Dumb slut

The night is cold. A lot colder than Jimin had expected.

He regrets his decision of wearing shorts as soon as he leaves his apartment, but he was just so hot. His AC broke down right as he went to turn it on, the scalding heat of a July afternoon turning his skin sticky. He barely survived the day, with no one available to come fix it sooner than next week, trying to cool off his body with cold showers and ice cream. But the inevitable happened – he ran out. And Jimin was nothing if not stubborn. He writhed in his bed for a long time, his skin covered in a thin layer of sweat and hot to the touch, until he couldn’t take it anymore. All he could think about was his favorite red bean ice cream and how badly he wanted it. So, in the spur of the moment, he got out of bed and was out the door as soon as he slid his shoes on.

What he didn’t take into consideration is how chilly it could get at night. The wind bites at his exposed legs and makes him wrap his arms around his torso in some form of self-protection, walking faster to reach the convenience store down the street. At least the short walk alleviates his burning skin and he sighs in relief at the feeling.

The store is relatively quiet, only a bubblegum kpop song circling around through the speakers. Jimin looks around. He seems to be the only one on a late-night hunt for snacks to quell his cravings. With a short bow in the cashier’s direction, he makes his way to the back of the store, already knowing exactly what he’s looking for.

As soon as he reaches the fridge section, his skin prickles with goosebumps, running his hands up and down his arms in a pitiful attempt at warming himself up. He should’ve definitely thrown a hoodie on. Behind his back, he can hear the bell chime as someone else enters the store, but he’s too focused on looking through the fridge to turn around.

Strike number one.

He bends forward, trying to find the ice cream he’s craving, but it just won’t seem to catch his eye. All Jimin can think about is how upset he’s going to be if he doesn’t find it. His bottom lip juts out in disappointment, eyebrows furrowing together. Just like a little duckling, as his mother would say. He wants that ice cream so badly.

Raising on his tippy toes to look further back, he gasps softly in triumph. Samanco. He found it. With a wide smile pulling at his lips, he opens the door to the fridge and bends down to pick out the fish shaped ice cream, content with his finding. He can finally go back home.

Turning around, he tries to dash quickly for the front register, eager to eat his dessert on the way home, but he fails to realize there was someone already standing close behind him. In his clumsiness, Jimin crashes into another body, small hands raising up to steady himself against a strong chest, a meek yelp escaping through his lips. He thinks he somehow also manages to step on the stranger’s shoes. He looks up with wide eyes.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it surely wasn’t to be completely towered over by the person in front of him. His head has to tilt back in order to meet their eyes. And when they do, a huge lump suddenly forges its way up Jimin’s throat, instantly taking his breath away. He’s never really been one to acknowledge strangers, especially not dangerous looking ones. His mother always warned him, said that pretty and delicate boys like him should be careful. There are so many bad people out there that would love nothing more than to hurt him. He thinks he might be staring in the face of danger right now, and yet he can’t seem to look away.

The first thing he sees is big doe like eyes looking down at him, their beauty truly misleading, holding a certain roughness. They look as if they’re scrutinizing Jimin. He trails down the slope of the stranger’s nose, to a pair of heart shaped lips, that to his utter shame, he lingers on for a little too long, eyes locked onto a shiny lip ring. He lowers his gaze only to look at where his hands are resting on top of a hard and sturdy chest. There’s a pair of arms on his sides, fingertips digging into his hips to help steady him. The contrast between their arms makes Jimin's head spin for a second. They look strong, so much stronger than his, covered from knuckle to shoulder in dark ink, contrasting beautifully against pale skin.

“Easy, doll.”

Jimin gulps. The voice sends shivers running all the way down his spine. He should’ve known it sounded like nothing but trouble from the beginning.

In a sudden frenzy, he pulls back, as if he had been burned, and clutches his ice cream tight to his chest. The eyes that follow his every move narrow. It takes him a while to gather his words.

“I-I’m sorry.” He stutters, digging his fingernails into his palms when he hears his lisp slip through the words. It only happens when he’s nervous.

