you think the devil has horns?

by sub_jimin

Summary:

The assailant's grip on Jimin's chin tightens.

"Is that what they teach you at journalism school?" he snorts. "Here's what I think the viewers want," he continues, yanking at Jimin’s shirt with brute force, causing buttons to pop off and scatter across the ground. "I bet they would love to see their sweetheart reporter gang raped and humiliated live on TV for the whole country to witness. A sight for the ratings."

🔪

 

The camera man's voice echoes in the silence, counting down from three before a bright red light flashes on the camera, signaling that they're now live on air. The news anchor, Jimin, takes a deep breath and begins his report. 

"Good evening, Korea. This is KNN News, and I am your host, Park Jimin. We're coming to you live from one of the most notorious and dangerous areas of Gangnam," Jimin's words carry an edge of caution as he speaks. His eyes dart around nervously as if expecting something to jump out at them at any moment. "Reports have been flooding in about the increasing uncertainty within these streets." 

He pauses for a moment, giving weight to his next words. "Several individuals have vanished without a trace in the past few weeks, leaving their families desperate and confused. Despite ongoing investigations by the police, progress appears to be bleak." His voice falters slightly, conveying the severity of the situation to their viewers.

As he continues speaking, distant sirens wail in the background, serving as an eerie, haunting soundtrack to the grim news report.

Suddenly, off-camera, a commotion arises. Jimin cuts off mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he twists around to survey the scene unfolding behind him. "Wait—," Jimin starts, lifting a hand up to silence his earpiece as he squints into the darkness of the alleyway, trying to discern what’s going on.

The camera pans away from him and zooms in on the alleyway just in time for viewers at home to witness the appearance of multiple figures; shrouded in darkness and emerging from the depths of the alleyway. A gasp tears from Jimin's throat as he steps back instinctively, the camera shakily following his movements.

The strangers, with their faces hidden by shadows, begin to move deliberately towards them. Their pace is slow and measured, a stalking predator closing in on its prey. 

Jimin, caught in the sheer horror of it all, feels his heart pounding in his chest as he speak to the people watching from home. "There appears to be... a group of people coming out from the alleyway.”  He manages to say, struggling to keep his voice steady. 

The flickering streetlight barely illuminates them, casting ominous shadows that seem to writhe with menace. 

The leader of the group steps forward, and a glinting object catches the light: a knife. Jimin's heartbeat thunders in his ears as he slowly backs away, only for another figure to step out of the shadows, blocking their van and cutting off their escape route. Trapped like rats, fear permeates through the broadcast team.

The figures close in, silent but for the haunting echo of their footsteps echoing off the cobblestone alley. The sound is amplified by the microphone, filling living rooms across the country with an abhorrent taste.

Jimin continues to narrate, his voice trembling. "I—, uh—, don't know what's happening. They've surrounded us." He swallows hard, forcing his words out against the knot of fear in his throat. "There's about five— no, six of them. They—, they have knives.”

Suddenly, the leader lets out a chilling laugh, a sound like ice scraping against stone, sending tendrils of terror through Jimin's veins. The man steps into the light and slides his hood off. He’s wearing a mask, covering his mouth and nose, but the dark gleam in his eyes is nakedly chilling. 

The masked man raises the knife, the streetlight glinting cruelly off its shiny surface. "Viewer’s discretion is advised." He rasps with a malicious glee, and a cold wave of dread washes over Jimin.

And then he lunges at the camera man, stabbing into his stomach. The camera jerks violently, the screen swaying as the camera man crumbles to the ground. Jimin’s panicked screams pierce through the night air, captured in the microphone and transmitted live out to millions of viewers.

His voice breaks as he forces himself to continue reporting. "They're attacking us...oh God...they're..."

Leaning over the fallen camera man, the man picks up the camera as his laughter fills the alley. "Hi there audience," he sneers, turning the broadcast lens towards his face. His eyes gleam through the slits, cruel and cold. ”This is your prime time entertainment.” he continues. His voice, an icily calm contrast to the chaos behind him, fills the airwaves. 

