Archive of Our Own ^beta

Word Count: 21.9K

EXPLICIT

Published: August 31st, 2024

WARNING: This story includes gore and violence, extreme sexual content, dubious consent, and crude language. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! 

okay… so before we start, let me just tell you that THEY ARE FUCKING EVIL. LIKE — SOCIOPATHIC EVIL. in NO WAY are either jimin or jungkook good people. jungkook only sees jimin as an item to use and discard, while jimin sees him as a plaything to keep forever. neither ever acknowledges the other as a human being

nothing either of these characters do can ever be justified. EVER

bts are just face and name-claims. in no way do I project this behavior onto the boys in real life that’s why it’s called fanFICTION.

pleasepleaseplease mind the dead dove tags this one really needs it

alright, now since that’s out of the way, i need you to do me a favor. watch this netflix trailer by one of my favorite shows before you start so you can fully understand the hallucination scene in the first half. i promise it’ll be worth it *wink wink*

also take a look at mr. smiley for photo reference later on: beep beep

geonbae: the general reference to “cheers” or “bottoms up” in Korean

────

────

“And people who do hideous things do not look like people who do hideous things. There is no face of evil.“

― Martha Stout

“I’ll take a cherry mocktail, please.”

The slurred, pretty voice makes its way through the blasting music, right into Jungkook’s ear.

His eyes glance to his right, his mojito tickling his top lip as someone turns the high chair next to him, a cute little grunt escaping their lips as they hop onto the seat. Jungkook sets down his glass, fingers tapping along the table as he turns his head to take a look.

It’s a boy.

He’s short, not super short, but short nonetheless. His hair is a golden blonde, cutely hanging over his eyes, emphasizing his long lashes as they reflect the bright lights. His button nose slopes beautifully, leading to a small bump on his bridge that trails down to his lips, plush and pretty pink. His cheekbones are sharp, but natural with a light blush. 

He’s perfect.

The bartender slides a glass his way and the boy takes it in his hand before taking a sip. Jungkook watches as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down, eyes closed as his succulent lips pucker around the glass. He sets it down, tongue flicking out to grab a drop on his bottom lip, and Jungkook nibbles on his lip ring. 

Jungkook’s fingers tighten around his glass, and he swings his chair to face the boy. “Hey,” he says, a charming smile on his face. 

The boy looks his way, lips pouting, and Jungkook thinks he might keep this one a little longer than he intends to because he’s so damn pretty. “Hi,” he says, smiling back. 

Jungkook trails his eyes up and down, not missing his tender expression or the slight flush on his cheeks. 

He oozes innocence — pureness — and it draws Jungkook in more than he expected. 

He’s wearing black leggings, white sneakers, and an oversized cardigan that slides off his body to reveal a dainty shoulder and soft, smooth skin.

Jungkook tilts his head. “What’s your name?” he asks, voice like silk.

“Jimin,” the boy replies, the shy smile never leaving his face. Small fingers fidget with the glass, the flush spreading to his ears. 

Clearly, he’s not used to such attention.

Jungkook finds it surprisingly endearing. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook repeats, taking his glass in his hand. “Cute name for a cute twink.”

Jimin’s cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, eyes darting away. “Thanks…” he murmurs with a quiet laugh.

Jungkook smirks. 

He doesn’t even know what a twink is. Typical dumb blonde stereotype. 

“So, Jimin,” he says casually, swirling his drink. “What brings you here? To an underground gay bar?”

Jimin sighs, resting his cheek on his palm as his finger dances around the rim of his glass. “My friend. I didn’t — I didn’t really wanna’ come, but he convinced me so…” His eyes don’t stray from the glass.

“Not a dancer?” Jungkook teases, inching closer.

Jimin giggles, shaking his head as he finally makes eye contact. “Not like this. I’m a contemporary dancer. “I guess I’m just here to have a few drinks. Have a little bit of fun maybe.”

“A little bit of fun, huh?” Jungkook’s grin widens and he leans forward, voice dropping. “I can help with that.”

Jimin blinks again, his innocent eyes widening ever so slightly. “Oh, you can? How?” 

Jungkook shrugs, sitting back against his high chair. “Well, I’m good at making others feel good. Specifically cute people like you,” he says. “I could… Show you. Only if you’re interested, of course.”

Jimin tilts his head as he stammers. “I—uh… I don’t really know what you m-mean…” His innocence is evident, but there’s also a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

Jungkook watches him for a quick moment, reading the slight quiver in his voice, and softens his approach. “Hey, hey,” he coos, reaching his hand to lightly brush Jimin’s. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything. We could just — “ He shrugs again. “ — hang out . Eat some ramyeon ?”

To anyone else, the implications would be clear. 

But to poor Jimin, he must genuinely think they’re going to hang out and eat ramyeon .

“Ramyeon?” Jimin repeats, eyes gleaming. 

“Yeah. Just us talking and eating ramyeon. Yeah?”

Jimin glances down as he nibbles on that juicy bottom lip. “Okay…” he whispers. “I’d like that.”

Jungkook’s smile almost turns predatory, but he composes himself and lets out a chuckle. “Alright, great.” He puts the glass down and stands up, towering over Jimin’s small frame. He holds out a hand, clicking his tongue. “Let’s go, Jimin.”

Jimin hesitates for only a second before slipping his hand into Jungkook’s palm. “I-I’ll just let my friend, Taehyung know,” he says.

Jungkook’s eyes snap towards Jimin. “What?”

But before he can say anything, Jimin is already making his way to the dance floor. Jungkook’s heart stops, and he thinks he’s going to lose his chance when Jimin taps someone under the disco ball on the shoulder. He spins around, his arms around someone’s neck with two arms on his waist. He’s wearing bright purple lipstick as hazel hair hangs over his forehead, a leather tube top, and a see-through skirt adorning a toned, broad body. 

Jimin says something to him, pointing a thumb over his shoulder and patting him on the arm. The friend, who Jimin mentioned as Taehyung, doesn’t look his way and just smiles, making a pervy face before turning back to his dance partner as he throws his head back.  

Jungkook squints before he recognizes the other man to be his own friend, Yoongi. His eyes make their way to Jungkook’s, and he grins, mouthing ‘This one is mine’ as his hands dance up and down Taehyung’s back. Jungkook just waves his hand as Jimin grabs onto his arm when he returns. He sends Yoongi a quick smirk as he tugs Jimin out of the club.

The cool night air hits his face, and he glances down at Jimin, eyes curiously darting around as his fingers grip Jungkook’s blazer.

He’s so small and frail, and Jungkook almost feels bad about what he’s doing.

He leads Jimin to his car, opening the passenger door for him like a gentleman. “After you,” he says.

Jimin smiles and slips inside, and Jungkook shuts the door before rounding the front of his car to get into the driver’s side. In the closed space, Jungkook can hear Jimin’s quiet breathing and smell the sweet, cherry perfume. 

“What perfume are you wearing?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

“Lovefest Burning Cherry by Kayali,” Jimin replies, looking at Jungkook. “Do you like it?” he asks, voice peppy. 

Jungkook glances over. 

Jimin is hidden underneath the cardigan, his hands gripping the edge of the seat between his thighs as he looks at Jungkook with big eyes, searching for validation.

Jungkook smiles. “I love it.”

Jimin blushes before turning back to the road. “So… Where are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

Jimin’s head snaps over, knees closing as his hands grip the hem of his cardigan. “But I thought we were going to get ramyeon?” His voice is soft, uncertain.

Jungkook looks over at him with a frown. “Oh, we are! Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you,” he slurs, voice dripping with seduction. 

The blonde swallows hard, fingers fiddling with each other before nodding. “Okay…” he mumbles, eyes watching the city outside.

Jungkook reaches over to place his hand on Jimin’s knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re in good hands.”

────

Jimin is mostly silent for the fifteen-minute drive, occasionally asking Jungkook cute questions and responding with quiet ‘oh’s.

When Jungkook pulls his car into the parking garage of his apartment complex, he glances over to Jimin to see him staring out the window with wide, glistening eyes as his lips part. 

“This is your home?” he asks.

Jungkook nods, pride filling his tone as he says, “Yeah, Doll. This is it.”

Some might think Jungkook is a hard-working businessman, based on his trinkets or how he carries himself. But it only adds to his charm — his façade .

Truth is, he comes from a wealthy family, and he’s a son of a bitch who eats off his father’s endless money which he will soon inherit. He can worry about work when his father, who owns the biggest biotech company in Korea, finally kicks the can. It isn’t that he’s a bad or unloving father, even after his mother died giving birth to him. 

He’s quite the opposite. 

He grew up poor and worked his ass off to give Jungkook the life he never had, still making time to bond and raise his son. 

It’s just a shame that Jungkook turned out like this. 

His father has continually expressed his disappointment, but he doesn’t say or do anything more. He’s growing older, and he knows Jungkook will eventually stop “loafing around” soon enough.  

“So… What do you do? Can I ask?”

Jungkook chuckles, and judging by the way Jimin squeezes his thighs together, it must sound like pure money . “I work at a biotech company. You ever heard of Celltrion?”

Jimin shakes his head. “No…” he mumbles, rubbing his neck.

Jungkook hums. I thought so.

He parks in his designated space before opening the door for Jimin and extending a hand. 

Jimin blushes again as Jungkook tugs him inside. “So fancy…” he whispers with awe. 

His head follows the diamond chandelier hanging over the dark-accented lobby as they walk beneath it, sneakers shuffling over the plush royal blue carpets. 

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, thinking about Jimin’s pretty little body dressed in nothing but lavish diamonds. 

He shakes the thought away, rubbing his fingers across his breast pocket as he remembers his plan while they step into the elevator. Jungkook presses the button for the 24th floor, and Jimin keeps his hands tight on Jungkook’s fingers, right foot tapping up and down sporadically. 

Jungkook drops Jimin’s hand and places his own on the boy’s lower back with a sweet smile. “Relax. It’s all good,” he says. 

Jimin nods, running his fingers through his hair with a pout. They step out onto the floor, and Jungkook leads Jimin halfway down the hall as he pulls out his keys. He pushes open the door, holding it open for Jimin as he slides his shoes off, revealing pure white socks that wrap around small, light feet. Jungkook locks the door, eyes on Jimin as he looks around the apartment.

“Oh, wow…” he mumbles. 

Without saying anything more, he wanders towards the living room to explore, looking at the various items Jungkook has placed around. Jungkook heads towards his kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses, delicately placing them on the bar.

“So, how old are you, Jimin?” 

He supposes he’s asking a little too late, but he can safely remind himself Jimin must be eighteen at the very least if he was in the club. 

And if he might have been lying with a fake ID? 

Well…  

“I’m twenty-six,” he says, eyes darting around curiously as his fingers brush delicately along every shiny item he comes across.

He’s older than Jungkook. Yet, it seems as though the poor thing has never seen an ounce of wealth. 

Maybe Jungkook should dress him in diamonds before killing him to boost his little ego. Or better yet, he can kill him while he’s wearing the diamonds. 

“Oh really? I just turned twenty-five a few weeks ago.”

“Really? Wait when?”

September 1st. 

“September 13th.”

Jimin gasps. “I turn twenty-seven on October 13th!”

Jungkook chuckles, heading towards his wine cabinet. “That’s just next week. Happy early birthday, Doll.” He looks over his shoulder, motioning to the high chairs. “Please, have a seat.” 

Jimin obeys, and hops onto the high chair, settling in the plush leather with a little squeak, legs dangling over the ground as Jungkook opens the cooled wine cabinet. “What’s that??”

“Wine. Do you like wine?” 

“Um… I’ve never had it before.”

Jungkook smirks, pulling out a thick bottle and admiring the gold seal. “Romanée Conti, France. 1923 . A bottle of this beauty is over eight million won.”

Jimin gulps. 

Jungkook pops the bottle open and begins pouring the glasses, his back turned to Jimin.

“E-eight million? Wait — we-we don’t have to — ”

But Jungkook has already poured the wine, and he knows that Jimin isn’t going to be rude and deny it. It’ll just go to waste after all. 

He sets the bottle down in Jimin’s view and the elder quiets, a hand rubbing his nape as he waits patiently. Jungkook glances over his shoulder, and Jimin’s eyes are locked onto a white vase he got from Japan, fixed together with streaks of gold. He quickly reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a GHB pill, dropping it into the wine glass with the little chip on the base. 

“You’re going to love it.” 

Jungkook turns around and slides the chipped glass towards Jimin, and he looks down at it, licking his lips. 

He frowns. “I — Um… I haven’t eaten much today. Is that okay?” he asks. 