He knows he’s being analyzed. The tall stranger’s eyes run over his body from head to toe, with seemingly no shame in doing so. Jimin’s knees knock against each other in his attempt to bundle up and make himself smaller. The ice cream feels cold in his hands. Jimin’s whole body is cold. He wishes he was back home right now.

The sly smirk that pulls at the other’s lips unsettles him deeply. “Pretty.” He thinks he imagines the word coming out of his mouth. It seemed so real though. Jimin definitely needs to go home.

“E-Excuse me.” He apologizes, stepping to the side, almost tripping over his own two feet in his haste to get away.

He knows the eyes still follow him as he quickly walks away. He can practically feel them burning a hole through the back of his skull. He doesn’t dare look back. Placing the ice cream on the counter with shaky hands, he tries to calm down his labored breathing. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he frowns and fumbles inside of them, coming up empty handed. He forgot to bring his wallet. Shit.

The young girl at the cash register sends him an unimpressed look as he turns his pockets inside out, muttering a quiet “no, no, no” when he realizes his stupid mistake. In his rush to settle his craving, he forgot the most important thing; the money he was going to use in order to do that. He sheepishly looks up.

“Um, I-I kind of forgot-”

There’s an arm reaching out from behind him, slapping a pack of gum on the counter. Jimin jumps in surprise, holding back an embarrassing squeak. It’s the same tattooed arm from earlier. The eyes are a lot more cunning this time, holding Jimin’s wavery gaze as he speaks.

“I got it.”

With a gulp, he can’t seem to look away as he hears the sound of the cashier scanning the pack of gum along with his ice cream. There’s an odd feeling running through his body and he can’t seem to shake it off. As beautiful as the man towering over him looks, there’s just something about him that unsettles Jimin deeply. Their intense eye contact does nothing to ease his nerves.

The guy’s mouth is curled in the same lazy smirk it had been earlier, hand still leaning on the counter in front of them. He looks to the left, not meeting Jimin’s eyes as he speaks.

“You like cherry, sweetheart?” Jimin has no idea how to respond to that.

He thinks he nods through his confusion, watching as the man reaches out and plucks a lollipop from the bowl sitting on the side, sliding it across the counter along with his card. Cherry flavored lollipop. Jimin exhales shakily.

He’s handed his ice cream as soon as the payment goes through, the ping of the POS ringing loudly in his ears. Grabbing it with shaky hands, he gives a low bow, his hands slippery, either from the condensation on the packaging or from the sweat on his palms. He can’t tell.

“Thank you.” He whispers, throat too dry to speak any louder.

There’s a hand on the small of his back and he lets himself be guided outside the convenience store, the chilly air of the night hitting his skin once again. He steps to the side, trying to subtly scoot away from the touch, because it unsettles him too much. Turning around, the stranger is once again not meeting his eyes, staring down at Jimin’s exposed legs instead. He can feel his cheeks flush, reaching down for the hem of his shorts, trying to pull them lower, but to no avail. The man in front of him chuckles darkly.

“M-Mister, I don’t have any money on me. I-I can’t pay you back.” He stutters out.

“Jungkook.” The other speaks and Jimin bristles, the cool tone making his skin cover in goosebumps. “The name’s Jungkook. Although I do like the sound of mister.” He grins and if Jimin didn’t have this sheer fear running through his body, he might've thought he had a beautiful smile. “I said it’s on me, didn’t I?”

Jimin is a little perplexed at the stranger’s generosity, but he doesn’t want to linger any longer and question it. He’s just happy he finally has his ice cream and he can go home. That’s all he chooses to focus on.

“Well, thank you…Jungkook.” The smile on his face turns sinister when he hears his own name slip from Jimin’s mouth. “H-Have a good night.”

He turns to walk away, but there’s a tut of disapproval. It makes him stop in his tracks and look back in confusion.

“Don’t I deserve a name in return?” Jungkook asks, twiddling with the pack of gum in his hand. “It’s the least you can do, after all.”

