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The train car was packed tight, bodies swaying with the rhythm of the rails as it rattled through the city. Jungkook stood near the middle, one hand gripping the overhead bar, the other cradling the heavy swell of his belly. Eight months along, cherry scent thickened by pregnancy, sweet and ripe enough to turn heads even in the stale air. His oversized hoodie did little to hide how full he was, round and low, feet already aching in his sneakers. His husband had kissed him goodbye that morning, scenting him soft and safe with that familiar bond bite on his neck. Now he just wanted to get home without anyone bumping into him too hard.
A tall guy in a black coat pressed in close behind him—Namjoon. Cigarette smoke and something sharper clinging to his clothes. Jungkook tried to shift away, but there was nowhere to go. The train jerked around a curve, and Namjoon’s hand settled on his hip like it belonged there.
“Easy, omega,” Namjoon murmured low, voice rough, right against his ear. “Crowded today.”
Jungkook stiffened. “Don’t—”
The hand slid lower, palming the curve of his ass through his sweatpants. Fingers kneaded, possessive, like he was testing how soft he’d gotten. Jungkook’s breath hitched, cheeks burning. He glanced around, but everyone was in their own world—earbuds in, eyes on phones. No one noticed.
Namjoon’s palm pressed firmer, rubbing slow circles. “Fuck, you’re pregnant and still smell like fresh cherry pie. Husband’s a lucky bastard.” His fingers dipped between Jungkook’s cheeks, pressing the fabric against his hole. “Bet you’re wet already, huh? Pregnancy makes omegas so fucking needy.”
“Stop… please,” Jungkook whispered, voice shaking. He tried to pull forward, but another body blocked him—Seokjin, broad-shouldered, charcoal scent cutting through the air like burnt wood and dominance. Seokjin didn’t say anything, just stood there like a wall, facing outward, pretending to scroll on his phone while boxing Jungkook in.
Namjoon’s hand slipped under the waistband of Jungkook’s sweats from behind. No hesitation. Rough fingers found bare skin, traced the cleft, then pushed one thick digit right against his hole. Jungkook was slick—damn pregnancy hormones—and the finger sank in easy.
“Ah—fuck, no…” Jungkook bit his lip hard, tears already pricking his eyes. The stretch burned a little, but his body betrayed him, more slick leaking out around Namjoon’s knuckle.
“Shh, quiet,” Namjoon breathed, pumping the finger slow and deep. “You’re sucking me in, pregnant boy. So greedy.” He added a second finger, scissoring, curling them against that spot that made Jungkook’s knees tremble. The train noise covered the wet sounds, but Jungkook could hear them—filthy, obscene.
Seokjin glanced back once, smirking. “Keep him steady, Joon. Don’t let the whole car see what a slut this mated omega is.”
Jungkook’s free hand flew down to grab Namjoon’s wrist, but he was too weak, too pregnant, too overwhelmed. Tears slipped down his cheeks. “I have a husband… please, I’m mated… stop touching me…”
Namjoon chuckled darkly, pressing his hard cock against Jungkook’s ass through their clothes, grinding. “Mated? That bite on your neck looks cute, but it’s about to get some company.” He yanked Jungkook’s sweats and underwear down just enough in the back, freeing his own cock. Thick, heavy, already leaking. He rubbed the head against Jungkook’s slick hole, teasing.
“No—no, don’t—people will see—” Jungkook sobbed quietly, body shaking.
Seokjin shifted closer, using his bigger frame to block the view perfectly, one arm braced like he was just holding the pole. “They won’t. Now take it like a good omega.”
Namjoon pushed in with one brutal thrust, bottoming out in Jungkook’s tight, pregnant heat. Jungkook’s mouth opened in a silent cry, fresh tears pouring down. The stretch was too much—cock way bigger than fingers, pressing right against his swollen insides, belly heavy between them.
“Fuck, so tight,” Namjoon groaned, voice low and wrecked. He started fucking him right there, slow deep rolls of his hips that looked like normal swaying to anyone glancing over. Each thrust shoved Jungkook forward a little, cock dragging against his prostate, making more slick drip down his thighs. “Pregnant pussy feels even better. Gripping me like you don’t want me to leave.”
