Owned by my sin⁴

 My Sin

Part 4

The room reeked of smoke and sin. The kind that clung to the walls, heavy, suffocating, intoxicating. The moonlight filtering through the half-drawn curtains painted Taehyung’s pale skin in a ghostly silver. He looked like temptation wrapped in fragility, sprawled on Victor’s bed with wrists bruised from the grip of restraint.

Victor stood at the foot of the bed, shirt unbuttoned, his chest marked with scars of old battles and fresh bites—the traces Taehyung had left in his desperate rebellion. His lips curved, not in warmth but in possession.

“You don’t know how beautiful you are when you’re broken like this, Taehyung.” His voice was low, husky, edged with a darkness that made Taehyung’s stomach tighten.

Taehyung’s breath shivered. He hated how his body reacted, arching slightly, craving, even when his mind screamed no. His voice cracked, soft but laced with defiance.

“Let me go, Victor… I can’t—”

Victor’s sharp laugh cut through the air. He stepped closer, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. With each step, the tension coiled tighter until it felt like the air itself would snap. He crouched down, his fingers brushing against Taehyung’s chin, forcing him to look up.

“You can’t?” Victor tilted his head, mocking. “Or you don’t want to admit that you don’t want to?”

Taehyung’s lips trembled. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His pride warred with the sinful craving burning through his veins. Victor always did this—pushed him past the edge, until his heart bled with guilt yet his body screamed for more.

Victor’s thumb pressed against the cut at Taehyung’s lip, a wound from their earlier clash, and Taehyung winced. The taste of copper lingered as Victor leaned closer, his mouth brushing against the injury in a mockery of tenderness.

“You hurt yourself trying to fight me, hm? Always so stubborn. Always tearing yourself apart rather than admitting you belong to me.” His words were a whisper against Taehyung’s lips, soft yet cruel.

Taehyung closed his eyes. A single tear escaped, sliding down his cheek, betraying him.

Victor’s jaw tightened. He hated seeing weakness in Taehyung, but at the same time, he craved being the only one allowed to see it. His hand slipped around Taehyung’s throat—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him. “Don’t cry for anyone else. Don’t bleed for anyone else. Your pain is mine. Your sins… mine to own.”

A silence stretched. Thick. Suffocating.

Taehyung’s voice broke it, trembling yet sharp.

“Why me, Victor? Why do you want me so much when all I do is hate you?”

Victor’s laugh was soft, dangerous. He pressed his forehead against Taehyung’s, his breath hot.

“Because hate is closer to love than indifference, darling. And you could never be indifferent to me.”

The night spiraled into sinful madness. The sheets tangled, skin against skin, breaths stolen. Taehyung hated every moment he surrendered, yet in those same moments, he was alive in a way he couldn’t deny. Every bruise Victor left was a reminder, every kiss an ownership mark written in fire.

But beneath it all, something darker coiled inside Victor—jealousy.

Earlier, Taehyung had smiled. Not at Victor, but at someone else. A stranger in the bar. Just one fleeting smile, but it had burned Victor’s insides raw, fanning flames he couldn’t control. He had dragged Taehyung back here, rage pouring into every kiss, every grip.

“Don’t you ever,” Victor hissed as his hand pinned Taehyung’s wrists above his head, “look at another man like that again. That smile belongs to me. Your eyes belong to me. Hell, Taehyung—your soul belongs to me.”

Taehyung’s chest heaved, breaths erratic. His body trembled under Victor’s weight. His voice was broken, a whisper but cutting like glass.

“You don’t own me…”

Victor’s laugh was cruel, sharp enough to draw blood. His lips descended again, claiming, punishing. “Then why do you let me in every time? Why do you burn when I touch you? Why do you ache when I pull away?”

Taehyung shut his eyes, wishing he could vanish, wishing he could erase the sinful pull tying him to this man. But Victor was right. Every time he tried to run, he came back. Every time he tried to fight, his body betrayed him.

And that truth destroyed him more than Victor ever could.

Hours later, silence fell heavy. Taehyung lay curled beneath the sheets, his back to Victor, his shoulders shaking in quiet sobs he tried to hide.

Victor lit a cigarette, smoke curling upward in lazy spirals, his eyes fixed on the trembling figure beside him. Something inside him twisted. He wasn’t blind to the scars on Taehyung’s arms, the ones not all made by him. He wasn’t blind to the nights Taehyung clawed at his own skin when he thought no one was watching.

“Don’t hurt yourself again,” Victor’s voice broke the silence, low but commanding.

Taehyung stiffened. He didn’t reply.

Victor leaned closer, his lips brushing Taehyung’s ear. His words were dark, filled with possessive desperation.

“If you ever dare to bleed without me, I swear, I’ll make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

Taehyung flinched. A part of him wanted to scream. Another part wanted to surrender. The conflict tore him apart, even as Victor’s arms slid around his waist, pulling him in like a possession, a treasure locked in chains.

The night bled into dawn, where sin and love blurred until neither man could tell the difference.

Thank you have a nice day

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