Jimin’s cheeks heat up once more. How shameful of him. “J-Jimin. My name is Jimin.”

The smile returns. There’s a glint behind his eyes as he speaks out his name. “Jimin-ah. Pretty.”

Jimin is pretty sure he can feel himself grow weak in the knees. Not wanting to linger any longer, he gives another small bow and mutters a quiet farewell, before turning around and walking away. His fingers tremble around his ice cream. He doesn’t look back, but he can feel the eyes on him.

Strike number two.

When he rounds the corner to his apartment building, he starts to feel a little safer. Almost as if he’s out of danger’s way. Out of Jungkook’s sight. With a deep sigh, he opens the packaging of his dessert, hoping the sweetness will help calm down his rapidly beating heart. Taking a small bite, he tells himself that everything is okay. He isn’t in danger. No one is out to get him. He didn’t do anything wrong, why would anyone want to hurt him? His mind can play such nasty tricks on him sometimes.

Through the next bite, he can hear them. Footsteps. They start trailing behind him. His mouth hangs open, ice cream cold against his lips. It’s two in the morning. There’s no one else down the road besides him. The neighborhood is completely silent. It’s just Jimin’s labored breathing and another pair of footsteps a few feet behind him. His eyes are wide, just like a deer’s caught in the headlights, and his head starts filling with nothing but bad thoughts once again.

Danger, danger, danger. Run.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he bolts, ice cream falling to the ground, disregarded. He runs so fast he feels the strain of it in his thighs as he pushes forward, not stopping even when his lungs start to burn as he heaves through his panic. Despite the ringing in his ears, he can still pick them out. Another pair of footsteps, thudding loudly behind him. They’re getting closer. In his despair, Jimin can feel his eyes welling up with tears. He’s in danger.

His hands slip as they catch onto the door handle, body slamming into it painfully. He manages to pull himself together and opens it, the other person hot on his tail, footstep echoing loudly down the alley, making Jimin cry out in fear. He’s never been this scared in his entire life. With jelly like legs, he darts for the stairs, running them up two at a time. Through a stupid uncalculated move, he looks back in horror as he hears the door of the apartment building slam against the wall. That same dark gaze meets his. This time, there’s a wild fire burning behind those eyes. It looks like excitement. Jimin almost collapses when he sees those same lips curled into a wide grin, lip ring glinting in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Why are you running, Jimin?”

Jimin shrieks, scrambling to keep climbing the stairs. Just two more floors, he can make it. He can make it, it’s what he keeps telling himself. His legs don’t seem to agree with him though. He feels his knees buckle, hands reaching out to catch himself, desperately crying as he trips. His palms throb and he struggles to get up, but there’s a hand curling around his ankle, dragging him back down, knees thudding loudly as they hit the stairs. With a loud sob, he doesn’t even think before his leg flings back, kicking the man as hard as he can. He doesn’t know if he hits his chest or his head, all he hears is a loud grunt before he’s let go of and he runs up to the next floor as fast as his legs will carry him. Almost there.

But when he reaches his floor and desperately searches for his keys through his back pocket, he realizes the even greater danger he's just put himself in. Jimin ran home. The only place where he felt safe. And now, that safety is compromised. He led him right where he wanted. Where Jimin would be all the time. Laughter echoes in his ears.

“Oh, Jimin.”

Strike number three.

His fingers are slippery around his keys, hands trembling so hard that they almost slip out of his grasp, cursing out loudly when he shoves the wrong one in the key hole. With a scream of despair, he feels his heart beating all the way in his throat when he gets the right one in, front slamming against the door before he even gets the chance to twist the key in the lock.

“Got you.”

There’s a large hand slapped over his mouth when he screams out loud, his throat struggling to produce sounds through the dryness of it. The sheer terror running through him makes his body weak, completely collapsing into the arms holding him hostage. The key is twisted in the lock and suddenly the door to his apartment is pushed forward, along with his body, which falls to the ground with a loud thud. His knees feel battered and bruised, collapsing onto his front to take the pressure off of them. He tries to crawl, but to no avail. There are arms grabbing his legs, twisting him until he’s flipped over onto his back. He stares straight into the face of danger and he feels all the fight drain out of him.