The masked man pauses to let his words sink in before he turns the camera back towards the camera man, lying in a pool of his own blood, in evident pain. He clutches at his wounds helplessly, body trembling from cold fear and the icy grasp of impending death.

"You see, ladies and gentlemen," he drawls slowly, chuckling as he observes his desperate attempt to hold on to life. "This is what happens when you poke your nose into things you shouldn't be."

He points the camera at Jimin who has paled to a spectral white, his breaths coming in shallow gasps, along with the terror evident in his eyes. "Aw, look at the nation’s sweetheart reporter," the assailant taunts, his voice dripping with unkind amusement. "Don’t like being a part of the story rather than just reporting it?”

He moves the camera closer to Jimin's face, bringing his terror-stricken expression into sharp focus. The cruel taunts elicits a whimper from the terrified reporter as fear has crippled Jimin's tongue.

The masked man leans closer, forcing the camera's lens into Jimin's terrified face. "Why so silent, darling?" He mocks. "Cat got your tongue?"

With a defiant glare, Jimin strikes at the camera. But the assailant is prepared and pulls back, letting out a bark of laughter that echoes around them. 

Instead of offering mercy, the attacker zooms into the pleading reporter's tearstreaked face. "Oh, you're not loving this exclusive coverage on your station?" he teases mercilessly. "I thought you loved being in the spotlight, Jimin."

Under that horrifying scrutiny, Jimin croaks out a plea. "Please... Stop this..." 

But the masked man merely laughs, a sound that grates against Jimin's ear drums. "No can do, darling," he drawls, sounding pleased and yet utterly remorseless. "You should say something to your loving audience, they’re waiting." He leaves the camera focused on Jimin's face, capturing every grimace, every tear, every tremble.

He cups Jimin's face with a harsh grip, turning it to face the camera as he does so.

Jimin trembles with fear and anger, his voice shaky as he stammers out harsh words in a desperate attempt to intimidate the masked man in front of him. "You...will be...caught...and...pay." he whispers fiercely, his eyes blazing with determination.

But the assailant simply bursts into a cruel cacophony of laughter, the men standing around him joins in on his horrid mockery. Their cruel amusement sends shivers down Jimin's spine, intensifying his already heightened senses. 

"And who's going to do it? You?" The masked man sneers, jabbing the camera lens towards Jimin. A single red light blinks in sync with Jimin's frantic heartbeat.

"Justice always prevails," Jimin manages to spit out, despite the weight of their contemptuous laughter. “The one’s watching will ensure you'll be brought to justice for your crimes."

The assailant's grip on Jimin's chin tightens. "Is that what they teach you at journalism school?" he snorts. "Here's what I think the viewers want," he continues, yanking at Jimin’s shirt with brute force, causing buttons to pop off and scatter across the ground. "I bet they would love to see their sweetheart reporter gang raped and humiliated live on TV for the whole country to witness. A sight for the ratings."

Jimin gasps, both at the harsh tug and the utter shock that seeps into his veins from the words that spill from his attacker's lips. His heart pounds inside his chest like a drum, his breath short as though he's just run a marathon. “N-no—, please.” he sobs out, tears brimming in his eyes and spilling down his cheeks, creating a trail that glistens on his skin. 

"Cry if you wish. Scream for mercy," his attacker's voice mocks, high and mirthful. "It will make no difference."

Jimin's breath hitches, swallowing hard as he tries to mentally steels himself for what’s to come. He clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. “Y-you can’t—“

“Seokmin, take the camera.” the man says as he stands up, ignoring Jimin’s cries completely. “Make sure to get every detail. We can’t have the audience at home miss a single thing.”

“Fuck, Jeongguk, this will be so good.” he laughs as he takes a step back to widen the shot before moving closer to Jimin again, filming his tear streaked cheeks and his nipples that have hardened from the cold breeze biting at his skin. 