Jungkook cried harder, biting his hoodie sleeve to stay quiet. “It hurts… please pull out… I can’t—my baby…”
But Namjoon only fucked him harder, one hand sneaking around to rub over the tight drum of Jungkook’s belly. “Yeah? Beg some more. Sounds pretty when you cry.”
Seokjin watched over his shoulder, eyes dark. After a few minutes, Namjoon pulled out with a wet sound, breathing hard. “Your turn, Jin. He’s nice and open now.”
They switched positions smoothly. Seokjin took the rear, charcoal scent flooding Jungkook’s senses as he shoved in without warning, thicker than Namjoon, stretching him wider. Jungkook’s legs shook violently.
“Ahh—stop! It’s too big—please, I’m begging you—” His voice broke into sobs, body jerking with every thrust. Namjoon now played shield, tall frame hiding everything, one hand casually on Jungkook’s shoulder like they were buddies.
Seokjin fucked him meaner, snapping his hips, balls slapping quietly. “Listen to you whining. Mated omegas always act like they don’t want it, but your hole is fluttering around my cock. Bet your husband doesn’t fuck you this deep.” He reached around, squeezing Jungkook’s swollen chest through the hoodie, milk leaking a little against the fabric. “Dirty boy.”
Jungkook’s legs gave out halfway through Seokjin’s turn. He slumped, only held up by Seokjin’s cock and their bodies pinning him. The train slowed for the station.
“Shit, he’s done,” Namjoon muttered, grinning. They pulled up his sweats quick, but Jungkook couldn’t stand on his own. Cum leaked down his legs as they dragged him off the train, one on each side, arms around his waist like helpful strangers. People barely glanced.
They hauled him straight into the station’s old, rusted bathroom at the far end—out of service, door half-broken, but they kicked it open anyway. The stall at the back smelled like piss and mold. They shoved him inside, locked the door with a click.
The bathroom stall door slammed shut behind them with a rusty screech, and Namjoon twisted the flimsy lock. The place was disgusting—faded piss stains on the cracked tiles, grimy floor that hadn’t seen a mop in years, a broken toilet with brown streaks, and a single flickering bulb overhead that buzzed like it was about to die. It smelled like old cum, shit, and mildew. Perfect.
Jungkook’s legs were still jelly from the train. He slumped against the grimy wall, breathing fast, tears streaking his flushed cheeks. His cherry scent had gone thick and panicked, mixing with the alphas’ cigarette and charcoal smells in a way that made the small space feel even smaller. “Please… just let me go,” he whispered, voice hoarse from crying on the train. One hand cradled his heavy pregnant belly, the other tugging uselessly at his hoodie. “I won’t tell anyone. I have a husband… he’s waiting for me…”
Namjoon laughed low, already shoving his coat off. “Husband’s not here though, is he? Look at you. All knocked up and leaking all over the place like a needy little whore.” He grabbed Jungkook by the hoodie and yanked him down hard onto the filthy floor. Jungkook’s knees hit the cold, sticky tiles with a wet slap.
Seokjin locked the door tighter and leaned back against it, arms crossed, watching with dark eyes. “Strip him, Joon. I want to see how ruined that pregnant cunt looks after the train.”
Jungkook tried to scramble back but there was nowhere to go. “No—no, don’t—please, it hurts already…” His voice cracked as Namjoon ripped the hoodie over his head, then dragged the sweatpants and soaked underwear down his legs in one rough pull. Cum from the train still leaked down his thighs, mixing with fresh slick. His swollen belly jutted out, skin tight and shiny, nipples dark and leaking tiny beads of milk onto his chest.
“Fuck, look at that,” Namjoon groaned, palming his own thick cock through his jeans before pulling it out again. It was still hard, veiny, glistening. “Pregnant omega pussy all puffy and used. Bet your husband’s dick is tiny compared to this.” He kicked Jungkook’s legs wider, forcing him onto his back on the dirty floor. The grime stuck to Jungkook’s skin immediately.