Jungkook shrugs casually but turns to the fridge to bring out a half-eaten cheesecake. He hears the glass slide and clink and turns over his shoulder to see Jimin fiddling with his glass, looking down at the red liquid with a furrow between his brows. He sets the cheesecake on the table and takes his wine glass, gently clinking it with Jimin’s.

“ Geonbae , Jimin.”

He swirls the glass for a second or two, lifting the rim to his nose to inhale the scent, when Jimin blindly downs half of the glass in one go, eyes squeezed shut as his hand grips around the slender stem. Jungkook lowers his glass with a smile, fingers tapping along the bowl. 

This is too easy. 

He doesn’t need to drink first to gain Jimin’s trust. 

He already has plenty of it.

Jimin pulls the glass away with a gasp, taking a deep breath before looking into Jungkook’s eyes with an awkward smile. “ ‘S good!” he exclaims.

Jungkook means to scoff in amusement, but he passes it as a hoarse chuckle. “You’re supposed to drink it slowly, you know.”

Jimin’s eyes widen before they crease into moons as he covers his mouth with his hands. “Oops…” he mumbles with a giggle. 

Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes before stepping towards Jimin so that his dainty little knees rub against Jungkook’s thighs. “Drinking wine is a process. It’s not a party drink like vodka or tequila.” Jimin swallows, nodding in enthusiasm. Jungkook continues. “First, you need to swirl it around and expose it to the air to bring out the aroma. Like this.”

He demonstrates with his own glass, smoothly tilting and rotating it in a circle. The wine hugs the walls of the glass, thinning as it slides back to the bottom like heavy rain against elegant glass.  

“Why?” Jimin asks, repeating Jungkook’s motions with the wine he has left. 

Jungkook grins. 

Jimin is mixing his own poison

“Because when you drink wine, you have to smell it too. Tasting it isn’t enough.” Jungkook finishes by taking a gentle sip, leaving the wine on his tongue for a few seconds before he swallows. 

He raises his glass, motioning for Jimin to ‘ try it ’.

Jimin looks back down at his glass before mirroring Jungkook’s motions: swirling the glass, smelling the wine, then savoring the taste as he swallows. “Like… Like that?”

“Yes, Doll. Just like that.” He tilts his head. “What do you taste?”

Jimin’s eyes falter back to his glass as he swirls it, captivated by the deep colors and scents. “Um… It tastes a little bit like bitter grapes. But it’s earthy too. Sort of like flowers?” he mumbles.   

Jungkook takes another sip. “There’s no right or wrong answer. Wine is a different experience for everyone,” he says in a recurring tone. 

The blonde nods softly, blinking as he sips again.

They remain silent for a few minutes as Jungkook towers over Jimin, who keeps his gaze on his wine, eyes flickering to Jungkook’s shoes as his cheeks grow redder by the second. 

Jungkook sets his glass down and leans his arms on the counter as Jimin keeps savoring and sipping his wine, just as Jungkook taught him, breath heavy with occasional squeaks. 

The wine must be overwhelming. 

Good. 

His eyes trail down to Jimin’s leggings, where his knees and upper thighs are barely exposed through the sheer material.

Sure, Jungkook could kill him. 

But then, he wouldn’t be able to see Jimin’s pretty cheeks flush when he comes on Jungkook’s cock.

Jungkook pictures his slim, diamond-covered body writhing in his bed, covered in hickeys and hand prints, blonde hair ruffled, chocolate eyes crossed, pink tongue lolling out, skin painted in Jungkook’s cum as globs of it leak out his little hole. He pictures Jimin’s pretty little cocklette, adorned with even more diamonds, soiled by his own cum. He pictures Jimin begging to be stuffed again and again, spreading his ass cheeks wide open before Jungkook is plunging a knife into his chest, licking up the blood as Jimin shrivels to a corpse.  

He doesn’t have sex with his victims because it isn’t as satisfying as the aftermath of the kill. 

But Jimin…  

Jungkook snaps out of his trance when Jimin clears his throat, looking into Jungkook’s eyes. “What is it, Doll?” he asks, cupping Jimin’s chin with his fingers.

Jimin swallows. “Are we… Are we eating ram-ramyeon?”

Jungkook pauses. 

He wants to laugh in Jimin’s face.

Instead, he smiles. “Let me go get it.”

Jungkook leaves Jimin behind to continue with his wine, opening his pantry door. He ruffles around the top shelf for his box of condoms and pulls a few out, tucking them into his breast pocket. He returns to find Jimin, sitting with his eyes closed as he takes the final sip of his wine. 

“All out of ramyeon,” Jungkook says with a pout.

Jimin’s eyes flicker open, and he lazily turns his head to Jungkook. ”Huh?”

“The ramyeon? Remember?”

Jimin glances at his glass, then back to Jungkook before shaking his head.

Perfect.

Jungkook leans down, using his index finger to lift Jimin’s face towards him. There’s a little drop of wine lingering on his lip, and Jungkook flicks his thumb to wipe it off before pressing it against the fold between his top and button lip. Jimin’s hazy eyes don’t leave his, and Jungkook tilts his chin up, eyes darkening as he pushes his thumb inside Jimin’s mouth. 

He presses on Jimin’s tongue, watching his behavior, and smirks when Jimin’s eyes fall shut with a sigh, opening his lips wider to let Jungkook in. Jungkook presses his thumb further into Jimin’s mouth as he wraps his juicy lips around it, his other digits cupping Jimin’s jaw. One little hand reaches up to hold onto Jungkook’s wrist, sucking like a pacifier as Jungkook keeps pressure on his tongue, the other little hand gripping the stem of the wine glass. 

Jungkook feels his cock twitch when Jimin gags, eyebrows knitting together.

“There you go… Good boy. I knew you’d love it.” 

He swiftly pulls his thumb out, leaving a trail of saliva and Jimin lets out a quiet whimper when Jungkook’s hand fists in the cardigan, pulling him off the chair to crush their lips together. The wine glass falls to the floor, shattering on the tile as Jimin hums in surprise against Jungkook’s lips. Jungkook is ravenous against Jimin’s lips, sucking and biting the flesh like fruit as Jimin presses two hands against his chest, fisting in his maroon dress shirt. 

Jungkook fists a hand in Jimin’s locks and sets his other hand on his ass cheek, grabbing it to pull their hips flush together. He roughly fondles the fat muscle and hums in satisfaction, not expecting it to be so thick and plump, spilling around his hands like dough. 

He knows Jimin won’t say anything, too shy and too drunk to. 

He pulls away from Jimin’s lips with a smack, and Jimin blinks, heaving as his eyelids remain heavy. “Fat little ass…” he grumbles, brutally squeezing Jimin’s cheek until he’s twitching to get away, pain filling his bottom. “Never had one like this…” His voice is low and husky as it brushes against Jimin’s face, spanking Jimin hard through his leggings.

Jimin yelps, arms wrapping around Jungkook’s back for leverage as his legs grow weak. Jungkook keeps his hand tight on Jimin’s ass, holding him close as his other hand grabs his wine glass to finish the rest of it in one big gulp. 

Jimin watches, his small hands fisted against Jungkook’s broad back as he hiccups. “Th-thought you said t-to drink it slow-slowly — ”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook growls, the erection beneath his trousers too hard to ignore any longer.  

Jungkook leaves his glass behind and grabs the half-empty bottle of wine, dragging Jimin towards the couch. He sits down and tugs Jimin onto his lap, adjusting his thighs to straddle Jungkook’s waist. Their cocks connect through their pants, and Jungkook kisses Jimin some more, tasting the expensive wine on his tongue. He leans back and sets a hand on Jimin’s nape, lifting the wine bottle to his lips. 

Jimin tiredly looks at it for a moment before sitting up, closing his eyes, and opening his lips once more. 

Jungkook grins as he feeds Jimin straight from the bottle. 

He tilts his head up, savoring the taste with little hums as his hands wrap around Jungkook’s wrists. He purses his lips around the tip of the bottle, sucking the liquid onto his tongue with little whimpers, gasping for air each time Jungkook pulls the bottle away to let the wine swim in his mouth.

“Look at you. You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” Jungkook mocks, the hand on Jimin’s nape moving to wrap around his throat. 

Jimin nods, basking in the attention as Jungkook rests a thumb under his chin, tilting his head up to follow the flow of wine. He drinks the wine much faster than the others, and with more enthusiasm, desperate for validation. Jimin’s body is also taking so long to process the roofie, and Jungkook is honestly impressed at this point. 

He pulls the bottle away from Jimin’s swollen lips, releasing the suction with a hollow ‘pop’ before tossing it to the carpet, where it rolls away. Jimin whimpers as Jungkook takes both of his wrists, forcefully placing them on Jungkook’s shoulders as his hands reach down to fondle and grope at both of Jimin’s ass cheeks. 

“So fucking good…” Jungkook mutters, jiggling them, playing with Jimin’s body, like he’s nothing more than a doll.

Jimin whines, back arching to escape. “H-hurts…” he whispers.

But Jungkook ignores him, breathing erratically as he yanks the cardigan off Jimin’s shoulder, his lips finding their mark on his clavicle, sucking hickeys into his skin.

As Jungkook is hit with the scent of Lovefest Burning Cherry , everything else fades into nothing.

All he can think about is bruising and marking Jimin’s milky, hairless skin, and sinking his cock into his body like a fleshlight. Even if Jimin isn’t hairless, he’ll gladly wax his little hole himself. His mind begins to race, and he closes his eyes as he nibbles along Jimin’s shoulder. Jimin continues to whimper and whine, his little cock and balls pressed against Jungkook’s hard bulge through his leggings. 

Jungkook just knows that they’re tiny, and he can’t wait to pinch them between his fingers.

He throws Jimin off his lap onto the couch, hastily standing up to manhandle Jimin into a position. He vividly recalls Jimin mentioning dance and assumes his flexibility, flipping him onto his back and grabbing his slender ankles. Jungkook spreads Jimin’s legs, grinning when they effortlessly bare open, a tiny bulge forming under the leggings. 

“You’re shameless,” he mocks with a grin, caressing his ankles with his thumbs.

Jimin slumps against the couch with a whine and a pout, arms limp by his head as his chest heaves up and down, cardigan torn along the shoulder. His eyes are hazy, and Jungkook almost wishes he doesn’t go unconscious, wanting to see that pretty face all flushed and fucked out, purely drunk on wine and cock. 

Jungkook stands straight with a grunt, fiddling with his belt and tugging his zipper down before leaning down to cage Jimin between his arms. 

That’s when his head is hit with spots of black and white. 

He stumbles, disoriented, eyes clenching shut as a low groan escapes him. His body betrays him and he collapses beside Jimin.

“M-mister?” Jimin's voice slurs, thick with confusion and alcohol. 

“Ugh… Hold on…” Jungkook grunts, sitting up with a hand against his temple to steady the spinning in his head. Jimin tries to inch away, but Jungkook grabs his waist and pulls him back with a possessive growl. He tries to push through the fog and attempts to get on top of Jimin again when he is hit with another burst of spots, this time accompanied by a sudden loss of strength. “Ah… Fuck — ”

His grip on Jimin weakens, fingers trembling as the strength seeps from his limbs like steam. The room around him shakes and vibrates, his body struggling to stay awake. 

Jimin crawls away with a little gasp, looking over his shoulder as he heaves with wide, terrified eyes. 

Jungkook’s heart pounds as he holds his hand out. “J-Jimin… Wait — ”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Jungkook’s heart races, panic settling in his chest. He doesn’t know what’s happening to him, but he has to fight it. 

He can’t let Jimin escape.

Another pathetic call leaves his lips, head falling back against the couch as his eyes lock onto the chandelier, spinning in place. He tries again, but his body refuses.

He feels two hands on his shoulders and suddenly, Jimin is back on his lap, that same fearful expression across his face. 

Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh, setting his weak hands back on Jimin’s ass. “D-don’t go, Doll. ‘S all good here…” he slurs, trying to hold onto whatever shred of control he still has. But the words that leave his mouth feel hollow. “Sh-should we…” 

He trails off as Jimin stares at him. 

The fearful expression is gone, replaced by a smile as he carefully tilts his head left and right, no longer appearing as drunk as he was. 

Then, he wraps his arms around Jungkook’s neck, settling against his chest. He runs a finger from Jungkook’s eyebrow bar down to his lip ring, then up to his nose. “Big — dumb — bunny…” he whispers, tapping Jungkook on the nose with each insult. 

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow. “Wh-what…?”

Jimin’s lips open again, but instead of an explanation, it’s a song. “ ♪ The minute you walked in the joint… ♪ ”

Jungkook is beyond confused. 