The masked man turns back to Jimin, an evil smirk twisting his features. "Have at him, boys.” 

They all scramble forward, ripping at his clothes as Jimin screams, a sound so raw it causes the birds in the nearby trees to fly away in terror. Hands are everywhere, tearing and grabbing, invading his personal space. He fights, tries to keep them at bay, but he's outnumbered. His arms feel heavy as if weighed down by boulders, their laughter echoing in the cold afternoon air.

"No, no—," he cries again, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Please."

But they don't listen. All they do is laugh louder. With every ripped bit of clothing tears fall harder from his eyes and he cries louder till his voice is nothing but a feeble croak.

“Fuck, film this.” The assailant, Jeongguk, laughs mockingly, “His cock is so tiny you’d think he’s a girl.”

The camera focuses in on his cock and Jimin sobs, his body shaking as his humiliation is broadcasted for all to see.

"Pepperoni nipples and a cocktail sausage," another quips before everyone delves into more laughter. “Does it even work?”

Jeongguk engulfs his hand around Jimin’s cock, beginning to stroke it with a tight, unyielding grip. Jimin's writhing body can't help the reaction, and he cries out in both terror and an illicit thrill, making the men laugh harder.

"Look at that, it does work!" Jeongguk smirks, keeping his gaze locked onto Jimin’s face. “You like that, doll?

Feeling another wave of tears trickle down his cheeks, Jimin shakes his head furiously, but his betraying body responds to the touch. The masked men jeer at him, making a confusing mix of pleasure and shame course through his veins. The salacious laughter rings in his ears as he tries to drown out their mocking words. 

Jimin's eyes burn with humiliation as he spits out, "You're nothing but beasts!" However, the words that escape his lips do little to mask the forced pleasure wracking his body.

Jeongguk smirks wider. "Maybe," he acknowledges, "But you're the one enjoying this, doll."

Jimin can only whimper in response, his body trembling beneath their cruel touch. A wave of nausea rushes over him as they all take turns touching him. Hands slide over his chest and stomach, lingering where they shouldn't. His breath hitches and he shuts his eyes tight, unable to watch as they continue their ruthless game of debasement.

The camera continues rolling, the red light a constant reminder of his shame being committed to film forever. The broadcast captures every squirm, every tear, every plea for mercy that goes ignored. The camera does not flinch, does not sway; Seokmin keeps his hand steady as he documents the sickening spectacle.

Soon their fingers travel lower, probing and prodding at his hole. The grotesque violation that they find amusing only amplifies his diluted dignity. He grits his teeth, attempting to stave off the whimpering cries threatening to escape his lips.

"Look at him," Jeongguk hisses, amusement dancing in his cruel eyes. "He's enjoying this way too much."

Unable to hold back the onslaught of sobs overcoming him, Jimin's body shakes with intensity driven by pure terror, disgust, and shame. He cringes as one of them touches him again, a cruel hand sliding up his thigh.

"E-enough—" he chokes out between sobs, the words barely audible. Yet no attention is paid to his pleas; they continue prodigiously, stripping away the last remnants of his dignity.

Trying to retreat from the offending fingers, Jimin squirms against his constraints, but it does nothing. They’re all over him. Two have his nipples in their mouths, sucking and biting harshly. Another two have stripped off their pants and made Jimin put his hands on their cocks, making him jerk them off to their utter delight. He wants to throw up, vomit coating the back of his throat; but he knows that it would only serve to increase their sadistic pleasure.

Jeongguk is relentless. He descends upon Jimin with a gleam in his eye, pushing him further into the abyss. His whisper is icily cool, "You're such a good little plaything for us, doll. You’re a star.” Jeongguk taunts, his words chilling as they dance across Jimin's ears. 