“Where are you going now, huh? There’s nowhere left for you to run.” He feels his whole body tremble in fear at the patronizing tone, tears blurring his vision. The smile he gets in return seems to only grow wider with each tear Jimin sheds. “You’re all mine now, pretty.”

Jimin sobs, trying to kick his legs, but they get trapped underneath the stranger as he straddles his knees, pressing into the bruises that had already started to form, making him grit his teeth at the pain of it. His arms lash forward, trying to claw at anything they can reach; shoulders, chest, face, eyes. He stops when his head suddenly whips to the side, cheek stinging. The slap he receives instantly renders him silent.

“What should I do with you?” There’s a curious hum, Jimin’s dainty wrists locked in a tight grip above his head.

“W-Why-”

“It’s only polite of you, isn’t it? I do you a favor, you do me one back.” Jungkook speaks softly, way too softly in contrast to the way he’s treating him. He’s closer now, face hovering above Jimin’s. “It just so happens that I’d like you in return.”

Jimin sobs when there’s lips pressing harsh kisses down the side of his neck, the touch making his skin crawl. He can’t pull away from it. He screams out when teeth sink into his collarbone painfully, leaving a mark that is sure to last. His body struggles and struggles until he loses all power in his limbs, weakly trying to turn his head away, not able to bear the sight of his captor. There are still big fat tears rolling down his face, which only seem to spur the other on. His breath catches in his throat when he feels a tongue on his cheek, catching a fresh teardrop.

“So beautiful when you cry.” He breathes shakily when there’s eyes running down his body, taking in his disheveled appearance. “Going outside late at night in these skimpy little shorts. You’re just asking for it, aren’t you?” Jungkook laughs, almost as if he's mocking him. “You wanted a dirty pervert like me to get his hands on you.”

Jimin shakes his head desperately, biting down on his bottom lip to hold in a sob. He knows it would do nothing but please the man. He doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Suddenly, the pressure is alleviated from his throbbing knees and Jimin gasps, attempting once again to crawl away, but he’s too weak. He gets picked up by strong arms and, through the darkness of the apartment, he can tell he’s being carried to his bedroom. His heart threatens to break free through his chest as he gets thrown onto his bed.

“No!” He screams out, trying to kick his legs as he feels fingers slip underneath the waistband of his shorts, effortlessly pulling them down his thighs, letting them bunch at his ankles. Jimin tries to cross his legs, but to no avail. They’re pushed apart by forceful hands.

There’s a low whistle. “Would you look at that...” Embarrassment makes a crimson blush run straight through Jimin’s cheeks, the tears welling up once again. “Of course a pretty slut like you would go outside with no panties on. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?”

Jimin only cries harder. It had been hot - so hot. He wasn’t wearing any clothes in his apartment when he suddenly decided to run to the store. He just threw on whatever he could find and didn’t think twice about it. He regrets it so much now. He feels so exposed, down to his core, mortified at the thought of Jungkook seeing his most intimate parts against his will, violating him. He only squeezes his legs harder together, trying to hide himself, but the other man is now kneeling right between his thighs, blocking him from doing so. He is completely under his control.

His eyes widen in utter terror when there’s a hand trailing down his stomach, not hesitating before cupping Jimin’s pussy entirely, thumb pressing down onto his clit. He can only scream and beg. Beg for him to stop, to not do this, to have mercy on him. His words fall on deaf ears, the touch only growing more desperate, rubbing even harder. Jimin feels his stomach twist. The inevitable happens.

“Baby is enjoying himself, aren’t you?” Jungkook chuckles darkly, middle finger running through his folds, gathering up the wetness that had started to steadily gush out. Jimin feels nauseous.

