...my sin ...

The city never slept, and neither did Victor. At twenty-one, he was already the kind of man people whispered about. Cold, sharp, unapproachable—yet impossible to ignore. He was a walking contradiction: the boy with anger issues who could crush you with a single glare, but who melted like butter when it came to one particular brat—Kim Taehyung.

Victor told himself many times he didn’t care. He didn’t need anyone. Possession and obsession weren’t his flaws—they were his instincts. And yet, the moment Taehyung stumbled into his life, smiling with those mischievous lips and daring eyes, his world tilted.

Taehyung was trouble. At twenty, he was everything Victor wasn’t—cute, sassy, loud, reckless, and so damn flirty that half the world hated him and the other half wanted to own him. But behind the sparkle in his voice and the playful roll of his eyes, Taehyung carried something darker. He hurt himself when no one was watching. He smiled too wide when his heart ached the most. And Victor noticed. Victor always noticed.

---

The First Collision

The first time Victor and Taehyung met wasn’t a love story—it was a war.

It was at a late-night college party, the kind where music bled from the walls and the air stank of alcohol and smoke. Victor didn’t belong there, but his friend had dragged him out, insisting he needed a break. He was leaning against the wall, silent and detached, when he saw him.

Taehyung.

The boy was perched on the kitchen counter, swinging his legs, a mischievous smirk painted on his face as he teased anyone who dared approach. He was wearing ripped jeans, a loose shirt that slipped off one shoulder, and that infuriating confidence of someone who knew exactly how much attention he could demand.

Victor should have looked away. But he didn’t.

Instead, his dark gaze locked on the brat who licked his lips while holding a drink like it was an extension of his personality. Taehyung noticed, of course. He always noticed when someone was staring. With a dramatic sigh, he hopped off the counter and walked straight toward Victor.

“You look like you hate everyone here,” Taehyung teased, tilting his head. “Or maybe you’re just shy?”

Victor’s jaw tightened. “I don’t do parties.”

“Then why are you here?” Taehyung smirked, leaning in too close. His perfume was sweet but sharp, clashing with Victor’s calm. “Looking for someone? Or just standing around being mysterious?”

Victor hated how his pulse quickened. “You talk too much.”

“And you stare too much,” Taehyung shot back, eyes gleaming. “Not that I mind. You’re hot. Dark and scary… my type.”

Victor should have walked away. But Taehyung had already found the crack in his armor.

---

Obsession is Born

Victor tried to forget about him. Tried to pretend that brat didn’t get under his skin. But fate wasn’t kind.

A week later, he saw Taehyung again—this time sitting on the steps outside campus, scribbling in a notebook with headphones on. The playful boy from the party was gone; this version looked soft, fragile, almost… lonely.

Victor hated how much he wanted to sit beside him.

He didn’t. Instead, he stood there, silently watching until Taehyung noticed. The brat pulled his headphones down and smirked.

“Are you following me now?”

Victor scowled. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But Taehyung’s grin only widened. “Mhm. Sure. The big scary boy just happens to be everywhere I am? Sounds like stalking, pretty boy.”

Victor’s hand twitched. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You’re pretty,” Taehyung teased, eyes sparkling. “But I bet you hate compliments. Let me guess—you prefer control, don’t you? Someone obedient, someone who won’t talk back?”

Victor stepped closer, his voice low, dangerous. “You should be careful who you provoke.”

Taehyung only licked his lips, whispering, “Or what? You’ll punish me?”

Something inside Victor snapped that day. That brat had no idea the kind of monster he was poking. And yet, instead of walking away, Victor felt his obsession coil tighter.

---

The Breaking Point

Days turned into weeks, and somehow, Victor and Taehyung kept colliding. Sometimes at class, sometimes at the café near campus, sometimes in the most inconvenient corners of the city. Each time, Taehyung pushed, and Victor pulled back—until one evening when things exploded.

Victor had found Taehyung in the back alley behind a bar, sitting on the ground with scraped knuckles and bloodied lip. He’d been in a fight.

“Are you insane?” Victor barked, kneeling in front of him.

Taehyung smirked despite the blood. “Relax, Daddy. I’m fine.”

Victor’s hands clenched. “Don’t joke about this.”

“Why not? It’s fun watching you worry.” Taehyung tilted his head, his voice softening for once. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Because you’re mine. The words nearly slipped out, but Victor swallowed them.

Instead, he grabbed Taehyung’s wrist, noticing the faint scars that peeked from under his sleeve. His chest tightened. “What the hell is this?”