He tries to move, to reassert himself, but his body refuses to obey. His vision keeps swimming in and out of focus as the room spins faster, and it seems as though the chandelier light is turning purple, then red, and then blue, then back to red where it stills. 

Jimin sings again. “ ♪ I could see you were a man of distinction. A real big spender. Good looking, so refined… ♪ ”

His throat dries up like a desert, and it hurts to swallow as his vision goes in and out of focus. He looks down at his hands and they look… Distant. 

It’s as if he isn’t even in his own body anymore.

And all he can do is stare at Jimin's unsettling smile, bathed in deep red light that he isn’t sure is even real as he stands up, sweet chocolate eyes morphing pitch black as he grins down at Jungkook with pearly white teeth. “ ♪ Say, wouldn't you like to know what's going on in my mind? ♪ ”

He tries to think, tries to make of what is happening.

Then, he remembers the speed at which Jimin drank his wine, and the lag in his reaction to the roofie. He looks at his glass where he left it on the counter, and his eyes widen when he sees the little chip at the base of the glass. 

He drank the wrong wine. 

“ ♪ Do you wanna have fun? ♪ ”

He drank the roofie —

But these hallucinations, the dry mouth, the blurred vision, the desensitization, the music, the colors blasting left and right — this doesn’t come with his roofie. 

No, this is something else.

Then, he remembers when he left his own drink unattended to get the condom, and his eyes widen as a low hum echoes in his ears. 

He recognizes the effects because he’s used it on people himself.

“ ♪ How about a few laughs? I can show you a — ♪ ”  

Devil’s breath.

” ♪ — good time… ♪ ”

He scrambles off the couch, crashing into the coffee table with a groan as he tries to crawl towards the door. Behind him, Jimin slowly approaches, Jungkook’s car keys jingling in his hands as he twirls them around.

“ ♪ Do you wanna have fun — fun — fun? ♪ ”  He takes a sharp step with each pause, stiff arms swinging left and right along the beat. 

The low hum crescendos into powerful drums, trumpets, and trombones and nightmarish plucks of a violin as loud, eerie voices mix with Jimin’s. 

He claws the ground, using all his force only to move a few inches until the strength has left him, and he’s limp on the floor. 

He cranks his neck over his shoulder, cheek pressing into the ground, and what he sees next will never leave his soul.

In his distorted, red-tinted vision, Jimin is on all fours, crawling toward Jungkook. 

But something is profoundly wrong. 

There are little horns on his head, twisting up into the air. The smile on his face is a grotesque parody of joy, stretching impossibly wide across his face, the corners of his lips yanked upward by an invisible force. The nightmarish grin doesn’t reach his eyes, and they remain pitch-black voids, cold, and piercing, as though he is looking right through Jungkook. Jimin’s body contorts and bends unnaturally as he rises to his feet, bones cracking in the air as a snake-like tongue flicks out with a hiss. 

The fear that surges through Jungkook’s blood like an eerie wind freezes him in place.

Jimin tilts his head menacingly, voice growing delicate. “ ♪ How about a few — laughs? ♪ “

Jungkook screams.

“ ♪ I can show you a — good time! ♪ ”

The door throws open and Jimin keeps a grip on the back of Jungkook’s shirt, dragging him down the hallway. 

His body is in a trance, like a sailor at sea, and he can’t say or do anything as Jimin carefully takes him into the elevator, hitting the parking garage button. Jimin looks down at Jungkook with the same, horrifying form before he leans closer to lick Jungkook from his chin to his forehead with that forked tongue.

Jungkook lets out a quiet whimper, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to tell himself that it isn’t real.

“ ♪ Fun, laughs, good time… Fun, laughs, good time… Fun, laughs, good time… ♪ ”

But it all feels too real, yet he doesn’t feel real. 

And in the blink of an eye, he’s on his back coughing, facing the roof of his car as the cold leather rests against his back, his heels on the concrete.

Jimin leans over him and frowns. The smile and devil horns are gone, but the music is as loud as ever, tearing Jungkook’s eardrums, yet Jimin isn’t the one singing. “Do you want water, Bunny?” 

Without thinking, Jungkook nods feverishly, and Jimin reaches over the compartment to grab Jungkook’s flask from the cupholder. “Open up, now,” he says sweetly.

And Jungkook does, so desperate to ease the desert burning in his throat.

He coughs when he’s met with a flour-like substance hitting his throat, only for Jimin to clamp his mouth shut until it dissolves on his tongue. 

As Jungkook falls limp once again with a little groan, Jimin sighs, grabbing his legs to get the rest of his body into the car “Big dumb bunny…”  

It’s the last thing Jungkook hears before darkness envelops him like a blanket. 

────

For most of his life, Jungkook didn’t really know who he was.

He lived a luxurious life on a private estate with servants, home-cooked food, lavish clothes, silk sheets —

But he was extremely withdrawn from others, and often spent his time collecting cockroaches, letting them loose in his room as he spoke to them like they would reply. 

It drove his father crazy.

He didn’t have friends throughout grade school or middle school and the pattern didn’t change in high school. His father did his best to socialize Jungkook with the children of his colleagues, but nothing ever came out of it. 

Jungkook was just too — weird. 

His father did his best to take Jungkook out for movies or food, anything that could bring them closer. Even though Jungkook was the reason his wife had died, his father desperately tried to build a relationship so that she wouldn’t have died in vain. Jungkook entertained his father’s wishful thinking until he was in ninth grade. After that, they stopped going out together.

Jungkook was mostly unbothered until the tenth grade. That was when everything changed.

It was when the whispers started, kids calling him names like ‘freak’ or ‘zealot.’ 

But the one that stuck and sunk deep into his skin was “Bug Boy.” 

When he found out that Choi Hyunjin had started it, Jungkook didn’t hesitate and smashed him in the head with a metal lunchbox. He was sent to the hospital for a severe concussion and never returned to school. 

“Bug Boy” was different than the other names — felt more personal . 

After that, the expulsion was inevitable, and his father, frustrated beyond reason, finally took him to a therapist where Jungkook was diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome.

Unfortunately, that’s all they thought it was. 

Jungkook still believes that it’s a misdiagnosis. 

He thinks that’s when his father, using the diagnosis as a confirmation of his own failure, truly gave up on him and decided to just focus on growing the company. Jungkook was left to his own with nobody but his personal maid, Ms. Hana. She was a sweet old woman with a lisp, who always asked if Jungkook was hungry. 

He never was.

A few days before he turned nineteen, he took a jar of cockroaches into the woods behind his house to add to the collection. He wasn’t expecting to find anything unusual — maybe some crickets or centipedes. But instead, he stumbled upon Min Yoongi, silently gutting a screeching cat. When they made eye contact, they froze, and Jungkook stayed still with the jar clutched in his hands. 

Yoongi took one look at Jungkook, then at the jar before motioning to a cardboard box. “There’s more in there…” he mumbled, slicing the knife through the belly of the poor feline.

Curiosity flared within Jungkook, stronger than any normal instinct to run. He waddled over to the box to find three other cats, and he dropped his jar when one hissed and scratched, the jar shattering on the ground for the cockroaches to scatter into the brush. He stayed quiet as Yoongi walked over and handed him the still-screaming cat and a spare knife before getting back to his craft.  

It took Jungkook less than fifteen minutes to skin it.

And it was thrilling.

Satisfying.  

It took him a few minutes to realize that he was turned on by it, and when he did, he sprinted home and furiously jacked off in his bathtub. 

It was the most earth-shattering orgasm he’s ever experienced.

He quietly met Yoongi the next day, and they spent the next two years killing animals together in the woods, occasionally jacking off together or blowing each other. He had no idea where Yoongi lived, and neither had visited the other’s home. But they had a connection and spent every evening slaughtering creatures, collecting their bones, and then burying the remains in their secret spot until the ground was covered in little mounds. 

Then, they just started throwing the remains into the river to flow into town. 

Jungkook still remembers reading the headlines about animal remains polluting the water supply and carcasses washing up in horrifying conditions. 

No one ever traced it back to them.

And then, one day, when Jungkook was around twenty-one, he decided to push Ms. Hana down the stairs for no reason at all. She tumbled down the stairs, screaming until she hit her old head on the bottom step and died on the spot. Jungkook knew that if she didn’t die at that moment, he was going to drag her to the woods and finish the job with his bare hands. 

He made sure to put on a show of grief for his father but spent the night with a fleshlight, moaning softly in the dark.

By the time he turned 25 and was living in an apartment in Seoul, he had killed sixteen more people.

He has a little routine he likes to follow: lure, kill, cut, deliver, then spend the rest of the night drinking wine and jacking off. 

Half of his victims were whores he picked up at the very club he found Jimin, who he killed in his apartment or their own homes, while the other half were lonely alcoholics or addicts he lured into the shadows. He doesn’t necessarily have a physical type, but he always makes sure to go for people whose missing presence would go unnoticed long enough for him to take care of everything, people who are not labeled missing within forty-eight hours. 

And they never are.

That is until Jungkook drops a dismembered jaw or hand on a random doorstep with the owner’s bloody ID for some unfortunate soul to stumble across.

While Yoongi silently kills and collects backbones and teeth for his macabre souvenirs, Jungkook is set his on own legacy.

After he removes a hand or a jaw, he cuts up the rest of the body and stuffs the parts into trash bags. Then, in the dead of night, he’ll toss them into the trunk of his car and seal them in barrels at a rental unit on the outskirts of town. 

He wants the cops to identify the bodies, to keep a count. So, he’ll give either dental records or fingerprints just to taunt them. It’s enough to keep them on their toes, but not enough for them to put a stop to the prolific killing.

Three years later, he still hasn’t been caught.  

They’ll never be able to trace it back to him, and his father’s money is enough to shoo them away if they ever get close.

He doesn’t know if he’s that good or if the police are that hopeless at doing their job. Either way, he lets his success stroke his ego. He likes to keep track of everything happening on the news, and he has attached himself to the little name the media has gifted him.

The Sawman.

He loves it, revels in the fame, and feeds on the fear, knowing that when Jeon Jungkook dies, the Sawman will live on.

And with each headline, each fearful whisper, he saws off another piece of immortality — one body at a time.

────

Jungkook wakes up to a splash of cold water on his face, and he leaps up with a heave, rushing to wipe his face as his head throbs. But his arms don’t move, and he hears a metallic jingle as he tries again. He looks over his shoulder with a wince, arms pulled back by two handcuffs around his wrist, clicked around an old metal bed frame. 

The position incites an awkward stretch in his shoulders and tries to scoot up to sit on the pillow, the cheap mattress beneath him creaking.

“Good morning, Bunny.” Jungkook flinches, head turning to the voice to see Jimin sitting in a chair at the end of the bed. “Or rather, good evening . You took quite the nap!” he exclaims. 

Jungkook’s head darts left and right, and he attempts to Jump out of the bed, momentarily forgetting about his cuffed arms. The room is old, painted in a washed-out baby blue with dusty wooden floors. There’s a window, painted shut, and Jungkook can just barely see the green lawn outside. 

Then, he looks down at his legs to see another pair of cuffs around his ankles. At that moment, he notices that he’s wearing nothing except a pair of sweatpants that aren’t his, along with a leather collar around his neck, which honestly just confuses him. 

He can feel his cock rub uncomfortably against the seams, and his blood boils at the thought of Jimin undressing him unconscious.

His mind doesn’t let him miss the irony, but the thought is forgotten as fast as it’s conjured.  

“What the fuck — Where am I? What did you do to me?!“ His throat is so dry that it hurts to speak.

Jimin crosses his legs, twirling a little remote in his hands. “We are on my family farm about three hours from Seoul,” he says, voice laced with pride.

“How did you get me here? And why the fuck am I wearing this?”

Jimin shrugs. “I just used your car and drove us somewhere quiet. Then, we took my car up here,” he says, smiling as if abducting Jungkook was a casual errand. “Oh, and I bought those for you a few days ago. I wasn’t sure what size you’d be, but it seems as though I made a good guess!”

He planned this.

He fucking planned this.

“Where the hell is my car?!” Jungkook growls through gritted teeth. 

“I left it back in the city. Keys are on the hood.” 

Somehow, Jungkook is angrier that his car has likely been stolen, rather than the issue at hand. “You left it there?” he hisses.

“Calm down, Bunny,” Jimin says with a chuckle. “It’s no use to us now. Too much attention.”

“Don’t call me that, you sick fuck.”

Jimin’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward, voice dangerously low. “Are you aware of the position you’re in? Of what’s around your neck ?”

Jungkook growls, shaking his arms and legs to rattle the handcuffs. “ Very .”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m fucking s-s-s — AHHH!” Jungkook is cut off when searching white pain shoots through his neck.