“No, no, please!” He wails over and over, hating his body for working against him. He can’t possibly be enjoying this. And yet…

“Oh, so sweet when you beg.” Jungkook coos at him, the thumb on top of his clit starting to move in furious circles, making Jimin’s toes curl involuntarily. “Do it some more for me.”

“P-Puh-” Jimin takes in big gulps of air, hands still struggling to move in Jungkook’s hold, only one of his holding down both of Jimin’s. The power imbalance makes him dizzy. “Please, stop! D-Don't...”

“You’re telling me to stop, but your body is saying otherwise. What should I listen to, hm?” Jungkook taunts him, searing kisses pressing over Jimin’s wet cheeks, trailing down his jaw until his mouth reaches his ear. “I’ve always been one to believe in body language more than words.”

Jimin cries out loud when two fingers are suddenly plunged deep inside his cunt, without warning. It’s too much and it aches, but they don’t stop. They just move faster and faster, down to the knuckle, scissoring inside of him as he sobs through it all. The squelching is so obscene it makes him cry even harder.

“So desperate for it.” Jungkook whispers harshly in his ear. “Just a dirty slut for me to use.”

Jimin shakes his head, lips quivering. He’s not a slut, he’s not dirty. He’s good. Jimin is so good. He’s pure. His body’s never been tainted, never at the hands of someone as punishing as Jungkook. Until now.

He gasps, but this time, it’s different. It’s not a gasp of fright. His eyes roll in the back of his head, the tears brimming them sliding down the sides of his face and trailing into his hair. He feels a spot deep inside of him being grazed and it makes everything in him throb in such a strange way, he doesn’t even know how to react to it. It feels good. Jimin should be mortified. He moans instead.

“There we go.”

As soon as Jungkook realizes where the spot that makes Jimin’s toes curl is, he doesn’t cease from hitting it dead on repeatedly. His fingers plow into him, making Jimin scream, the added pressure over his clit making his whole body vibrate. He knows this feeling. The delicious touch of the edge. He’s bordering towards it. This can’t be happening.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty?” Jimin gasps over and over, eyes rolled so far back into his skull he thinks he starts to see stars. He tries to deny it, scream out that he isn’t, that he won’t do such a thing, but he knows it would only be a lie. “Come on, do it. I know you want to.”

Jimin doesn’t want it. The orgasm is ripped from him so violently it makes his ears ring. His hips lift off the mattress, being pressed back down by a strong arm thrown over his waist. He feels helpless. He’s too far gone to realize how disgusting he is for liking this feeling.

His whole body is floating, stuck in a haze, too deep in his own world to realize he’s being moved around until his head is hanging over the edge of the bed. It takes him a while. It’s with a light slap across his cheek that he comes back to, gasping as he opens his eyes. The world seems to be upside down. He looks up and sees Jungkook standing above him. His eyes almost bulge out of his head when he realizes what had actually slapped him across the face. Jungkook’s cock rests heavy against his chin. Jimin opens his mouth to beg once more, but he’s silenced when the huge thickness of it slides right down his throat. He gags painfully.

“Be a good hole for me and keep quiet.”

Jimin struggles to breathe, arms lifting above his head, trying to reach back and push Jungkook away, but to no avail. There’s absolutely no point in even trying to stop him from fucking into his mouth. He does it so effortlessly, sliding right down the other’s throat as he struggles to breathe through it all, knowing there’s no point in resisting. It would only make things harder on him. So, he tries to relax his throat as much as possible, spit and snot running down his face, eyes watering painfully. The thrusts become more desperate, uncoordinated, making Jimin’s vision blur as he feels the last remainder of air leave his lungs. He weakly attempts to pinch Jungkook’s thigh. The other pulls out of his mouth and Jimin instantly splutters, coughing up a storm. His throat burns from the ache.

“Open up.” Jungkook instructs as soon as Jimin somewhat calms down. Weakly whimpering, he lets his mouth fall back open, the head of his cock catching onto his bottom lip. “Shit.” The other mutters. “What a sight, Jimin-ah.” He slaps his length over Jimin’s tongue, placing a hand over his cheek. “Pretty little cockslut.”