Seokjin stepped closer, unzipping. “On your side too. I want that ass up.” They manhandled him like a toy—Namjoon flipping him onto his side, one big hand pinning Jungkook’s thigh up toward his belly while Seokjin knelt behind him.
Jungkook sobbed openly now, fat tears rolling down. “Stop! Please, I’m begging you—my baby… my husband’s bite… don’t do this—” His voice broke into hiccuping cries as Namjoon pushed back inside him in one brutal thrust, stretching his already sore hole wide again.
“Shit, still so fucking wet,” Namjoon grunted, hips snapping forward hard. The sound was filthy—wet squelching every time he drove deep, balls slapping against Jungkook’s ass. “Cry louder, baby. Makes my dick throb.” He fucked him with deep, punishing strokes, one hand gripping the swell of Jungkook’s belly like a handle, the other twisting a swollen nipple until milk dribbled out.
Seokjin didn’t wait long. He shoved his thicker cock against Jungkook’s mouth. “Open up. Suck it while Joon breeds you.” When Jungkook kept crying and tried to turn away, Seokjin grabbed his jaw and forced it open, pushing inside. “That’s it. Choke on alpha cock, mated slut.”
Jungkook gagged hard, throat bulging around Seokjin’s length, drool and tears mixing as he was rocked between them. His pregnant belly jiggled with every thrust, the dirty floor scraping his hip and shoulder raw. He kept moaning brokenly around Seokjin’s cock—“mmph—please—stop—hurts—” but it only made them rougher.
Namjoon slapped his ass hard, leaving red marks. “Fuck, you’re clenching every time you beg. Love breaking little married omegas like you.” He reached down and rubbed Jungkook’s clit roughly, making the omega twitch and leak more despite everything. “Gonna fill this cunt again. Knock you up even fuller.”
They switched after a while. Seokjin pulled out of his mouth with a wet pop and took Namjoon’s place between Jungkook’s legs, slamming in so deep Jungkook screamed. “Too big—ahh fuck—pull out, please, I can’t take it—” His voice was raw, cracked from crying. Seokjin just laughed and fucked him harder, grinding against his prostate until Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.
Namjoon took his turn face-fucking him, cigarette scent heavy as he held Jungkook’s head still. “Swallow around it. Good boy. Your husband teach you to suck cock this well or did you learn on the side?”
The stall echoed with wet slaps, broken sobs, and low alpha groans. Jungkook’s body betrayed him again and again—more slick, more twitching, belly tightening as unwanted pleasure mixed with the pain. They flipped him onto all fours at one point, his pregnant belly hanging low and brushing the filthy floor while they took turns pounding him from behind.
By the end Jungkook was a mess—voice gone hoarse, body limp, cum and slick puddling under him on the dirty tiles. Namjoon came first, burying deep and pumping rope after rope inside him. “Take it all, pregnant bitch.” Seokjin followed right after, growling as he filled him even more, so much it started leaking out around his cock immediately.
They weren’t done. While Jungkook lay there shaking and crying softly, they leaned over him. Namjoon went for the left side of his neck, right next to the fading husband bite. Sharp teeth sank in hard, claiming. Jungkook screamed, fresh tears exploding. “No—no, not the bite—please, my mate—”
Seokjin bit the right side at the same time, deeper, meaner. The new mating bites burned immediately, alpha scents flooding into his bloodstream, clashing violently with his husband’s mark. They licked over the fresh wounds, sealing them with possessive growls.
“Looks better with our bites on him,” Seokjin muttered, zipping up.
They stood, straightening their clothes. Jungkook lay naked on the filthy floor, legs spread, cum pouring out of his abused hole, belly marked with handprints, neck now sporting three bites. His cherry scent was completely drowned in cigarette and charcoal.
Namjoon smirked down at him. “Tell your husband we said hi.”
Seokjin tossed a last look. “Stay there and leak for a while, omega. Maybe someone else will find you.”
The lock clicked. The door slammed. Their footsteps faded.
Jungkook curled up on the dirty floor as best he could, one arm around his belly, sobbing quietly into the grime. Cum kept dripping out of him. The new bites throbbed hot against his skin.