His body seizes, every muscle going rigid as the shock travels through his nerves, piercing every inch of his skin like molten needles. His mind blanks out everything but the electrifying agony that racks his brain, as if every nerve is on fire. His heart pounds in his chest as his throat tightens, cutting off his scream and leaving him gasping. 

Then, it stops.

His body thumbs to the mattress, bouncing up as his eyes blow wide, staring at the cracked popcorn ceiling above him until he begins to see a face, two eyes of different sizes, and a wide, shaky smile. 

It reminds him of the Mr. Smiley pattern on the wood from The Haunting of Hill House , and he figures that he might as well be haunted along with it.

“ Now are you sure?” Jimin asks. 

He doesn’t dare speak a word. 

And his silence speaks volumes. 

Jimin pouts. “Awh… Is Bunny not feeling okay? You can tell me. Go on.”

Jungkook swallows, eyes glancing over to Jimin, calculating his words very carefully. “W-water…”  he whispers, voice hoarse.

He keeps his eyes on Jimin as he swiftly stands up, tucking the remote in his pocket before reaching for the side table — which is really a three-legged metal stool — for an empty glass and a pitcher. 

The sound of the water, the dribble of the droplets, the clink of the ice in the pitcher — 

Water has never looked so thirst-quenching. 

Jimin sets the pitcher down and climbs onto the bed, straddling Jungkook’s waist to cup his face with one hand, lifting the water to his lips with the other. Jungkook lifts his head up, resting on his elbows as his tongue swipes over his lips. Just before the rim can touch his chapped lips, Jimin pauses, the glass clinking against his lip ring. 

“What’s the magic word?” he teases.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “What?”

“The magic word.”

“I don’t — I don’t know — I’m so fucking thirsty, Jimin. I need it. I need it. I need it — ” he rasps. 

“Nuh-uh. What’s the magic word, Bunny?” he sings, pulling the glass away.

“I don’t fucking know!” Jungkook shouts, desperation filling his voice before it morphs into anger. “Just give me the goddamn water!”

Jimin pouts and reaches into his pocket, pulling out the remote. “That’s not how you talk to, Jiminie.”

Just before his index finger pushes the button, Jungkook’s eyes snap open. “P-please!” Jimin pauses, his finger resting on the red button. “Please, let me have some water, Jimin. Please, please, please — ” He pulls at his restraints once more.

Without another word, Jimin smiles and rests the glass against Jungkook’s lips, and he houses the water like anything, drinking so fast that it dribbles down his face. Jimin pours him two more glasses, and Jungkook drinks every drop until his stomach is filled with water. 

His body slowly begins to rehydrate, and he can already feel the ache in his head reduce. 

The relief is fleeting, though, as last night’s events vaguely — vaguely come back to him, and he clenches his fist. 

The last thing he remembers is feeding Jimin the wine through the bottle before his memory becomes blurry. There is a particular tune in his head, but he can’t place it, and it only frustrates him further.

How could he be so careless? 

How could he let his guard down?

How could he fall for Jimin’s act so well?

Thoughts rage in Jungkook’s head like six storms, and the throbbing in his head returns with a groan. 

“What’s wrong, Bun?” Jimin asks, tapping Jungkook’s cheekbone.

The name strikes another egotistic nerve in Jungkook, and he squirms, sitting up as far as he can with a growl. His shoulders strain against the headboard, but he’s too furious to care.

Jimin just shushes him like a child, placing a seductive hand on his bare chest to gently push him back down, his other hand waving the remote in Jungkook’s face.

“I cannot believe I — me of all people — fell for your act.”

Jimin hums. “Don’t be so proud of yourself,” he purrs. “You know, I was going to let you rape me last night before I brought you back. It would’ve been so fun!” he cries out, pouting as he smacks a hand on Jungkook’s chest. “But then, you had to go and ruin it with your stupid roofie. Knocked you out way faster than it should’ve.”

Jungkook is horrified.

Jimin is speaking as if… As if last night was a game of tag .

“ You’re the one who spiked my drink!” 

“Yep,” Jimin says proudly. “Right after you spiked it first.”

“When did you even have the opportunity?!”

“When you were getting my ramyeon. Or whatever you were doing. After I switched them, of course. I’m surprised you didn’t taste the differences. Considering one of them was your own and, well, you seem to know your wine.”

Jungkook groans again, letting his head fall against the pillow.

So careless. Careless, careless, careless —

“How long have I been out?”

“About nineteen hours. I guess two roofie dosages can really take it out of a man. That and an innocent, pretty face, huh?” Jimin teases, poking his flushed cheeks. 

Jungkook’s breath hitches, nape burning. “What do you want from me.”

Jimin tilts his head, silencing as he adjusts to settle his groin directly on Jungkook’s abdomen. “You’re my new toy.” He leans in, breath fanning Jungkook’s ear as the sweet scent of cherry fills his nose. “And I love breaking my toys…” 

Jungkook scowls, his jaw tightening. Without warning, he spits in Jimin’s face.

Jimin closes his eyes, sitting up before his thumb swipes across his cheek to collect the saliva. He holds eye contact with Jungkook as he sucks on his thumb, humming before pulling it out with a wet ‘pop’.

“Delicious…” he murmurs, mockingly. 

“You have no idea who you’re fucking with…” Jungkook mutters.

Jimin purses his lips before hitting the remote, this time a little warning shock that isn’t nearly as bad as the first one. Jungkook lets out a little yip, body twitching involuntarily as Jimin shrugs. “I’ll take my chances.”

Jungkook closes his eyes as he settles back against the crappy mattress, exhaling through his nose as the heat in his neck subsides. “Great. Good for you. Now, get the fuck off me. I need to take a piss.”

He slides off Jungkook’s body, but instead of unlocking the handcuffs, he goes towards the closet and pulls out a cardboard box. 

Jungkook’s fists clench. “Are you deaf? I told you, I need to piss.”

“Then piss,” Jimin replies, glancing over his shoulder as his arms ruffle through the box.

“Here? Are you crazy? I need a fucking bathroom.”

Jimin turns around, putting his index finger against his lips before shaking his head. “No. you don’t.”

He sets a little metallic case on the nightstand and reaches for the water glass on the table, smiling at Jungkook before climbing onto the bed. Jungkook’s eyes widen when Jimin sets the remote on Jungkook’s chest and straddles his thighs, reaching for the hem of his sweatpants to tug his cock out.

“What are you doing?!”

“Helping Bunny pee?” he says in a tone as if it’s obvious. 

Jungkook shakes the restraints as Jimin holds onto his cock with delicate fingers, resting the head of his cock against the rim. “No! Get off me !” 

The cold glass tickles his cock, and he lets out a little hiss, throwing his head against the pillow at the sensation. He tries to kick Jimin off, but Jimin has all of his weight on his thighs, and Jungkook’s body is still weak. Jimin lets out a warning hum, tapping his index finger against the remote, and Jungkook stills. 

“Come on, Bunny,” he coaxes, waving his dick.

Jungkook shakes his head. “No.”

Jimin frowns, leaning over to press a hand against Jungkook’s lower tummy, rubbing over his bladder. Jungkook lets out a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries his hardest to hold it in. Then, Jimin turns around until he’s sitting directly on Jungkook’s bladder, causing him to cry out before gently bouncing up and down, increasing the pressure.

“No, no, no — ”

But it’s too late, and Jungkook loses complete control of his bladder as Jimin chuckles, thumb pressing into Jungkook’s head. 

“Good job, Bunny…” Jimin mumbles, caressing Jungkook’s cock with his knuckles as he holds the glass under his slit. “All that expensive wine… Eight million you said? Reduced to nothing but piss.”

Jungkook swallows, closing his eyes in hopes that it’ll stop, face burning in humiliation. The stream doesn’t finish until the glass is a little over halfway, and Jimin shakes the last few drops off his cock before standing up, holding the glass up to examine it. Jungkook worries that Jimin is going to make him drink it when he sets it by the little case.  

He pulls out a little pipette and picks up an amount of the urine at the bottom of the glass before piping it into a little test tube, drawing a little bunny on it with a sharpie before neatly tucking it inside the cushioned case.

“Please, tell me you’re not going to keep that,” Jungkook pleads.

“Of course not!” Jimin chirps, reaching into the box to pull out a plastic packet with a long, thin swab stick. “I’m testing you for any STDs.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Ex cuse me?”

But Jimin doesn’t answer, and Jungkook doesn’t try questioning it when he remembers the little remote waiting on his chest, a stark reminder to stay in his place. 

It doesn't take a genius to determine that Jimin is planning on having sex with him.

“You’re my new toy. And I love breaking my toys…” 

He squirms when Jimin wipes his hands with rubbing alcohol pads and puts on a pair of gloves before ripping open the packet. He pulls out the swab from the packet and takes a little bottle of clear liquid and squeezes it along the stick as he approaches the bed.

“I’m clean. There’s no need to — ”

“Oh, puh- lease . You wouldn’t know clean even if it hit you in the face. Unless you’re a virgin, of course. But with that near perfect cock, I doubt it.”

Jungkook is most definitely not a virgin, and the compliment swells his head with a sense of pride. 

He swallows, eyeing the swab as he hesitantly parts his lips. 

“Oh, this isn’t for your mouth, silly!” 

His hands reach down for Jungkook’s cock and his eyes widen, hips jutting up with a petrified gasp as Jimin presses the swab to his urethra. He watches with wide eyes as Jimin dips the swab in, his breath tightening as his mind tells him that something should be coming out. But no, the swab is going in .

Jungkook hisses at the burning, alien-like sensation, fists clenching as the cuffs clink when Jimin slides the swab impossibly deep, reaching into untouched, unexplored depths. He never knew his urethra could feel this much . 

“Are you sure it’s sup-supposed to go that deep?” 

“Yes,” is Jimin’s short reply. “Well — it doesn’t have to, but I’m just having some fun.”

Once the swab is fully settled in, Jimin begins to twist the swap clockwise, slowly pulling it out and pushing it back in as he does, fucking Jungkook’s slit. 

“Ah… Oh — ” 

Jungkook moans, hips twitching with Jimin’s hand firm around his hardening cock as he continues to “swab” up, down, and around, making full eye contact with Jungkook. Then, he pushes it to the hilt with his thumb until the handle is sticking out before hopping back on the ground. 

Jungkook looks down at his dick, twitching as the little handle sticks through his head.

Then, Jimin pulls out a needle, and Jungkook begins to panic. 

“Oh god. No. Not down there, please!” he cries, pulling helplessly at the cuffs.

Jimin says nothing, and Jungkook eases when he rubs an alcohol pad along Jungkook’s arm, searching for a vein before aligning the needle. Jungkook always hated needles, so he turns his gaze to the wall as Jimin sinks the needle in place, carefully removing a sufficient sample of blood. 

He glances over, unaware that Jimin had already broken skin since he was so precise. “How are you doing that?” he asks, voice shaky.

“I did nursing for about six years. Then, Eomma died, and I had to drop out to run the farm. The hens won’t feed themselves!” 

Jungkook wants to roll his eyes.  

When he’s done, he carefully removes the needle and squeezes the blood into a small test tube before drawing another bunny and setting it in the little case. With his other gloves hand, he reaches for Jungkook’s urethra and slowly removes the swab. Jungkook hisses, hips bucking up and Jimin presses his hand to the center of Jungkook’s pelvis as he writhes. The uncomfortable sensation of his urethra emptying seems to be drawn out forever until the swab is finally out. 

He slips it into a clean plastic bag and draws one last bunny with the sharpie before packing it alongside the other samples, closing the case and pulling the gloves off to toss them in the trash bin. 

“My friend Namjoon works at an urgent care in the town. He thinks I’m sending him my own samples,” he giggles. “Now, I have to run to get these to Joonie hyung in time.” Jungkook keeps his gaze on Jimin, lips downturned. Jimin looks at him and chuckles. “Don’t worry, Bunny. We’ll know by tomorrow night whether you’re going to be of any use.”

Before he can blink, Jimin grabs the case and the glass or urine before slamming the bedroom door shut, and Jungkook is left in his thoughts.

────

The next morning, Jimin is nowhere to be seen or heard. 

He has spent the last — he doesn’t even know how many hours tied to the same, creaky spring mattress, arms and legs bound to each corner of the frame. His wrists and ankles have been rubbed raw from all the tugging, trying to escape, until he realized it was useless.

The sun began to set a few hours after Jimin’s exit, and Jungkook didn’t fall asleep until late into the night, around 3 or 4 AM he guesses. 

But it’s hard to tell without a clock. 

