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The first thing Jimin notices when he wakes up, is that 1) he’s not in bed and 2) his mouth is incredibly dry. Coughing out the feeling of sandpaper in his mouth, he instinctively twists to cover his mouth.
But he can’t.
He’s bound.
And when he eventually gets his eyes, sticky and heavy from sleep, to open, he can only see blackness.
All too quickly, panic bubbles up in his throat and his pulse is rising as he thrashes around, frantically trying to budge something, anything so he can get free.
Fuck fuck fuck what the fuck?!
His thick muscles strain desperately against what seem like leather cuffs, and after a good while of futile pulling, shaking and wriggling – all Jimin can really do his lift his hips up.
The panic starts to bubble even stronger and then turns into somewhat acceptance of the situation.
Can’t move. Ok. Think, Jimin, think!
He tries to properly gauge what his position is like. His feet are definitely on the ground so he’s not upside down, thank god. His wrists and ankles are cuffed down to the arms and legs of the chair he’s in. Whoever did cuffed him did a good job. Too good of a job, because he can feel the straps digging into his flesh.
Just as Jimin starts to contemplate jumping in the chair to somehow shift his whole body with the chair (kinda stupid, but hey, worth a shot), he hears a door creak open.
Footsteps.
Jimin instinctively turns his head to follow the noise, which is a mistake – Jimin thinks for a second too late that he could’ve tried to pretend he wasn’t awake yet. Dammit.
“Ah you’re awake now~”
The clack of shoes speeds up and Jimin senses the person is quite close to him now.
“Hmm. I did a pretty good job cuffing you up, wouldn’t you say?” His voice is rather low in register, and flows smoothly, thick like honey.
Jimin is lost for words. He has absolutely no clue what this person is like. All he can really feel is his heart jammed at his throat, hammering away rapidly in fear.
The man chuckles. “Shy little thing, aren’t you?”
Jimin startles at the gentle touch along his jawline, the warmth of the fingertips on his neck sending a dreadful shiver down his spine. The hand touching him grabs his chin to push it sideways, then up and around back down again. It’s like he’s being admired like a piece of meat, to be devoured. Wariness roils in Jimin’s stomach.
“But you won’t be shy by the time I’m done with you.” The whisper makes the hair on Jimin’s neck stand, the feeling of another person’s breath on his ear making him coil, the threat making him want to shrink inwards.
In short, he’s terrified.
He’s frozen, unable to move even if he wanted to – at the complete mercy of a stranger. Trying not to breathe too heavily, he can barely swallow down the hard lump in his throat.
“Aww, poor baby. So scared.” He coos. Jimin’s feels a brief surge of defiance flash through his chest. “Don’t worry.” A warm hand strokes Jimin’s thigh. “I’ll be gentle.”
Jimin stops breathing for a second. What the hell’s that supposed to mean?!
A cackle of laughter jolts him out of his fear, the guffaws slowing his heart rate down a fraction. A tiny part of Jimin’s mind hopes that maybe, just maybe this might not be so bad after all.
The hearty laughter dies down after a while. The man sighs, still chuckling a little.
“Ahh, shit. Even I wouldn’t buy that! HA!” He breaks out into another round of chortles.
Jimin’s heart stops and then picks up double time.
Shit. I’m stuck with a maniac. The fucked-up kind. Fuck.
As Jimin’s thoughts start to spiral into to despaired incoherency, a hand grabs his jaw.
“Hey.” Jimin doesn’t comprehend this, just starts to thrash around in a panic.
A palm hits his cheek hard, the slap ringing in his ears.
“Hey! Pay fucking attention to me.” The stranger growls. Jimin feels a whimper pulled reluctantly from his mouth.
“Now I’ll be very kind and let you know that I like to use knives. Other people like to have their toys and whatnot, but knives…” Footsteps tell Jimin the man is pacing around the room.
He sighs. “Ah, knives. They do the trick so beautifully.” The pacing stops.
“Guns, effective, yes. But knives – just the way they feel on your skin, and how it gets all messy and -- “ Jimin feels a large hand on his throat – firm, but not choking.
“We can both really feel what’s going on.” The grip on his neck tightens. Jimin’s sure the man felt the scared hitch in his breath. The hand comes up to palm his cheek and what comes next is not entirely unexpected – but the tenderness of the kiss throws him off. The lips are gentle and his tongue seeks entrance into Jimin’s mouth. Jimin is too frozen to do anything, so he just lets him in.
If he wasn’t so fucking scared, he’d say the man is a good kisser.
The second kiss is deeper, slightly rougher. Jimin tries to stay passive, to not rile up his captor any more than necessary, but the heat of his tongue intoxicates Jimin, and he doesn’t quite find the self-control to hold back from leaning towards the man. The hand on his thigh is warm, heavy in its grip. It slides up to palm at his crotch and Jimin stiffens.