Jeongguk’s long fingers are inside of him, stretching him open in a way that feels incalculably wrong. The camera comes so close, catching every movement of Jeongguk’s fingers as they move in and out of him.

He wishes their touches didn’t feel so good on his flesh, his body responding too eagerly to their invasive claims on him. Each touch sends a shock wave of pleasure through him, even when every fiber of his being screams at him to reject them, to resist. 

Instead, he finds himself pushing down onto Jeongguk's fingers, hating the moans that spill from his lips. "Please," he whispers with a voice so frail it's barely there, "please, stop."

Then, he feels the microphone probing at his hole, the metallic coldness a stark contrast to the warmth of their hands on his skin. He tries to clench, to deny them access, but the breezy laughter is a cruel reminder of his futile struggle. 

"Shh, doll," one of them coos, pressing against him with a persistence that sends waves of sickness through his trembling form, "you'll love this."

“Say you like it." Jeongguk commands, voice dripping with sickening sweetness at Jimin's pain. "Tell us you want it here."

Tears well up in Jimin's eyes, spilling over his lash line and running down his face in hot rivulets. The wetness on his cheeks is a testament to his anguish. "I..." he stammers, voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongguk leans closer, his breath ghosting over Jimin's ear. "Say it," he repeats, the order leaving his lips in the form of a harsh whisper. He increases the pressure of the microphone against him, threatening to invade him further.

Jimin chokes on a sob as white-hot pain tears through him. His surroundings begin to spin, blurring figures and faces into an indistinguishable mass, but the violation remains vividly real. His plea echoes weakly through the haze, "Mhmm... no, please…"

”Stop fucking crying.” Jeongguk says as he grabs at Jimin to make him turn around, presenting his ass for all to see. 

Another sob ripples through Jimin, seeped in a bitter cocktail of humiliation, devastation, and despair. He jerkily draws in a breath, feeling the cold air sting the wet tracks on his cheeks.

He can see the camera coming closer, so close to his most private parts. ”Such a pretty little hole, hairless as if you were just hoping and waiting to be gangbanged.”

Jeongguk spreads Jimin’s cheeks further apart, making Seokmin zoom in even closer. Every single flutter of Jimin’s hole is forever immortalized on film. ”Were you waiting, doll? Is this what you hoped would happen when you waxed yourself?”

The microphone pushes deeper. Fire lances through him, a white-hot agony that is more cruel than any physical wound. His vision swims, stars blooming in the black, eliciting a pained whimper that echoes hauntingly.

”Did you make yourself wet at the thought of us stripping you bare, leaving you exposed for the world to see?” Jeongguk’s tone is sharp, slicing through Jimin’s already fragile sanity.

Jimin's world spurts red as his muscles clench at the intrusion, a whimper breaking free from his parted lips. He can taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, his bitten tongue another casualty in his futile struggle. His stomach churns, the disgusting voyeuristic gaze magnifying his humiliation. His skin crawls, as if trying to shed itself off his bones and hide from the probing camera and the accusing words.

“Answer me, doll!” Jeongguk’s voice cuts through the thick fog encasing Jimin. The teasing tone is a sick contrast to the icy touch of the microphone and the humiliating position he’s been forced into. More bile rises up, but he swallows it back down along with his self-pity.

His mind spins, reeling back in denial, but his voice fails him. The words stick in his throat, merging with the bile rising within him. The taste of his fear is metallic and bitter at the back of his tongue.

He feels his skin stretch further as Jeongguk moves the microphone, pushing at his limits. No, he hadn’t wished for this. No, he hadn’t dreamt of this. But they wouldn't understand, wouldn't hear him. 

The microphone is pushed completely inside of him, using it as a dildo. He can feel something drip, and he knows it has to be blood, yet no part of him can find the strength to object. 

"Does it feel better now, doll?" Jeongguk asks as if he cares, a grotesque parody of concern. He twists the microphone within Jimin, making him whimper in pain and his pulse to throb in his ears.