He woke up to the fucking rooster at the crack of dawn and has been laying in here since as it crows throughout the day, bored out of his fucking mind. Outside the window, he can hear the chickens clucking, cows mooing, and the goats bleating, and as a city man, it’s driving him nuts. He presumes that Jimin is out doing farm chores, and wonders if he ever came back into the farmhouse last night or if he’s just that quiet. 

A farm. He’s from a fucking farm. 

Yet, he had deceived Jungkook so easily, so perfectly , and he almost feels a sense of admiration.

Though, the endless hours of boredom have given Jungkook plenty of time to think.

He isn't scared — not really. 

Or at least not anymore. 

Even with the collar snug around his neck, it doesn't faze him as much. He'll get used to it, learn to work around it like an animal adapting to its cage. 

If anything, he's calculating. 

Because sweet little Jimin has made one fatal mistake. 

He left him alive. 

He imagines what he’ll do once he’s free  — once he’s played the role long enough to lull Jimin to let down his guard to slip the collar away or forget the remote. He imagines the flicker of terror in Jimin’s eyes, the instant he understands who Jungkook really is. Not some helpless toy tied down, but a leopard, waiting to strike. 

The infamous Sawman . 

It sends a sharp thrill down Jungkook’s spine that inevitably travels to his cock.

For that reason alone — that flicker of terror —he chooses to keep his work a secret for now. 

And then, the first chance he gets, he’ll slice Jimin’s throat. 

Or perhaps he won’t.

Maybe he’ll fuck Jimin’s tight little body six ways to Sunday until he’s spent and hollowed out.

Tsk. Pretty privilege. 

Between keeping pretty little Jimin as his personal fleshlight and slicing through his flesh, he doesn’t know which one is more arousing, the line between lust and violence blurred. 

He lets the thought linger as his eyes remain on the Mr. Smiley crack in the ceiling, savoring it until he feels his cock twitch. 

His time will come. 

It always does. 

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the front door open, followed by constant clicks and clanks before footsteps come down the hall to another room across the hall. He doesn’t say anything and keeps looking up at Mr. Smiley until the footsteps return a few minutes later and wait at the doorway.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. 

Then, Jimin speaks. “Your tests came back today.” His voice is peppy, and it pisses Jungkook the fuck off.  

“Joy.”

When he begins to approach the bed, Jungkook lifts his head to sneer and his eyes widen, jaw going agape.

Jimin is naked. 

He’s fucking naked —

It’s not like Jungkook hasn’t seen a naked body — women, men, twinks . 

It’s that Jimin is everything Jungkook had imagined in the dark corners of his mind. Flawless skin, smooth like porcelain, gleaming in the light of the sun. His body is unnaturally hairless, like a doll crafted for pleasure, with that cute pink cocklette dangling between his legs, chubby, and maybe three or four inches long.

Oh, how Jungkook just wants to bite it .

It’s sickening, really, how pretty he is — like a gift waiting to be unwrapped and broken, sliced through. 

Jungkook has never sliced or fucked any living being that perfect . 

Jimin’s skin would look so pretty painted in red, and Jungkook is captivated by the idea of defiling such a pure canvas, creating a grotesque collage of flesh and blood. 

His cock continues to twitch as Jimin slowly crawls onto the bed, eyes as sweet as a lamb. Jungkook doesn’t miss the remote, clutched in his hand. He slowly rests to straddle Jungkook’s thighs, scooting forward to set the remote on the mattress beside him. His hands fiddle with the sweatpants to release Jungkook’s fat cock. It springs up to slap against Jimin’s belly, and he lets it stay there, one hand delicately caressing the shaft, the other dragging along Jungkook’s happy trail.

“You’re so hard. What were you thinking of, Bunny?” 

Jungkook lets out a scoff. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Jimin grins back, his soft, smooth balls squishing against Jungkook’s trimmed ones, his little cock swallowed by the size of Jungkook’s. His eyes trail down to Jungkook’s cock and they glaze. “So big…” he whispers, running his finger along the big vein to the tip as he licks his lips. “You’d reach — “ He taps just above his belly button. “ — right up here, Bunny…” 

Jungkook squirms, grunting quietly as Jimin’s small warm hands stimulate his cock, just barely wrapping around his girth. It aches and throbs with his bloody, violent thoughts, and he just wants Jimin to sink down on his cock and relieve him of the pressure.

Jimin reaches over Jungkook, his nipples just over Jungkook’s lips as his fingers grasp the sharpie. Jungkook can’t help but press his tongue against Jimin’s perky nipples, swirling his tongue around the nub and nibbling on it as Jimin pulls away with a shudder and a giggle. 

“Someone’s hungry,” he teases, popping the sharpie cap off to aim the tip of the pen at Jungkook’s swollen head. 

“What, are you drawing a fucking smiley face on it?” Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. 

His delicate hands press on Jungkook’s shaft, shifting his body closer and squishing their balls even more so that Jungkook’s entire length is pressed up against his soft, flat tummy. Then, he draws a little heart, right where the tip of Jungkook’s leaking cock ends just above his navel, and caps the sharpie before tossing it away.

“Perfect!” he chirps. 

Suddenly, he connects his thumb and middle finger and flicks the head from the side. Jungkook’s hips jump up with a yelp, still pressed down by Jimin’s weight as he giggles and does it again, feasting on Jungkook’s discomfort. He leans up, and his cock drags along Jungkook’s, shifting forward until Jungkook’s cock rests right against his crack, tip brushing the base of his spine. 

Jungkook moans, eyes tightening when Jimin begins to bounce up and down, Jungkook’s cock fucking the space between his cheeks. He thrusts his hips up, whimpering as Jimin lets out a breathy laugh as he reaches back with two hands, squeezing Jungkook’s cock with the flesh of his ripe ass.

“You wanna’ fuck me, Bunny? Wanna’ put your fat cock in my tight little hole?” he teases. Jungkook groans, nodding his head as the cuffs around him clink. “Is this what you were gonna’ do to me that night? Fuck my brains out before dumping me out on the streets? Huh?” 

“Was-was gonna’ kill you…” he whispers. 

Jimin’s lips part, but his hips move faster, this time back and forth as his hands squeeze his cheeks tighter. “Oh really?” he slurs, amusement lacing his voice.

Jungkook nods, eyes opening a sliver to look Jimin in the eyes. “Wanna’… Wanna’ fuck you limp. W-wanna’ slice you open — ”

His orgasm approaches him like a bullet train, and he continues to pathetically thrust his hips up into Jimin’s crack, balls growing tighter and tighter.

“You gonna’ cum soon, Bunny?”

“Ngh… Y- yes . Oh — ”

Jungkook shudders, and he’s impossibly close to cumming, ready to burst when all of a sudden, Jimin’s fat cheeks are gone, replaced with a stinging pain at the base of his cock. 

He cries out, eyes snapping open to see Jimin tying the drawstrings of the sweatpants around his cock and balls, pulling it taut until Jungkook’s balls are red and bulging around the string, cock sticking up with a throb. He lets out another cry of agony, hissing as Jimin hops off the bed, kissing the head of his still-hard cock, licking the pre-cum and sucking gently as he pulls away.

Then, he scurries out the room.

“JIMIN!” Jungkook roars. 

He simply disappears down the hall, giggling.

────

That night, Jungkook lies on his bed in the guest room, and his erection has managed to go down, though the edge itches at his brain. He’s tried to stray his thoughts to fresh, boring ones as his cock still continues to pulse weakly. 

A few hours ago, just after sundown, Jimin finally untied Jungkook and let him crank his limbs back into place before forcing him into the bathtub. He reminded Jungkook that the collar was electrical, so he had to be very careful with his words. Jimin gently washed him with warm water and soap, running a wet towel along the crevices of his face and neck, avoiding the collar. He made sure to delicately clean his cock, ruthlessly slapping it across the head when Jungkook sighed and closed his eyes, getting too relaxed with the mild pleasure. 

Then, he fed Jungkook some dinner: a seasoned chicken quarter with a small side of rice and stir-fried vegetables. 

“Growing rice and vegetables is difficult, Bunny. So I want you to promise me you’ll eat every grain,” Jimin said, speaking as though he was speaking to a child, knowing damn well Jungkook was hungry and would house it down.

And he did. 

The thought of hunger had not reached him until the moment he smelt the food, and then he felt the extreme emptiness in his stomach. 

Before Jimin shut the lights, Jungkook requested that he put a clock in the room, just so Jungkook could keep track of time. Jimin kindly agreed and propped one up against a chair and it ticked away.

Jungkook’s eyes stray over to it as he lies in bed, wearing a soft blue shirt and black shorts as he crickets outside chirp. 

11:23.

Down the hall, he can hear Jimin lounging in the living room with someone, giggling as a grainy, old-sounding movie plays on a TV. The bedroom door is open, and the dim blue light travels down the space to taunt Jungkook.

He wonders if the person sitting on that couch knows that he is there, tortured and tied up, but he doesn’t try to make his presence known, uninterested in anyone else seeing him in such a pathetic state. Judging by how Jimin left the door wide open, he either knows Jungkook is too prideful for his own good or his friend doesn’t give a rat's ass.

Energetic, theatrical, and fucking cheesy music blares down the hall, and he thinks they’re watching an American musical or a Broadway recording, but he was never one for them nor can he speak English, so he can’t identify it.

But it doesn’t matter because all he wants right now is a little bit of sleep to forget about the pain between his legs. 

Jimin and the unknown voice ring throughout the house.

“ ♪ The world according to Chris is better to punch than get punched! ♪ ”  Jimin sings.

“ ♪  Better to burn than get burned! ♪ ”  the other, much deeper voice continues.

The two voices mix. “ ♪ Learn that and you're gonna go far! 'Cause that's the way things are! ♪ ”

Jungkook’s face grimaces, eyebrows furrowing as he mumbles, “What the fuck is happening right now?” 

He’s tied up by a sociopath with a shock collar around his neck. 

And down the hall, said sociopath is gleefully singing to theater music. 

Everything feels so intensely surreal. 

With a sigh, he looks outside the window for a semblance of sanity to see a little black bunny hopping around the lawn, surrounded by fireflies. He grumbles to himself when the rabbit skips across unusually large dirt plots and thinks that Jimin has to do a better job because it just looks ugly.

The cringy, distasteful music continues, picking at Jungkook’s ears like razors, and he lets out a quiet growl, trying to cover his ears against the pillow and his arms.

But it’s futile, and it keeps him awake until 1:13 AM when the final song plays. 

Eventually, he falls asleep to clinking plates and distant giggles as Mr. Smiley stares down at him from the ceiling.  

────

Jungkook isn’t exactly sure how many days pass, but he thinks it might be either five or six. 

Sometimes they have normal conversations, sometimes they don’t. 

Jimin disappears in the early morning at the rooster's crow, and then again in the late afternoons when the sun is high. He returns for lunch and dinner, which he so kindly provides Jungkook. It’s always a balanced meal, usually with a grilled or smoked animal from his farm which he raised for meat along with some steamed vegetables with little to no seasoning. Everything is homemade except for an occasional side of kimchi, which Jimin goes into town to buy since it’s “too much effort” to ferment. 

He also bathes Jungkook every night at 7:30 and refuses to let Jungkook do it himself, however much he grumbles as Jimin scrubs his dick. 

It’s simply routine — nothing sexual to it. 

Jungkook worries about muscle atrophy, but he supposes he can negotiate something soon.

All the windows are barred shut and the large ones are lined with rusty metal bars outside the glass. There is a sundry of locks on the front and back door with the big bolt requiring its own key, along with little bells lining the rim. 

Jungkook is allowed to wander around the small farmhouse when Jimin is present and unoccupied, which consists of five rooms: a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. Though each room was clean and sparse, without any items Jungkook could potentially use as a weapon. As hard as he searched — playing it off as curiosity — he couldn’t find a single weapon. The cardboard box from the closet in his guest room was also empty. 

He knows that Jimin keeps his bolt pistol for livestock in a cabinet in his bedroom, but it’s secured shut with a steel lock. Even in the kitchen, all the cabinets are sealed, and Jimin only opens them to cook when Jungkook is tied up in the bedroom. 

Jungkook knows there is no way he can get out of here without Jimin either seeing or hearing him before activating the collar.  

Jimin doesn’t use the collar often, but he threatens it and makes sure that Jungkook can see the remote in his fingers. Jungkook knows he can control how long the torture lasts, so he makes sure to stay in line. While he can’t abuse Jimin or disobey orders, he can swear and act as sassy as he wants. 

It doesn’t bother Jimin nearly as much as ignoring orders.  

Sit. 

Sleep. 

Down.

Off. 

Eat. 

At least he isn’t making Jungkook crawl on all fours. 

Jungkook thinks it’s because he wants to have a human “plaything”.