No.
He doesn’t want to be fucked, not like this. Not by a stranger, god no. This is...sick.
Disgusting.
Jimin starts to struggle in earnest now. The cuffs bite into his skin, red welts forming over his ankles and wrists. The chair creaks as he frantically shakes and writhes and tries anything to get out, bucking up desperately in whatever way he can. His limbs are sore, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to get the fuck out of here, and go home.
“Oh for god’s sake. Stop moving so much!” Jimin hears an impatient hiss against his ear. It makes him struggle even more.
Oof. The unexpected weight of the man straddling his lap shocks him for a moment. Heavy.
“Can you feel that?”
The voice cuts through the blind panic and he comes enough to his senses to realise there is a blade held up against his throat.
Now Jimin is too frightened to do anything but whimper. He doesn't even swallow for fear of pushing his skin too hard against the razor sharp edge of the knife.
“Good. Now be a good boy for me.” The voice drops down an octave. “You don’t want to find out what happens to bad boys, do you?”
A harsh tug on Jimin’s hair makes him yelp, and he can feel the knife being pressed even closer.
“Answer me.” He growls. “Will you be good for me?”
Jimin barely manages to whimper out a yes. He feels the hot sting of tears spill over onto his cheeks, throat blocked with fear, as his captor unzips his pants to palm at his cock. It’s horrible, how he’s somehow become half-hard from this ordeal.
“Oh don't cry.” The man coos at the sound of Jimin’s pitiful sniffling. “Shhh. Don’t cry.” He thumbs at the tears running down Jimin’s face, making gentle shushing and cooing noises. The comforting sounds turn into a low, menacing chuckle. Jimin can hear the grin spreading on the man’s face.
“Don’t cry…Because it turns me on even more.” The man whispers, voice tinted with lunacy, into his ear.
Jimin feels his gut drop. Unavoidable despair, intermingled with arousal, spreads through him.
The stranger continues to stroke his cock, thumb teasing the sensitive slit of the head.
“I knew you were a great catch when I first saw you in the club. Those tight leather pants…God, how you were grinding all over the dance floor.” He murmurs throatily into Jimin’s neck, fondling at his balls. Jimin can’t help gasping at the sensations.
“Fuck, you're such a slut for this aren't you? A stranger touching you – yet you're all hard and leaking for me.” Jimin shakes his head, face screwed up in simultaneous denial and pleasure.
The warmth around his dick is gone, and Jimin feels a hand on the back of his head. He feels himself being pushed down to lean forward.
“Open your mouth.” He commands. Jimin refuses to obey.
“Open your fucking mouth.” The cool metal of the knife against his skin, as well as the dangerous growl that he hears make Jimin’s heartbeat race, but he still doesn’t open his mouth.
Smack!
Jimin reels from the slap, cheek stinging.
“I said, open your fucking mouth. I will not hesitate to stab the shit out of you.”
Shivering, he lets the man yank his mouth open, and to his horror, feels the heavy warmth of a cock sliding in. Jimin tries to do a decent job of accommodating the large cock - the threat still fresh in his mind, slurping and licking whenever he can without gagging too much. His jaw aches and tears leak from his eyes from the exertion but he tries as best as he can. His muscles are tight, tense and scared but the moans he hears gives him the tiniest sense of ease. At least he seems to like it.
“Ohh, yes. These lips were meant to suck my cock.” The man starts thrusting even harder, hands fisted hard in his hair, and Jimin can only stay still and try not to choke or think too much about the burn in the back of his throat.
“You love it, don’t you? Sucking my cock, taking it so well. What a whore.” The rooms is filled with slurps and whimpers and groans – it makes Jimin feel filthy.
‘Mmgrnph.” Jimin, muffled by the thrusts of the cock, tries to object – he’s not a whore! But the only sounds coming out from his mouth are grunts and garbled words. It tastes salty, tastes of precum, and smells like sweat and even though it’s all gross and despite his instincts, a small voice in Jimin’s head tells him – yeah, I kind of actually…like this. His cock gives a twitch at the thought.
The hands on his head tug hard at his air, and Jimin slides off with a lewd pop, heavily gasping and swallowing for air. He hears a groan and a few moments later, his ankles are suddenly free. Flexing and wriggling his feet automatically, his cock is suddenly gripped firmly, and the pressure startles him to attention.
“I’ve uncuffed your feet. You try anything, and this knife won’t be clean anymore, I promise you.” Though quietly muttered, the threat is real. Jimin gulps down the trepidation in his throat. His leather pants are peeled and yanked down, down, down and then off, hips brought forward as the man lifts his legs up.
Now he’s open and utterly exposed, ass facing upwards and legs spread wide open.
He hears a low groan.