“I wonder what the viewers think of their nation’s sweetheart now.” Mingyu says, as they move the microphone quicker inside him, his body convulsing as the pleasure intensifies, each wave stronger than the last. ”That he’s just a little faggot who loves to spread his hole for anyone who looks in his direction.”

The violation of the microphone inside of him put on camera, along with their words strikes at Jimin's core,

The camera captures it all, relentless and unyielding. It captures the sobs wracking through his body, the trembling of his hands, the pathetic whimpers that spill from his lips with every breath. 

“Feel it, Jimin.” Jeongguk insists, voice a sickening rasp against his ear, the microphone moving within him to the rhythm of his words. “This is what you wanted, isn't it?” He all but purrs, the microphone pushing in and out of him with devilish precision. 

Jeongguk's hand grabs his tiny cock again, his laugh sharp and cruel in Jimin's ear. "Look at you," he taunts, "Loving it even when you said you wouldn't."

"S-stop," Jimin tries again but is quickly cut-off as another wave of shocking pain washes over him.

Jeongguk withdraws the microphone, only to slam it back in with more force. Jimin gasps, legs trembling as they push him further onto the cold ground.

"Oh, you're precious," Eunwoo jeers from his side.

Jimin’s mind spins with each thrust of the microphone, his world reduced to the burning pain and also, somehow, a twisted pleasure. He doesn't want this—hasn't asked for this—but his body betrays him, tightening around it with every vicious movement.

"N-no more… please," he begs again but the words come out all wrong. It is no longer a command, but a desperate cry drowned out by the sound of his own moans and the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat in his ears.

“Yugyeom, can you shut him up,” Mingyu says. “For fuck’s sake, how much can one man bitch?” 

They turn him around easily, making the microphone shift inside of him as they lay him on his back again.

Yugyeom approaches his mouth with his cock, a cruel smirk on his face mirroring the one on Mingyu's. 

"My pleasure," Yugyeom replies, sliding his cock in between Jimin's parted lips. The taste of him is bitter, the flavor swirling in Jimin's mouth. He groans, a molten heat pooling in his belly as the microphone dives deeper into him.

"Choke on it," Yugyeom chuckles, rocking his hips forward, feeding more of himself into Jimin, silencing his cries and pleas for mercy. Mingyu's raucous laughter fills the air as he plays with his nipples, pinching and pulling until more tears well up in Jimin’s eyes.

Each thrust from Jeongguk with the microphone against Jimin's prostate draws a moan out of him that gets muffled around Yugyeom's cock.

“Imagine how many people are watching you right now. How much they are enjoying this. Your pretty cries, your desperate pleas. The nation’s darling.” Jeongguk taunts, an added layer of disgrace for Jimin to swallow down. “Bet they’re jerking themselves off to you getting gangbanged, bet they’ve dreamed of seeing you like this."

Jeongguk's words plunge into Jimin's chest, far deeper than the microphone and Yugyeom's cock. His humiliation is now a public affair, an amusement to others, abused and dominated for everyone's pleasure. Even worse is the realization of the growing pleasure within his own core, wracking him with guilt and shame.

And then he comes, he spurts all over his belly, the heat and stickiness making him flinch. 

“Pathetic.” All of them laugh at his release. “Who the fuck comes to a microphone in their ass?”

"Look how red his face is," Jeongguk laughs, the microphone is pulled out and swiftly replaced by Jeongguk’s big cock pushing into his vulnerable hole. He tries to brace himself, but his cock is bigger than the microphone, much thicker and Jimin chokes on a barely suppressed sob.

And then it happens again. 

He comes once more with a broken whimper as a wave of mortification ripples through him. 

“You came just from me putting my cock inside you?” Jeongguk laughs with a cruel delight, his voice dripping with mockery. "You really are a cock slut."

The words echo in Jimin's ears. Cock slut. He has heard it before, behind closed doors, whispered amongst his colleagues, his so-called friends. He had always brushed it off, always wore a façade of confidence to ward off the snide remarks and insulting whispers. 