Jimin moans lightly as his mouth gets filled up once more, the hand from his cheek trailing down to his neck instead, pressing down. He gags heavily around the dick lodged deep in his throat as Jungkook presses onto it, groaning at the feeling. He keeps on doing it every time he thrusts inside.

By the time he decides he’s had enough, Jimin’s entire face is soiled, jaw sore and lips swollen. He gets lifted back up by a hand in his hair, which makes him hiss at the burn of his scalp. Being forced to look up, he does so, eyes almost crossing as he tries to focus them on Jungkook’s face. He’s sure there’s spit dribbling down his chin, eyes glazed over, looking completely debauched and cock drunk. Perfect for Jungkook to break.

“God, you were made for this.” The other mutters as he flips Jimin onto his stomach, lifting his hips up so he would rest on his knees, chest pressed into the mattress. Jimin mewls lewdly. “So tiny…how are you even gonna take all of me?”

Jimin starts to panic. Jungkook’s cock felt so big in his mouth, the corners of it still burn from the stretch. It’s too long, too thick, he knows his hole could never take him. It would hurt too much. He squirms, trying to lift up onto his elbows, but his body is too sluggish, not working in his favor. He tries protesting.

“I-I can’t!” He exclaims when he feels the blunt head of Jungkook’s dick pressing up against his hole. “It w-won’t fit, puh-please!”

Just like every other time, his pleas go unheard. His throat feels sore and scratchy, but he manages to let out another scream. He begs for Jungkook to stop, begs him to not do this. He won’t be able to take it. But he has no choice but to. The other pushes down onto Jimin’s spine, making him arch beautifully as he sinks his cock inside of him. Jungkook’s hand comes down harshly over his ass, the tears springing back into Jimin’s eyes from the sting of the slap.

“Tight little cunt.” He breathes out shakily and Jimin wails as he sinks in even deeper. “Made to take my cock.”

It’s so painful, the stretch burning as the length inside of him drags against his walls. Jimin buries his face in the pillow in front of him. He tries to breathe through it, to relax and let it happen. He just wants for it to stop hurting. His fingers grip the sheets so tight he thinks they might rip as Jungkook, who seemingly had lost all patience, suddenly pushes forward until his hips are flush against Jimin’s ass, making him sob loudly.

He thinks he hears something about taking cock so well, but his brain is too far gone to focus on the words. He gasps wetly as Jungkook pulls almost all the way out, only to slam back inside, making his whole body jostle forward. Jimin is so small; it’s so easy for Jungkook to manhandle him however he wants. So easy to do anything he pleases with him. Before Jimin even gets the chance to adjust, he starts pounding into him.

A hand snakes around his waist, fingers finding his swollen clit with ease, making him convulse as pleasure is being forced out of him. He can’t take it. It’s so much, too much at once. Jungkook is so big, so deep inside of him, he feels like he’s going to burst. He cries and cries until his cries of pain start to turn into ones of confused pleasure, a fire igniting in his tummy, making him tremble from head to toe. The sensations confuse Jimin’s pretty little head so much, all he can do is moan desperately and cry like the cock slut that he is.

“Look at you.” The words are harsh, gritted in his ear. “You’re loving this. Love being raped.” Jimin gasps wetly, his own hand reaching down weakly to paw at Jungkook’s. “Letting me do whatever I want to you. I knew you were asking for it.”

Jimin scratches at his wrist, blubbering that it’s too much, that he can’t take it. He can’t control it as he lets himself be tipped over the edge once more, gripping Jungkook’s cock so tight the other struggles to keep moving. He sees white before his eyes and his body collapses weakly as he keeps being plowed into. And he takes it. Just like he’s meant to.

It’s with a harsh grunt and a painful bite over his shoulder that Jungkook cums, painting his insides white, soiling him. Jimin is no longer pure. He’s dirty, tainted. He feels so full, up to the brim. Feels like he’s going to burst.