Though, surprisingly, he can be normal at times. 

He sings with that sweet voice when he’s happy like when the chickens are laying eggs, when the cows produce good milk, when he sells his product to the locals — even when he returns from his chores to find Jungkook just the way he left him, as if he was capable of doing anything else.

But he hasn’t been happy enough to allow Jungkook any release or touch him in any way. 

Jimin stops by now and then to rile Jungkook up one way or the other, by either making out with his cock or rutting his little cocklette against it while he mocks him. He isn’t allowed to jack himself off, and Jimin said that if he catches Jungkook in the act, he’s going to make him regret it.

Part of Jungkook wants to test that theory, while a part of him screams to leave it alone for now. 

But he’s tied up whenever Jimin isn’t around, and with the collar, he won’t ever get the chance to. 

He doesn’t really have much to do to take his mind off the sensations between his legs.

There’s no internet so far into the pastures, and the only electronic Jimin appears to own is that stupid vintage TV that only plays cassettes and a cell phone for when he goes into the city. He only reads paperback books and weekly newspapers, and an organized pile sits on a shelf in the living room, decorated by old wooden figures and antique plates. 

His music taste is… Interesting.

He only listens to old cassettes and well-kept vinyl with songs or musical soundtracks ranging from the late 1800s to the late 1900s, never anything modern.

Jungkook hates it.

He stays sane by reminding himself that he’s not breaking, mumbling phrases of encouragement as he holds eye contact with Mr. Smiley. 

Sit, sleep, down, off, eat — he knows better than to let the meaningless words poison his mind.

He’s waiting. 

Always waiting.

An already tainted mind like his can’t be brainwashed that easily. 

Jimin’s games won’t last forever, and he’ll regret ever thinking he could tame him. 

The dark thoughts swirl around Jungkook’s head as he sits across the dinner table, head tilted down, eyes locked onto Jimin as he flips through the latest newspaper, a small pout on his lips. It’s past eight o’clock, and the tips of Jungkook’s dark hair remain damp from his bath, his lower body covered in nothing but a pair of sweats while he remains shirtless. 

Empty dinner plates lay in front of them, with reusable plastic utensils that Jimin has creatively wielded to a chain that attaches underneath the table. His fingers flip through the pages, eyebrows furrowing with intense focus as Jungkook just sits there like he isn’t even there in Jimin’s mind. 

“What are you reading?”

“The newspaper.”

“Yeah, I can fucking see that. I meant which article.”

Jimin runs a finger along the paper to read the headline. “Civilian Lee Jooshik’s mutilated body found in the back alleys of Seoul,” he voices out, not removing his gaze from the article. 

His greasy face flashes in Jungkook’s head, definitely the ugliest victim he’s picked. “What does it say?”

“With another gruesome discovery by a thirteen-year-old child, the Sawman continues to terrorize the city of Seoul — Jesus .” He cuts himself off, setting down the paper for a moment, looking at Jungkook with a small laugh before flicking it back up. “I wonder what’s going through that crazy fucker’s head…” Jimin mumbles. 

Jungkook scoffs, leaning back to cross his arms over his chest as he scans Jimin up and down before looking down at his plate. “Same here…”

“Though, I think if I ever met him, I’d beg him to fuck the life out of me.”

Jungkook’s eyes snap open, head darting towards Jimin. “You’d what ?!”

Jimin chuckles. “Jealous, Bunny?”

Jealous ? Jungkook was anything but. 

“Why — ”

“You see — Murder... It’s special. I think it takes fucking guts to end something so eagerly and delicately produced for humanity. Something that started as nothing more than a wart-sized cell was nurtured to life by a loving mother the moment it appeared on earth,” he says, eyes staring up into the ceiling with a little smile, so endearing that under any other context, it would be sweet. “It’s God’s work if you ask me, and oh, so fucking attractive.” The blonde looks at the younger with a little shrug, nonchalantly going back to the newspaper.

Jungkook swallows, debating his next moves. 

He’s never had a crush before. So, he doesn’t know what it feels like.

But…

As he watches Jimin now, he can’t deny the alien flutter deep in his chest and belly. It isn't the seething hatred he’s grown accustomed to. It's something different, something more twisted, more confusing . 

He hates Jimin — hates what he's done, what he's turned him into. He hates those perfect pink lips, those deceitful brown eyes, and that fat fucking ass —

But there’s something about the way Jimin talks about murder — like it’s a higher calling, something holy, something to be admired — and it makes Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat. 

Is this what a crush feels like?  

A mix of revulsion and admiration? 

He isn’t so sure. 

He thinks for a moment as his next words run through his head like a filmstrip of the future. 

Maybe it's to save some of his pride and show Jimin that he's more than what he's reduced to. He wasn’t always Jimin’s prisoner. He’s powerful , someone feared throughout the country. 

“It’s God’s work if you ask me, and oh, so fucking attractive.”

Or maybe, he’s searching for Jimin’s approval and admiration. 

Either way, the secret comes out. 

“It’s me.”

Jimin doesn’t even look his way as he turns the page. “What’s you,” he asks, uninterested.

“I’m the Sawman.”

Jimin freezes, looking Jungkook’s way for a moment. Then, he sets the paper against his lap and starts laughing, cackling . “Oh my god, you have to be kidding me!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he grumbles, “Am I fucking laughing?”

He laughs for a few more moments, but it dies down when he sees the serious expression in Jungkook’s eyes, the truth . 

Then, his eyes widen. “You killed this Lee Jooshik? You ?” 

Jungkook can’t tell if he’s taunting him, and he nods, smirking. “I did. And do you wanna’ know what I did to him, hyung ? I can tell you each and every step.”

Jimin shakes his head, pretty little eyes wide as saucers. “You don’t have access to the news. You can’t possibly — ” 

“First, I hit on him and made him feel like he was special, despite being single and fucking poor in his early forties, though, I’m sure that isn’t in the article. Insider information, to say the least.” He keeps his tone casual. “Then, I beat him unconscious with a metal bat until his teeth were scattered across the ground before skinning his ugly face. Then, I shoved his face into his own mouth and strangled him with his intestines. After that, I chopped him up into little pieces and scattered him across the alley behind Gungdo Café before running home to fuck into my favorite vibrating fleshlight. Also insider information,” he jokes. 

Jimin swallows and looks down at the paper to fact-check Jungkook. His eyes scan over the article, finger following it as his eyes widen. “Y-you’re right.” 

“Of course I’m right. I killed the fucking guy,” Jungkook hisses. 

Then, Jungkook lists all the people he’s killed, starting with Ms. Hana. 

As each name slips his lips, Jimin’s frame trembles stronger and stronger, and the newspaper falls to the ground as his hands curl to his sides, knees knocking. 

Jungkook smirks, eyes growing darker as he moves down the list leans back. “ — Kim Seojun. Kwon Doyoon. Lee Jooshik. That’s seventeen. And you…” he mumbles, pointing a finger towards Jimin. “You would have eventually been eighteen after serving your purpose to me .” Jungkook’s hands reach down to grab his groin with a vulgar hip roll, tongue flicking out to play with his lip ring. 

Just then, Jimin lets out a high-pitched keen, eyes rolling up as he shudders in his chair, head falling back. 

Jungkook pauses, eyebrows knitting together with blinking eyes and parted lips. 

The elder breathes heavily, ducking his head down as his knees fall open. “Oh…” he whispers, sounding almost like a moan.  

Then, Jungkook looks under the table to see Jimin’s pants soaked in the front, his fingers trembling on his thighs. “Did you just — ?” he starts, pausing. 

He expected Jimin to be terrified, shaking in his boots. 

But here he is. Creaming his pants. 

Suddenly, Jimin’s face changes again, a master of stagecraft as his eyebrows furrow in fear, lips pouting as he shakes his head. “N-no, Mr. Sawman…” he squeaks. 

Jungkook catches on quickly and smirks, sitting back against the chair and spreading his legs as he rests an arm behind him, the other squeezing his cock through the fabric. 

I guess I can work with that.  

“Do I need to punish you, Doll?”

“P-please, Sawman. Don’t kill me…” Jimin whimpers, hands coming up to grip the table until they’re white. 

Jungkook tilts his head as his cock twitches, hardening under the sweats and resting against his thigh. “Oh yeah? What should I do instead?”

Jimin slowly stands, fiddling with his fingers before they reach for the hem of his pants. He slides them off along with his underwear, kicking them to the side. “You could — spank me, Sawman…” he mumbles. 

He turns around, head halfway over his shoulder as he rests his hands on his plump ass, running them up and down the soft, spotless skin.

Jungkook swallows, the bulge in his pants very clear before he scoots the chair back, screeching against the wood. “Take your shirt off and get over my lap, Doll. Now .”

Jimin tosses his shirt to the side, breathing heavily as he approaches Jungkook and lies across his lap with a little grunt, the remote clutched tight in his hands. Jungkook sighs and places a hand against Jimin’s back to adjust him, spreading his thighs before running his fingers along Jimin’s warm spine. He trails them down to his ass while his cock rests against Jungkook’s thigh, leaking a few bits of delicious cum.

Jungkook lightly runs his fingers up and down his little cocklette, grazing his balls ever so lightly. He pinches Jimin’s pink head between his index finger and thumb, rubbing it between his fingers as Jimin whimpers quietly, hips twitching as his hands grab at Jungkook’s leg for purchase. 

He plays with Jimin’s ass for a few minutes, letting out greedy noises as he roughly kneads and jiggles the plump muscle. His hands grab onto one fleshy cheek, pulling it aside to view his clean, waxed hole, mercilessly tapping it a few times with an evil laugh just to watch Jimin squeak and squirm the way he made Jungkook.

Then, with one last low chuckle, he sits straight and adjusts Jimin so that his ass is propped up, rubbing the smooth skin. “How many?”

“Twenty.”

“Count them. Miss one , and I’m starting over.”

Then, the first slap hits. 

Jimin gasps, flinching forward at the sting before uttering a shaky, “O-one.” Jungkook hand smacks against his other ass cheek, this time with an equally hard blow. “Two…” he counts, quieter than a whisper.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” Jungkook teases, spanking Jimin again.

“Two!” he repeats with a cry.

Jungkook simply tuts, shaking his head. “You counted wrong. We’re starting over.”

Jimin’s head shoots over his shoulder. “Wh-what?!” Smack. He cries out, turning his gaze back to the floor. 

“Count,” Jungkook growls. 

Another whimper. “One,” Jimin says, hissing.

“Louder,” Jungkook orders, gripping the stinging flesh before administering the next spank in the same spot.

“Two!” Jimin cries out. The next spank crashes down onto his ass so hard that he shrieks at the stinging pain. ”Thr-three!”

His cock lays pathetically against Jungkook’s thigh, hard and rubbing against the sweats, staining the cotton and twitching with every strike. Jungkook doesn’t miss a single spot, covering Jimin’s entire cheek with his palm, painting it pinker and pinker. He’s unrelenting, putting all his force into every hard strike, intended to hurt Jimin. 

He loves his ass so much — from the way it ripples like water to the way it blushes so easily. His frilled hole clenches with every spank, and Jungkook thinks it’s ridiculously cute.

Between each count and spank, Jimin lets out quiet pleas, begging for the Sawman to spare him, and it sends electricity straight to Jungkook’s cock, poking against Jimin’s belly.

Jungkook continues to land hard, vicious spanks until they reach ten, and Jimin is crying and shaking. His fingers grip Jungkook’s leg, toes curling as his calves dangle up to try and shield the pain, but Jungkook pushes them back down and lands another strike on the curve of his perky bottom.

“P-please let me go, Sawman!” he rasps, looking up at Jungkook through teary eyes.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, “What was that?”

Jimin sniffles, biting his lips. “Please let me go…” he whispers.

Jungkook smirks. “You didn’t count. We’re starting over again.”

Jimin’s face falls, and he lets out a whine, ass on fire as Jungkook roughly pushes his head back down, propping his ass back up on his knee. “No! I’ll be good! I prom — Ah !” 

His ass jiggles exceptionally hard with this spank, voice becoming breathless as he counts with a broken note. Jungkook’s whacks become faster and Jimin is forced to process the pain at a matching pace as his tears paint the floor, mind going fuzzy while he struggles to spit out the numbers in a steady voice. 

“T-ten. Ah… “Eleven! Hah… Please, don’t kill me, Mr. S-Sawman, sir — oh !” Jungkook chuckles. That one sounded more like a moan. He hits the opposite cheek, the loud clap echoing in the room.“T-twleve. W-won’t tell anyone, I s- swear — NGH! Thirteen…”

Jungkook reaches a few fingers down, rubbing them along Jimin’s little cock, his hips bucking, driving back to rut against Jungkook’s hand. He presses a palm on Jimin’s back with a grumble. “Stay still,” he orders before landing another strike.

