Tae exhaled once. Long. Empty.
Then his voice cut through the quiet.

“That’s why I’ve decided.”

Jimin blinked.

“Decided what?”

“Revenge.”
The word dropped like a knife point hitting metal.

Jimin froze.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” Taehyung’s tone didn’t waver. “He gave my dad one last warning.”
His eyes burned. “Now I’ll give him one.”

Jimin’s hand fell away — cold now.

“Tae, your dad won’t—”

“Who said I’m asking?”
Taehyung’s smile was small, vicious.
Half grief, half madness.

Jimin shook his head. “That’s insane. We can’t just—”

Tae cut him off with a laugh that didn’t sound human.

“Every mafia has a weakness. He found my dad’s — I’ll find his.”

Jimin’s disbelief cracked open into dread.

“We don’t even know what it is.”

“Then we’ll learn.”
A smirk ghosted over Tae’s mouth.
“Looks like it’s time to play some spy games, bestie.”

Jimin blinked — torn between fear and adrenaline.
He could already see it: dossiers, cameras, sleepless nights, a hunt with no map.

---

Taehyung’s hand slammed against the tablet.
Jungkook’s photo filled the screen — sharp jaw, eyes that looked carved from arrogance.

“Jeon Jungkook, huh?” Tae muttered.
“Your golden days end soon.”

He hurled the tablet.
It hit the floor with a neat, surgical crack.

The sound of a promise breaking open.