But here, now, with the entire nation watching, the word held an undeniably harsher sting.

Jimin has never felt humiliation like this before.

Jeongguk starts moving at a quick pace, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside as he fills him to the brim. There’s a stinging sensation around his hole— the microphone must have completely injured his flesh. 

Blood and cum is mixing together, dripping down his thighs sickeningly. 

Jimin's body reacts instinctively, each muscle clenching and unclenching as the sharp burn continues to increase around his violated hole. His breath hitched, every nerve ending alight with pain as he instinctively bucks against the cold ground, trying futilely to find some relief from the overwhelming sensations crisscrossing his body. 

“Look at his face,” Yugyeom comments smugly as if Jimin wasn’t there, the focus of their collective pleasure. “He loves it.”

No, I hate it, he wants to say. Hates how good it feels and how much he craves it. His body betrays him, arching into the touch, craving more, needing more, though his heart screams against it— screams of betrayal, of disgrace. As Jimin’s mind whirls in a torturous cyclone of shame and yearning, he cannot help but clench around Jeongguk, drawing a low moan from his tormentor.

"We should DP him, really give the audience something to gawk at.” Jeongguk suggests. 

He can hardly believe what he's hearing, but before he can protest, the decision is made.

A strangled groan tears its way out of Jimin’s throat as Jeongguk turns him over again, with his cock still lodged inside of him. 

He has Jimin straddling him as Jaehyun comes up behind him, his cock hard and ready. He angles himself, lining up with Jeongguk, the head of his cock teasing Jimin’s entrance where Jeongguk’s big cock is already fully buried. 

“Zoom in on this shit.” Yugyeom tells Seokmin, who— with a devilish grin, eagerly complies. The camera closes in on the spectacle, casting it in harsh light. It intensifies the humiliation, spotlighting the shame and pleasure battling within him.

The first push is agonizingly slow, using the blood as lube and pushing past Jimin’s limits, stretching him to accommodate the girth of two. He feels overfilled, probably splitting apart at the seams as Jaehyun sinks deeper inside of him. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun grunts as he sheathes himself completely inside Jimin.

A wave of blinding pleasure crashes over Jimin as both cocks push against his walls in sinfully delicious rhythms.

His chest heaves, head thrown back as the pain and pleasure overwhelms him. He feels every inch of them moving within him, so carefully yet so crudely, that it sends shivers of both agony and ecstasy down his spine.

"What a fucking slut." Jeongguk growls, gripping Jimin's hips with a bruising force. 

Jimin's face flushes as mortification and pleasure sets his senses ablaze, as they move in tandem in and out of him. His world narrows down to the rhythmic thrusts and the all-consuming pleasure brutally wringing from him. 

"Look at him, taking us both like a pro." Jaehyun muses, his voice barely more than a strangled whisper. He pushes in harder, earning moans from Jimin as he sobs in pleasure.

“Mingyu, put your cock inside his mouth too.” Mingyu looks over at the two of them, an amused smirk playing on his lips. He saunters over, eyes glinting with dark intent. 

Jimin turns his crimson face towards him obediently, mouth open and panting as he struggles to keep up with the pace Jaehyun and Jeongguk are setting. It's sensory overload— every nerve ending screaming in delight at the stimulation, so much so that he barely notices Mingyu until he feels the hot slickness of his member against his lips.

"Open up." Mingyu commands, voice husky. His fingers thread into Jimin's hair, gripping onto it tightly as he guides himself to Jimin's gasping mouth.

Jimin convulses around both men as Mingyu pushes himself deep into his waiting mouth. His body goes taut, the sensation too much, too cruelly perfect.

"Look into the camera, doll." Jeongguk instructs, then. “Show the audience how much you love having three cocks inside you at once.”