“Hhh! Fourt-four teen !” Jimin half shouts, half moans, head throwing back with his eyes squeezed shut as Jungkook’s fingers work around his cock faster. 

Jungkook continues to squeeze and wrap his fingers around his cock as he writhes, counting each spank meticulously every second until they near twenty. On the eighteenth strike, Jimin’s body begins to shudder like before, toes curling, hole clenching. 

“E-eighteen. Gonna’… Gonna’ c- cum — ” 

Suddenly, Jungkook removes his hands and lands the nineteenth strike, and Jimin cries out, sputtering cum with a pornographic moan, hips jutting against Jungkook’s sweats. “Nineteen!” he mewls.

“Good boy,” Jungkook praises, landing the final blow to Jimin’s cheek.

He yelps, knees and arms trembling as he falls limp in Jungkook’s lap. “Twenty. Th-thank you, Sawman…” he whispers, sniffing.

Jungkook hums, running his hands along his work, not to soothe but to admire.

There is a visible wet patch on his sweats as Jimin’s cum dribbles down his thigh, dripping to the floor. His ass is a pretty, peachy color, hot to the touch, but it doesn’t satisfy Jungkook.

He doesn’t want to stop until it’s cherry red.

A few seconds after Jimin finishes the count, he is about to stand up when Jungkook fists a hand in his blonde locks, pushing him back down as he lands another harsh spank on his thick, bouncy ass. 

Jimin gasps, and Jungkook hears a little clatter. “Bunny, that’s twenty,” he warns. 

Jungkok glances down and sees the remote on the ground, just barely out of reach from Jimin’s fingertips. By the way Jimin’s voice calms, breath quiet, Jungkook knows he’s praying the slip goes unnoticed.

But it’s too late.

Jungkook keeps going, landing more brutal spanks to each of Jimin’s ass cheeks in succession as he begins to kick and scream. “I’m gonna’ fuck you tonight, Doll. Fuck you so hard until the only name you’ll ever be able to scream is Sawman .” 

His eyes lock onto Jimin’s burning, jiggly cheeks as his rough hand makes contact. Some of his spanks graze over Jimin’s pink, squishy balls, and he begins to aim his strikes at the soft, sensitive scrotum of his sac.

“Bunny! Oh — Ah! Stop it!”

Jungkook just growls like an animal guarding his food, propping his knee higher and pushing Jimin’s thigh aside, pulling his balls back for more access.

“I’ll spank your perfect ass and your squishy little balls like this every goddamn day until you’re black and blue .” 

“Bunny — STOP!” Jimin screeches, tears no longer flowing, replaced by anger. 

As hard as he tries, he can’t grasp the remote, and Jungkook doesn’t move him away from it. He wants to keep Jimin just barely out of reach to taunt him because eventually, he’ll pick it up and shock him. He knows this will hurt his chances of Jimin slipping up again , but he doesn’t care because right now, Jimin is the one writhing and Jungkook’s ego is fucking thriving . 

“Next, I’ll use a crop. Or maybe some fine birch so that you’ll bleed, and I can lick it all off until the pain is consumed into overwhelming pleasure.” 

“GET OFF ME!” 

“I’ll shove my cock into your holes whenever I want to. And when you’re of no use to me anymore, I’m gonna slice your taut little belly open with a poultry knife like a baby lamb and feed you to your noisy fucking animals — ” Jungkook emphasizes his anger with each slap to Jimin’s soft, swelling balls as he continues to squirm and shout. 

Jungkook counts until he hits fifty-three — not including the spanks before Jimin messed up — before he finally manages to snatch the remote from the ground.

“Then, I’ll fucking jack off in your bed — AH !” his rant is cut off, and he drops Jimin to the ground, rolling off the chair with a heave.

He lays there for a moment, sitting against the chair as Jimin rises, turning his back to Jungkook and looking down at his reddened ass. His plump cheeks are dark, opaque, and burning. They’re not the cherry red Jungkook was hoping for, but they’re close enough. Then, he examines his balls, bright pink as well, and he turns them left and right with a pained hiss.

He runs a delicate over his burning skin with a pout before looking at Jungkook with a growl.

Jungkook heaves, a smirk forming on his lips as Jimin lifts the remote and presses the button again, holding it down until Jungkook is back on his side, body jerking violently as drool drips down his lip. Jimin continues to give him spaced-out shocks as he hauls Jungkook down the hall by the collar. He grabs an item from his drawer in the guest room before dragging Jungkook towards the back door. He kicks it open, and Jungkook barely has any time to process the outside before he’s hauled down a flight of stairs and tossed down the second half. 

Before he knows it, his wrists are chained to a concrete wall, and Jimin plants a strong foot on his abdomen. Then, he yanks down Jungkook’s sweats and slaps his hard, aching erection and swollen balls with a riding crop until he’s hissing and crying, begging for release as pre-cum dribbles down his cock.

On the fifty-third strike, Jimin bites on his bottom lip, slapping Jungkook’s hard, sensitive nipples a few times while he jacks off over his welted cock before storming up the stairs and slamming the cellar doors shut with a click. 

Jungkook coughs, forcing himself up to lean back against the wall with heaving breaths as the cold breeze sends a shudder down his exposed body. He grins under the moonlight beaming through the cell bars, the pain from his welts blending with the sick pleasure of Jimin’s cum trailing down his veiny girth The cellar is below ground level and outside, he can see the black bunny running along the grass, munching grass before moving out of sight. 

He sighs, thudding his head against the wall. 

He might have just fucked up his chances of escaping.

But with Jimin right there on his lap without the remote in his hands, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to let out his anger . 

He needed it. 

The chains linking to the cuffs around his wrist are long, and he can reach his unsatisfied, throbbing cock if he wants to. 

But he doesn’t.

He knows it’s a test. 

So he sits back against the wall, entertaining this thrilling game of power-tag a little longer, with a pathetic hope that Jimin will forgive him.  

Jimin: 3

Jungkook: 1

────

Jungkook wakes up to a hoard of cows mooing. 

He squints against the light, shielding his face for a moment before remembering where he is and looking out the barred window. Multiple pairs of hooves walk by the opening as the animals huff and moo. His entire body is aching, especially his shoulder blades, and he rolls them back with a hiss, slowly cranking his neck to try and stretch a little bit.

As expected, he’s unaware of the time.

He looks down at his poor cock, resting against his thigh, covered in Jimin’s dry cum. 

It’s still a little red and welted, but there is no bruising, and it doesn’t necessarily hurt as he trails his fingers over it, testing the pain. It twitches weakly as the memory of last night simmers in his veins. Luckily, he’s just a little sore around the underside of his head, and he carefully tucks it back into his pants with a sigh. 

Fuck me. 

He doesn’t get a visit from Jimin, nor any food until later in the evening when the sun is gone and his stomach is growling. He perks up when the empty cellar door finally creaks open, followed by a lightbulb Jungkook didn’t notice flicking on. He squints with a little grumble, slowly letting his eyes adjust. 

Jimin walks down the steps, hands by his side as he clutches his cardigan. “Hello, Bunny,” he says, smiling sweetly. Jungkook doesn’t respond with anything more than a grunt. “Do you know what day it is?” he continues, tilting his head.

Jungkook shrugs. “No fucking clue. What is it, Friday?” 

Jimin frowns. “It’s the thirteenth.”

“Friday the thirteenth? Oh, what a fucking — “ 

Then Jungkook remembers. 

Jimin hums, voice saccharine. “I’m twenty-seven today.” 

The younger rolls his eyes. “Alright, what do you want? A gold medal?” 

He half expects Jimin to shock him, but he doesn’t and, instead, sets the remote down on the ground while his fingers grab the buttons of his cardigan. He pulls it off, tossing it to the side before unzipping his jeans, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook.

One by one, he discards each piece of clothing, deliberately slow before lowering to his knees with innocent eyes. Jungkook swallows, looking down at Jimin’s pink cock as he gently strokes it until it is hard. Then, he turns around and gets on all fours, showcasing his still-peachy ass. 

There are little finger-shaped marks up and down his ass — Jungkook’s fingers. 

He wants to turn them into bruises. 

“Look at what you did to me, Sawman…” Jimin whispers. 

Jungkook’s breathing becomes heavy as Jimin arches his back and shakes his ass left and right to showcase his pinching, stretched-out hole, slowly crawling further and further away. 

Before he knows it, Jungkook’s cock is hard, painfully pressing against the thick fabric. 

“Jimin — “

 “I don’t want a gold medal. I want a gift. Your big — fat cock inside me.” 

Jungkook breaks. 

He throws himself forward, arms and body held back by the limited chain length as he gets on his knees. His hair hangs messily over his face as he growls, pulling to try and break free. His hips are inches from Jimin, and if he wasn’t chained to this fucking wall, he’d be balls deep in him by now. 

Jimin simply giggles. 

He rests his chest against the floor, reaching back with two hands to pull his cheeks apart. Then, he sinks two fingers from each hand inside with a squelch, lube trickling down his perineum as he pulls his winking hole open. 

Jungkook thinks back to last night — Jimin's soft whimpers of his alias , the way his body arched beautifully as Jungkook spanked him raw. 

His restraint cracks. “Let me fuck you. Please.” Desperation bleeds through. 

Jimin hums, shaking his perky ass again. “Beg.”

Fucking hell. 

Jungkook groans, tugging at the chains once more as his knees ache against the concrete. 

His pride wars with his desperation, but he needs to play this degrading game if he wants to get what he wants. He hasn’t cummed in nearly a week after non-stop edging.

It fucking hurts. 

“I need it, Jimin. Need you so bad. Nobody — nobody has ever known who I am aside from you. Want to — need you — “ His chest curls at the sound of his own voice, but he keeps going. “I’ll — I’ll fuck the life out of you with my fat cock. That’s what you want, right?”

His words come out soft, just above a whisper — calculated . But he knows what he’s doing — carefully giving Jimin authority, inflating his sense of control.

Jimin smirks, amused by the way Jungkook’s voice sounds so weak and helpless. He finally looks over his shoulder with a dainty, condescending stare, eyes wide, lips parted. “You wanna’ taste me first, Bunny?” 

Jungkook nods, growling like a beast. 

Jimin’s hole looks delicious. So ravishing —

Then, he slowly turns back around and scoots back a few inches with a hum, getting on his elbows, fingers fiddling with the remote. 

Jungkook waits. 

Even though Jimin is in reach, he fucking waits for orders.

It’s humiliating — but necessary, so close to finally cumming in a warm, tight-fitting hole. 

Jimin hums softly, shaking his ass once more. “Eat.” 

Jungkook dives to his knees, both hands landing on Jimin’s cheeks to pull them apart before he’s eating away. Jimin’s flesh spills through his fingers, and he squeezes and massages as his tongue presses flat against Jimin’s rim, leaving an open-mouthed kiss against his entrance. He moans, throwing his head back as he pushes his ass into Jungkook’s face. 

The younger leans down and licks the base of his swollen balls, all the way up his perineum to his soft, warm hole. 

Jimin giggles, letting out a quiet moan. “Bunny learnt his lesson last night?” he taunts. 

You wish. 

Jungkook simply growls, teeth gently biting Jimin’s sweet ass before moving back to his delicious hole. He swirls his tongue around the tight ring, savoring the taste before dipping his tongue inside with a hum. Jimin shudders with a mewl, hole clenching sporadically as Jungkook explores his walls with loud, wet noises. Jimin lets out a broken sound, the warm slide of Jungkook’s tongue giving him heightened pleasure around his rim.

His tongue pulses in and out of Jimin’s hole, the slide gets easier with every moment, saliva mixing with lube, dripping down his perineum. 

“Taste so — so good…” he mutters, muffled against the puffy entrance, lightly nibbling with his teeth as it twitches and clenches. 

Then, he pulls away with a smack and grabs Jimin’s thighs to pull him closer. He playfully gasps, pale knees dirtying against the ground as Jungkook fiddles with his sweats to let his cock free. He runs it along Jimin’s perineum with a hiss, head catching on his wrinkling hole.

Jimin laughs again. “Come on, Sawman. Fuck me, already. I’m all yours — ooh —”

Before Jimin can finish his taunt, Jungkook is halfway inside his tight hole, keeping his bruising grip on his fleshy thighs. Jimin moans from his chest, head falling forward. A growl rumbles from Jungkook as he pulls out slowly for Jimin to feel every agonizing inch, and for his eyes to watch his hole grasp onto his shaft like a pair of lips until only his tip is nestled inside. Then, he snaps his hips forward once with a grunt, slapping against Jimin’s ass with a jiggle, pausing there to let Jimin take in the sensation as he gasps, hold squeezing around Jungkook in anticipation.