Taehyung froze. For a moment, his bratty mask cracked. “Nothing.”

Victor’s anger flared. “Don’t lie to me.”

Taehyung yanked his arm back, eyes flashing. “Why do you care? You don’t own me, Victor. You don’t get to demand answers.”

But Victor’s voice was a low growl, possessive and raw. “I do care. More than I should. And if you think I’m going to let you destroy yourself, you’re wrong.”

Taehyung’s lips parted, a mix of defiance and something softer flickering in his gaze. “You’re obsessed with me.”

Victor leaned closer, their foreheads almost touching. “Damn right I am. And you better get used to it, because you’re not running away from me.”

For the first time, Taehyung didn’t fight back. He just whispered, “Then catch me, Victor. Because I like making you burn.”

And that was the beginning. The spark that would ignite a fire neither of them could put out.

The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, painting the room in soft gold. Taehyung’s body ached, every inch of him marked by Victor’s unrelenting passion. His wrists still bore faint red lines from being held down, and his lips were swollen, reminding him of the previous night’s fire.

He tried to shift away from the heavy arm draped over his waist, but Victor’s grip tightened immediately, as if his body instinctively refused to let Tae go.

“You’re not running anywhere,” Victor’s low voice rumbled against Tae’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Taehyung pouted, hiding his face into the pillow. “I wasn’t running. I just… wanted some space.”

Victor chuckled darkly, pressing a kiss to Tae’s bare shoulder. “Space? Baby, you lost the right to that when you moaned my name like a sinner begging for forgiveness.”

Tae’s cheeks burned crimson. He hated how easily Victor could reduce him to a blushing mess, even when his heart screamed that he should resist.

“Y-You’re too much,” Tae whispered, his voice soft, fragile.

Victor tilted his chin up, forcing Tae to meet his piercing eyes. “And you love it.”

Tae’s lips parted to argue, but no words came. Because deep inside, he knew it was true. The way Victor touched him, owned him, looked at him like he was the only thing in the universe—it was intoxicating. It was terrifying. And yet, he craved it.

Victor brushed his thumb across Tae’s lower lip, pressing down just enough to make him whimper. “Tell me the truth. Do you regret last night?”

Taehyung’s chest tightened. He could lie, tell Victor that it was all a mistake. But his heart betrayed him, beating wildly as his lips formed the words he feared most.

“…No.”

Victor’s smirk was dangerous, victorious. He leaned down, kissing Tae with a slow, consuming hunger that made him forget every ounce of resistance he once held.

But the peace didn’t last.

Later that afternoon, Victor’s phone buzzed with a call. His sharp expression returned as he answered, his voice curt and commanding. Tae sat quietly on the couch, hugging a pillow, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and unease.

“Don’t let him leave town. Handle it,” Victor snapped before hanging up.

Tae blinked. “Who was that?”

Victor’s jaw clenched, his dangerous aura seeping into the room. “Nothing you need to know.”

Taehyung frowned, his bratty side surfacing. “You can’t just say that and expect me to stay quiet. What are you hiding?”

Victor stalked toward him, grabbing his chin firmly. “Careful, Tae. You’re mine, but that doesn’t mean you get to question me.”

Tae’s eyes glistened with defiance. “Then maybe I don’t want to be yours.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Victor’s gaze darkened, but instead of anger, there was a flicker of fear.

He lowered his voice, almost broken. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

Taehyung’s breath caught. For the first time, Victor looked vulnerable—like the thought of losing him was a sin he couldn’t bear.

Victor’s hands trembled slightly as he cupped Tae’s face. “You don’t understand, baby. You’re my sin, my obsession… my salvation. If I lose you, I’ll lose myself.”

Tae’s heart stuttered, torn between fear and longing. His voice cracked. “Then prove it. Prove I’m more than just something you own.”

Victor’s lips hovered over his, his eyes burning with desperation. “I’ll prove it every damn day if I have to. But don’t you dare think of leaving me, Taehyung. Because if you do…” His grip tightened, possessive and unyielding. “…I’ll drag you back, no matter where you run.”

Tae’s breath hitched, but instead of pulling away, he leaned into Victor’s chest, clutching his shirt with trembling fingers.

Because despite everything—despite the danger, the obsession, the fear—his heart whispered the cruelest truth of all.

He didn’t want to escape.

Not from Victor.

Not from his sin.

Victor:Did You think you could walk away after teasing me like that, brat?