Jimin complies without thinking, it's easy to obey when his body is singing underneath their touch , when every nerve is sparking and tingling. 

He finds the camera with hazy vision. The red light on it blares and blinks like a beacon, a stark reminder that the world is watching.

"Say hi to the audience," Jaehyun voice coaxes, the tone making Jimin shiver as the words cascade over him— hot, heavy, slathered in implications.

"Mingyu, let him breathe," Jeongguk’s voice cuts in, raspy from exertion. Mingyu pulls back reluctantly from Jimin, leaving his mouth free to form words.

Mingyu tugs harshly at his hair, pulling Jimin's gaze up to the camera, he looks straight into the lens before speaking up, voice shaky. "H-hi," he gasps out, wincing at the tremor in his tone. His voice makes the others chuckle darkly.

"Tell them how you feel, doll." Jeongguk orders next. 

“I... I feel...” Jimin stammers, drooling down his chin. There’s a heat spreading across his face, warm with the attention of all men on him and the knowledge that countless others are watching them too.

"Amazing," Jeongguk fills in the silence. “Don’t you, Jimin?”

“Y-yes… amazing,” Jimin confirms, unable to stop the moan slipping through his swollen lips as Jeongguk chooses that moment to make a particularly daring thrust.

Mingyu’s fingers tighten in his hair. “Say thank you. Thank you for fucking you like this in front of all of South Korea.”

Jimin finds himself nodding furiously. “Thank you,” he whispers directly into the camera. “Th-thank you, f-for —ah,— fucking me.”

"Good boy," Jeongguk praises softly before Jaehyun thrusts into Jimin with renewed vigor, coupled with Jeongguk's matched rhythm causing Jimin to moan loudly, the sound vibrating through the live feed.

His eyes flutter open and lock back onto the camera's lens from beneath heavy eyelashes. The sight of him, stretched as he is between them, being watched by thousands of unseen eyes— must be a sight to behold.

"See, the camera loves you." Mingyu purrs, thrusting into Jimin's mouth again, relishing in the muffled moan that slips out past his lips. He lets out a groan of his own, his hand under Jimin's jaw helping him take more of him.

Jeongguk wraps an arm around Jimin's waist, securing him in place as they pound into him simultaneously. The sensation is so overwhelming that his vision blurs momentarily. 

His hands are filled with two more cocks. He doesn’t even know where they came from all he knows is that they need his attention too. His fingers wrap themselves around the unfamiliar shapes as he takes in the bulging veins and throbbing hardness of them. 

He moans around the cock in his mouth, his eyes rolling back from all of the sensations he’s feeling. Mingyu’s grunts progress into low growls, his hand tightening on Jimin's frame as the pleasure builds higher. The sight, so raw and primal with the constant stimulation, is indeed something to behold. 

Suddenly, Jeongguk manages to angle himself just right and every thrust hits that one spot that makes Jimin see stars. His eyes well up and he releases a choked whimper around Mingyu’s length, the vibrations causing him to shudder. 

The two cocks in his hands begin throbbing, their owners' breath hitching as they near their climax. Jimin quickens his pace, his hands gripping them like a lifeline as he rides waves of pleasure crashing down on him.

Jeongguk is relentless, each thrust causing a rising tide of ecstasy that threatens to overtake Jimin and wash him out to sea. "That's it." he grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of Jimin's hips as his rhythm increases.

Before long, the sensations take over and a storm of pleasure engulfs Jimin, rippling throughout his entire body. The tension in the pit of his stomach explodes, sending shivers down his spine. All he can do is moan into Mingyu's length as he's hit with the powerful climax.

It’s too much. Everything is too much. The men around him, fingers digging into his soft flesh, their gruff voices whispering praises and desires into his ears— even as the camera continues to capture every tremble and whimper.

The others can’t hold back either. The strong grip of Jimin’s hands and his desperate pleads push them over the edge, filling the alley with ragged groans and gasps.