“Look at you, all spread nice and wide for me.” Jimin’s cock involuntarily twitches. A finger, slick with lube, traces his hole and probes in. As the finger is worked in and out, the stranger presses his other hand tightly around Jimin’s neck and leans in to kiss him. Tongues brushing heatedly, Jimin feels his heart rate picking up, the low burn of arousal spreading through his gut. He feels a second finger wiggle in.
No way in hell Jimin should be turned on but he’s panting and gasping for more touches, wriggling to take the fingers in deeper.
“What do you want, hmm? My slut.” The words are thick with desire and power.
No matter how much Jimin arches up, the fingers barely touch his prostate – he is desperate.
“Say that you want it. Say it.”
“Please.” Jimin sobs out.
“Please what?” The fingers stop. Jimin writhes.
“I want it…” Jimin whines.
"Louder."
“I want you to fuck me!” Jimin cries out, burning with shame at how needy he’s become.
The man lines up his cock and slides in and fuck it hurts, but it feels so gooood.
“Take it. Take my cock.” His low snarls mingle with Jimin’s loud moans. “That's all you're good for - taking my cock, you useless slut.” It’s dirty, but somehow, he likes it when he’s being called a slut, heat coursing through his veins and straight to his dick.
It's utterly humiliating but the pleasure is too much, sharp spikes of ecstasy shooting up his spine from his prostate being repeatedly rammed.
He tries to bite back his moans, to not give the man any satisfaction of pleasure but he can't help the squeaks and whimpers slipping out of his mouth, or the way he instinctively squeezes around the thick cock pounding into him, chest heaving in ecstasy.
Suddenly he feels the other man reach over and the harsh cold steel on his neck freezes Jimin up.
"Don't hold back. I wanna hear you, uhn, moan for me…Moan like the fuckin’ slut you are."
He whines, the word slut going straight to his dick. Pleasure takes over and the fear that had been all pervasive in his mind and body now fades into background noise. Jimin slowly, composure slipping, lets himself enjoy being fucked. Fiery pleasure shoots through his veins like some intoxicating drug, quivering as every thrust rams his g-spot. Jimin can’t find it in himself to care about the loud wails and grunts coming out of his mouth.
“Hah. I'd pegged you for a screamer.” His captor pants, hips rolling deeply into Jimin. “Making all those delicious noises for me, hhnh yes.”
The man lifts Jimin’s right leg even higher, and the angle is just right – and ohh, yes yes YES white heat bursts under Jimin’s closed eyelids. His jaw hangs open and a long, throaty moan spills out. Jimin can’t help it.
"Hhngrh yes yes. Such sinful, hah, lips. Enjoying being raped like this, haha. Filthy whore!”
Jimin doesn’t even comprehend the words. He just relishes how the person slams even harder into his hole whilst moaning and belittling him those obscene words. The heat surges almost agonizingly, thighs trembling, his hole squeezing and clenching. The tide of pleasure swells higher and higher and –
“Cum for me.”
And despite the guilt of enjoying this - being humiliated, shamed - the heat in his gut becomes unbearable and he's crying out and cumming in hot white spurts all over himself. It’s just too amazing to do anything but arch up and grip the chair so hard his knuckles go white, and hope he doesn’t explode into a million pieces from the intense pleasure.The stranger keeps fucking into him hard, making Jimin convulse and jerk frantically. He feels, and sounds utterly wrecked. Hearing Jimin's abandoned wailing and the sensation of Jimin’s desperate clenching over his cock sends the captor over the edge – the wet warmth filling his hole making Jimin groan.
* * * * * *
“Jimminie.” The low murmur of his name pulls Jimin up from the darkness of sleep. Eyes blinking blearily, he sees the ceiling of his room swim into view.
A dream…?
“Jimin-ah. You alright?” Taehyung’s voice, low and pleasant, is laced with concern.
Forcing his eyelids, despite heavy and sticky with sleep, to stay open he spies the chair with leather straps hanging loose and a blindfold. Then he looks down at his naked body, wrists and ankles scarred with pink marks and it all comes rushing back. He has a vague recollection of thoroughly enjoying Tae’s gentle touching and comforting praise after being moved to the bed, slowly cleaning him with a soft towel – but not of falling asleep.
I guess it must have been too amazing, enough for me to pass out.
“You did so well.” Tae murmurs into his neck. They’re a bit of a tangle of limbs, really – Tae’s that kind of cuddler. But it feels so warm and comfortable that Jimin is mighty tempted to doze off again.
“It felt so good. So amazing. Tae-tae, you know you’re amazing, right?” Jimin sighs.
Taehyung chuckles. “No, you’re the amazing one for coming up with this idea!” Tae nuzzles into Jimin’s arm. “I really wasn’t sure when you first brought up fearplay but…” Jimin can feel the smirk on his skin.
Oh yes. Definitely a good idea.
They stay like that, content to just breathe and bask in the afterglow with each other through this lovely moment.
“Happy Valentine’s day, Jiminnie.”