TAE: (smirking) maybe I like seeing you mad, baby. You look hot when you're angry.

victor: ( grabs his wrist tightly) don't play with fire, tae . I'm not patient with you .

TAE: ohh....but you are soft for me , aren't you ?

I can make you melt with just a smile 😊

Thank you for reading

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Well I share with you one secret ....

Me was so happy yesterday morning to afternoon but from evening to till now I'm not good ... I don't feel good ....

Owned by My Sin

Part 3

The night pressed against the old mansion like a suffocating shroud. Every corner whispered with shadows, every flicker of candlelight seemed to burn with hidden hunger. tae had thought he could escape for a while, breathe freely, but he had been wrong. There was no escaping Victor… and no escaping the pull that chained him to him.

tae reflection in the cracked mirror looked fragile, too pale. tae lips trembled as he pressed the blade gently against his skin. A sharp sting followed, the thin red line blooming across his wrist like a poisonous rose. It wasn’t death he sought—it was silence. Silence from the endless war inside his—between hate and desire, between the sin Victor represented and the twisted comfort he found in his presence.

The door creaked open.

“Stop.”

His voice was low, deadly, yet not out of anger—out of something else. Something darker. Victor stepped in, his tall frame drowning the room in shadows. His black shirt clung to his chest, tattoos peeking from the edges like secrets carved into flesh. His lip piercing glimmered faintly as his jaw tightened.

taehyung froze. The blade slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor.

Victor was in front of his in seconds. He grabbed his wrist roughly, forcing his wounded skin into the light. Blood trickled down, and his dark eyes—cold to the world but molten for his—burned with rage.

“Do you think pain will save you from me?” he whispered, his voice husky, broken, dangerous. “Do you think cutting yourself will cut me out of you?”

Tears stung his eyes, but he bit his lip, refusing to answer.

His grip tightened. “Answer me, taehyung”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his innocence tangled with defiance. “Maybe pain is the only thing I can control… because I can’t control you.”

Something flickered in his eyes—jealousy, madness, possession. He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “You’re right. You can’t control me. But don’t you dare destroy yourself. Your pain belongs to me. Your body, your blood, your sin—” his lips brushed her ear, sinful, cruel, “—all mine.”

A shiver ran down his spine. His heart screamed to push him away, but his body betrayed him . Heat coiled low in his stomach, shame mixing with desire.

“Victor…” he whispered, half a plea, half a curse.

His thumb smeared the blood across her wrist before lifting it to his lips. He kissed the wound as if sealing it with his hunger. The sight alone was sinful, blasphemous—and yet he couldn’t look away.

“You think anyone else could touch you like this? That anyone else would dare to taste your pain?” His lips curved into a cruel smirk. “No. Only me. And I will never let you forget that.”

A sob tore from his throat. “Why me? Why are you doing this to me?”

His eyes darkened, a storm of obsession. “Because the first time I saw you, I knew you were born for my sin. You walk in light, but you belong in my darkness. I will burn every man who looks at you. I will carve my name into your soul until nothing remains but me.”

His body shook, torn between horror and craving. The way his words dripped with violence, the way his touch claimed his even in his brokenness—everything about him was a prison he couldn’t escape.

Victor tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet his gaze. His lips hovered above his, but he didn’t kiss him. He made him beg with silence, made him tremble with anticipation.

Jealousy burned in him even now. He remembered the boy at college who had smiled at him , dared to sit near him . The image had haunted him all day, fueled the rage in his veins. He wanted to kill. He wanted to make him bleed. He wanted to make him his.

“Look at me, taehyung,” he ordered.

He wide, tear-stained eyes met his.

“You belong to me. Not to their laughter, not to their kindness, not to their hands. Only mine. If you ever let anyone touch you again—” his hand slid to his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp, “—I’ll remind you who owns you. Even if I have to break you into pieces and put you back together with my hands.”

A twisted part of his heart ached with longing. Why did his cruelty feel like salvation? Why did his possession feel safer than the world outside?

His lips parted, trembling. “Victor… you’ll ruin me.”

He smirked, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath ragged. “That’s the point, little sinner. You were never meant to be saved.”

And then, finally, his lips crashed against hers—hungry, punishing, desperate. The kiss tasted of blood and sin, of everything forbidden. His tears mixed with his desire, and he realized with horror… he was kissing him back.

tae blade lay forgotten on the floor.

But the real danger was already inside his—his name, carved into his veins like a curse he could never escape.

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