Mingyu comes into Jimin’s mouth then, his grip on Jimin's head impossibly tighter. "Oh fuck—," he groans.

Jimin swallows reflexively as Mingyu shudders above him, the man's body quivering with the sheer force of his release. The taste is strong and salty, but Jimin can’t focus on it when the other men are still thrusting into him.

Jeongguk and Jaehyun follow soon after. Their thrusts turn erratic, a clear indication that both are about to come. Yugyeom and Eunwoo thrust into his hands vigorously, their grunts echoing throughout the alleyway. 

Then, Eunwoo spills over Jimin's small fingers, his warm seed coating his hand. Yugyeom follows shortly after, the two men riding out their climaxes together as their groans fill the air.

The others then take turns raping his holes, until he is reduced to a shivering, drooling mess on the ground. 

They go for second rounds, third rounds—, he doesn’t know how many. He blacks out. Consciousness comes in sporadic waves. He's not sure where he is, or what's happening. 

All he knows is pleasure. Searing pleasure that invades every fibre of his being. A groan slips past his chapped lips. His hands shake with the effort of supporting himself against the ground.

Once they are spent, they withdraw from Jimin one by one, leaving him in a state of delirious satisfaction. His body is trembling from exertion, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin.

With lidded eyes and a slowing heartbeat, he looks towards the camera devouring his every move: capturing every shiver that shake his frame, every noise that forces itself out of him. The residuals of pleasure are still visible in Jimin’s puffed red lips, flushed, tear-streaked cheeks and glazed eyes.

All of them stand around Jimin in a semi-circle, filming him as he lies in pools of cum and blood. They laugh mockingly. “Park Jimin, the nation’s sweetheart, reporting to you live from the dangerous Gangnam underground.” Jeongguks mocks. 

The camera zooms in closely on Jimin’s face: his flushed cheeks, his half-closed eyes, and the mixed cum and blood seeping out of his gaping hole.

Eunwoo nudges Jeongguk with a wry grin. "You reckon the public enjoyed it?" He jokes, kicking slightly at Jimin’s leg. 

He laughs when Jeongguk shrugs noncommittally, adjusting himself in his pants. He rolls his shoulders with an audible pop. "I reckon we gave them exactly what they wanted.”

"Do we bring him back to ours?” Jaehyun asks, casting a sidelong glance at Jimin’s motionless figure sprawled out on the ground.

Jeongguk grins in return, replying in a casual tone, "Why not? The old toy is boring now that we’ve broken him. We could use a new one."

Jeongguk bends down, his fingertips lightly brushing against Jimin's sweat-laden forehead. The soft touch pulls a shiver from Jimin's body. “Would you like to be our newest sex doll? 

Jimin doesn't respond, his body too spent and mind too foggy to comprehend the question. He's still floating in post-orgasmic bliss, the words only pinpricks against his daze. His following nod is more a twitch of his head than an actual conscious response. 

Jeongguk chuckles lowly seeing that, moving his hand down to stroke Jimin’s cheek affectionately. "Good boy." he murmurs, thumb gently sweeping across flushed skin. 

Eunwoo takes a step forward, camera turning to Jeongguk, speaking out to all of Korea watching. “This has been KNN live, reporting from the Gangnam underground. We've unlocked new boundaries tonight folks, and broadened Korea's horizons; sweetheart Park Jimin displaying a performance no one will forget anytime soon."

There's a pause in which Jeongguk raises an imperious eyebrow at the camera. "Now, excuse us," he says with a sardonic smile. "We should give our new toy some proper maintenance."

The camera flicks off abruptly, leaving the men in semi dark solitude, broken only by the neon lights in the grimy alley way.

"Poor thing looks completely out of it.” Jaehyun speaks softly in the awkward silence, looking down at Jimin with an unexpectedly compassionate gaze.

Jeongguk scoffs as he catches sight of Jaehyun's concern. "Don't ruin it with your sympathy." he snaps back.