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Jumin's lips are wrapped around Saeran's cock.
"Attaboy, sweet kitten." Saeran cooed, running his hand through Jumin's dark locks. He grinned at the glare the businessman was giving him, gun pointed to his skull to threaten him— one bite, one scrape of teeth, and boom, headshot. Jumin's stomach churns, bobbing his head back and forth, allowing the younger man to throatfuck him.
Jumin was on his hands and knees, making Saeran relish in the sick joy he felt. Oh, this was amazing. "Such a good boy, aren'tcha?" He teases, rubbing the gunhead to his skull, adoring the way he tensed under the firearm. Jumin scowled, hating every single second of this— his tongue flicked around his cock, despising the way his stomach twisted and the way his skin grew hot. The scent of musk hits his nose, making Jumin want to vomit, but he sucks off Saeran, anyway.
"Aww, look at you," he chuckled, merciless with his teasing. Fuck, he was exactly like his brother, but more depraved, erratic to the point where he recognized this wrong, and he got off on that, judging by the tent in his pants. "You're disgusting," Jumin mutters under his breath, unable to stop Saeran from rutting his hips, fucking into his throat.
"Oh, what was that?"
Jumin tensed, coughing when Saeran's hips bucked to shove his cock deeper inside his mouth. "I said, you're disgusting—" The gun pressed harder.
"Are you forgetting who has a loaded gun here, Jumin?"
Still, he glared, but continued on with the blowjob. Saeran's cock was thick, almost struggling to swirl his tongue around the base, to lap up the sides and then twirl around the head. He couldn't believe he was doing this, wanting to cry from the humiliation he was experiencing, but he went on, until he was deepthroating him again.
"Ahhh, fuck, that's it." Saeran groaned, playing with Jumin's hair again. Everything about this felt fucking phenomenal, cock twitching with the rush of power swimming through his veins. "You're such a pretty slut, Jumin. I just know everybody would love to see you like this." He said in a sing-a-long voice, brushing the gun through his hair lazily. God.
This was depravity in its rawest form- and Jumin kept sucking, going weak in the knees. He felt filthy, felt disgusted with himself for allowing Seven's younger brother to take control like this. He gagged everytime Saeran began thrusting.
"What would she have to say about this?" Saeran smirks, amused with the way Jumin's eyes widen before his brows furrow. "She isn't apart of this." He gags between every snap of his hips, Saeran's cock being shoved deeper in his mouth. "Ahhh, but she would think you're adorable like this, wouldn't she? Or maybe she'd cry, seeing how pathetic you've become with a cock in your mouth." He giggled like a child.
Jumin coughed and choked, his brain swimming with haze when Saeran facefucked him. The gun remained pressed against his skull, forcing him in a role of submission he despised— but it was true, wasn't it?
Eventually, the disgust got the better of him, and before he could swallow, he vomited on Saeran's cock, choking harder than before as he puked all over his length. Saeran just smirked. "You truly are a filthy whore."