Then, Jungkook begins to pound into him, skin slapping against skin with every thrust. Jimin squeaks as Jungkook hands cling to his hips, drawing his body back to meet every thrust. His fingernails push into his delicate skin, leaving red, crescent-shaped marks as Jungkook jerks his little body around like a doll. His strokes are powerful, brutal as his cock stretches out Jimin’s walls, squeezing around him like a vice. 

He isn’t sure if he’s fucking Jimin for his own relief or to show off his raw strength, a likely mix of both.  

Soon, he builds to a deadly pace, feasting on the warm heat swallowing around his cock, mesmerized by the soft fat jiggling and bouncing off his sculpted v-line. His steady, hard thrusts — intended to make Jimin’s entire frame shake as his ass collides with Jungkook’s hips — punch slutty , broken moan after moan from Jimin’s lungs. His filthy whines resound throughout the cellar, bouncing back in an alluring harmony of pleasure. His eyes stay shut with every deep, pounding stroke until Jungkook’s tip breaches into his stomach and he wails like a little lamb, face curling.

Jimin’s tiny cocklette, pink and leaking, hangs prettily between his legs — flopping back and forth against his stomach with every harsh thrust as Jungkook’s cock fucks into him without limit. He moans uncontrollably, head throwing back as a hand touches his stomach, Jungkook’s fat cock protruding against his lower belly. A smile fills his face, and he looks down, frowning when the bulge of Jungkook’s cock doesn’t reach the little sharpie heart. 

Jungkook is lost in the warm, wet pleasure, roughly fucking Jimin as his eyes are sealed shut, tongue biting on his bottom lip as animalistic snarls leave his jaw. His cock pulses within Jimin, his big balls slapping against Jimin’s to spread around the open cellar.

And then, without warning, there’s a zap to his neck and his eyes fly open with a cry as he falls to the floor, shaking. 

His head snaps towards Jimin, who sits on his heels. “What?!” he hisses, close to tears of frustration.

Jimin points a finger at the little heart on his tummy, tapping it twice. “Here,” he orders. 

Then, he turns around and gets back onto his elbows, head halfway over his shoulder as if to say “come on.” Jungkook growls and pulls him back once more before forcing back in, full ass cheeks flush to his pelvis. He slides a hand down Jimin’s back to tangle it in his hair, spreading his fingers before tugging Jimin up onto his knees and sliding the other hand across his abdomen to trap him close.

A particular thrust right into his prostate has him lost, quivering from his thighs to his curled toes as he writhes, and Jungkook smirks, aiming every thrust after that with pinpoint accuracy to press along his prostate into his stomach until Jimin is gasping for air. He fucks in with such strength that Jimin has trouble staying upright, and he reaches a hand back to grip Jungkook by the hair. Jungkook doesn’t let his body slip, grinding his hips with every sharp thrust as loud slaps and vulgar moans echo through the cellar. 

Jimin’s hand lightly runs across the heart, and this time, the heart protrudes along with his skin. He lets out a breathy laugh, whining and drooling as Jungkook’s teeth nibble on his earlobe, fingers grasping his chest to tweak and pinch his sensitive little nubs until they’re aching.

He runs a large hand down Jimin’s sternum, stopping to feel his cock through Jimin’s taut belly and pressing over the bulge to increase the tightness. Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head with a hoarse giggle as Jungkook grunts into his ear, throwing him back onto his hands and knees, plowing into him without missing a beat. 

“You’re a sociopath , you know that?” he mutters, landing a rough spank to Jimin’s right ass cheek, keeping his hand to grip the flesh.

Jimin looks over his shoulder with broken ‘ah’ s as a lazy, sadistic grin spreads across his face.  “Y-You’re the one f-fucking me — ah — ah... What — what does that make you ?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly, and he shoves Jimin onto his chest to press two hands on his shoulder blades, holding him down as he pummels his cock in and out of Jimin’s squelching hole. His cheek presses against the cold concrete, eyes crossed with drool spilling down his lip as his hands lay limp by his head. 

“Look at you…” he mutters, continuing to thrust into Jimin’s ass like a fleshlight. “You love my thick cock, huh? Like a little slut? The Sawman’s tight little cockslut ?”

Jimin struggles to grab the polished ground and settled for fisting his hands as he cries and whines with every thrust into his belly, clenching his hole to milk Jungkook’s cock. “L-love your cock so m-much, Saw-Sawman!” he whimpers, crying out. 

Jungkook groans, head lolling back as his hands slide down Jimin’s back to grip his hips, dragging Jimin across the concrete to meet him. His pace turns dangerously erratic, feral as sweat drips from his temples, falling onto Jimin’s round cheeks to roll down his skin, every thrust bringing him closer to the edge. 

“You’ll be my doll? My fleshlight? Let me fuck your filthy hole like this whenever I feel like, whether you want it or not?”

“Yes — Wanna’… Ngh — Wanna’ be Sawman’s s-slutty trinket — ” He’s cut off by his own yelp when Jungkook flicks his cock again, hole clenching even tighter at the pain.

Jungkook laughs and does it again, and then a third time as Jimin gasps and squirms, his hole squeezing around his cock. “You like that?”

“Y-yeah!” he mewls, brain full of nothing but cock cock cock .

Every muscle tenses as the wave of pleasure boils in his belly, swelling within his balls as they slap against Jimin’s. He keeps his rabid pace in and out of Jimin’s trembling body, hole slopping wet as his orgasm builds, rushing to his cock fast. 

“Say it. Say my name again,” Jungkook growls.

The blonde just mewls, stuttering out incoherent babbles, plump, cherry lips hanging open lazily. “S-s… Ah… Ngh — ” A blistering spank to his welted ass cheek draws a broken scream. “S-Sawman!” he moans out, eyes blowing wide as his body trembles, falling limp.

Jungkook moans out loud, cursing as he burrows his cock deep within Jimin, twitching and throbbing as his cum spurts out against Jimin’s silky walls, feeling never-ending as his head buzzes with the aftershock.

But Jimin isn’t done.

He crawls forward, Jungkook’s cock sliding out with a squelch, saliva, lube, and cum stringing along as he turns to face Jungkook on his knees. “Wanna’ ride you…” he mumbles, pushing Jungkook back by the chest for him to fall against the wall, heaving.

Jungkook swallows, grabbing his leaking cock to pump it back to hardness as he stares at Jimin’s fucked-out face, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, lips bitten red. Jimin waits until Jungkook’s cock, full of stamina, rises before clambering onto Jungkook’s body, bracketing his thick thighs. He lifts himself up and Jungkook’s head pokes at his hole before he sinks down in one swift motion, throwing his head back with a moan.

“So… So big — ” he whines, and Jungkook wraps a hand around his neck, thumb resting under his chin while his other grips a muscly ass cheek.

He places his palms on Jungkook’s big chest, prettily arching his back, hips rising until only Jungkook’s head is inside. Then, he slams back down, the curve of his meaty ass clapping against Jungkook’s pelvis. Jungkook stares down at Jimin’s tummy, the bulge returning to press along the little black heart as Jimin keens, his cocklette slapping against his abdomen. Jungkook rubs along his prostate with every drop-down before breaching his stomach, and Jimin can’t contain the bubbling cries from the back of his throat. 

Jungkook grunts, loud and frantic, panting as Jimin fucks himself faster, doughy cheeks rippling with their impact on the younger’s toned body. He clenches with a vice-like grip as he raises up, unclenching to suck Jungkook back into his greedy hole with a wet, vulgar sound. 

He moves his hands down to Jimin’s hips when he slows, cocking an eyebrow when Jimin stills, grinding back and forth with little desperate whines. “What’s wrong, Doll? Tired?” he teases.

Jimin’s lips hang open, looking down at Jungkook with hooded eyes, heaving with exhaustion. “C-can’t…”

Jungkook tuts before grabbing Jimin’s ass cheeks, lifting him by the flesh to let gravy drop him down onto his cock with lewd suctions. Jimin whimpers in pain and Jungkook grins, thrusting his hips up as Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head, gargles leaving his throat as his neck lolls to one side.  

“Does that hurt, Doll?” he asks, massaging the flesh between his fingers. Jimin just nods, eyes tearing up with the mix of pleasure and pain as Jungkook’s balls slap his ass. “You can handle it, though. Right?

Jimin whimpers and nods, leaning back slightly to let Jungkook’s cock press harder against the skin of his stomach. “S-still hurt from — ah… Last n-night…” he whispers, grazing his fingers over his delicate balls. 

“Yeah? Did Sawman spank you good? Hard ?” Jungkook asks, cocky, reaching a hand down to fondle them in his fingers as he plants his heels and pistons up violently, sending Jimin cross-eyed once again. 

“S-so good. So ha- hard …” Moans and sobs, muffled by his cries, ring out from his throat as Jungkook plunges into him.

“Like the way I fuck you, Doll?” Jungkook taunts again, and Jimin can’t answer when his eyes roll back in ecstasy, tongue lolling out against his lips. 

He leans forward and fists Jimin’s hair, pulling his head closer to crash their lips together in a dirty, open-mouthed kiss full of tongue and teeth as his other hand reaches down to rhythmically squeeze around Jimin’s cocklette, pulsing between his palms and fingers. 

Jimin’s orgasm hits and blinds him as his eyelids flutter, whimpering into Jungkook’s lips as he jacks his little cock off, cum spraying onto Jungkook’s chest, a few drops landing on his collarbones like cream frosting. His muscles cease, and his eyes blow open as he pulls away from Jungkook’s lips with a smack, head falling back with a cry as his body twitches and turns from the overstimulation.

Jungkook doesn’t back down as he shakes, whining a tired, pitiful sound as Jungkook’s sturdy length continues to ram into him, stimulating his prostate with ceaseless pressure on his cock from Jungkook’s warm, calloused hands. 

“Just like that, Doll. Taking my cock so fucking well. My little cockslut,” he hisses.

“Yes — yes !” Jimin nods mindlessly, reaching a hand up to grip Jungkook’s hair as he is held down on Jungkook’s monstrous cock without mercy. 

He trembles like a throttled marionette, hips jutting left and right to escape the overwhelming sensations, but Jungkook keeps a firm grip on him until he’s limp and gasping, fat ass cheeks continuing to clap against Jungkook’s balls until he’s spilling into Jimin again with a groan.

Jungkook grinds into Jimin’s ass, riding out his orgasm before smacking his hips against Jimin’s ass one more time for good measure as he lets out a whimper, slumping into Jungkook’s chest. He pats Jimin’s ass twice with his tatted arm before his body falls slack, muscles burning and aching. 

His chest rises up and down as Jimin sits up and slides off his cock, his puffy rim snagging against the fat head of Jungkook’s cock to release with a little pop. Jungkook watches a mix of saliva, lube, and seed ooze out of Jimin’s wrecked, gaping hole, ring puckering like a little flower as he takes the remote into his hand. 

He crawls away and falls to his side with a gasp, vision spinning, and he waits there for a moment, keeping a firm grip on the remote. 

The room is filled with nothing but the sounds of the night and the panting of two fucked-out men. 

Then, Jimin finally sits on his heels to stand up, knees wobbling as the various liquids slide down his perineum to dribble onto the floor. Jungkook remains in place, eyes covered by his hair as his tired, soaked cock lays against his thigh, a few drops of his cum dribbling from his tip.

Jimin looks over his shoulder at Jungkook with what appears to be a judgmental glare — as if Jungkook is the only one who did the filthy deed.

“I’ll be back for you in the morning.” 

Then, he walks back up the steps and shuts off the light, slamming the cellar door behind him.

────

Eventually, a month passes. 

Or at least Jungkook thinks it’s a month. He still isn’t given a calendar. 

Jimin keeps the same routine until Jungkook learns to enjoy the bath.

At some point, he asked permission to work out, so now in the morning time, Jimin locks him in the cellar. He removed the lightbulb, leaving Jungkook no room for a weapon and even took away exposed and unused pipes. The room is empty save for the thick chains welded to the wall and a shaggy little rug. 

Jungkook does the best he can with no weights, no machines — just the floor and his body.  

If you have a floor, you have a gym.

He uses a thick, concrete beam in the roof as a makeshift pull-up bar, and the width and grip make the workout more effective than he thought. Slowly, Jimin even gave him a freestanding punching bag, allowing him to channel his frustration and anger with powerful punches and kicks.

The sex is something else, delicious and unpredictable, and he doesn’t mind it. 

Sometimes, Jimin wants Jungkook to hurt him, either with his hand or various whips and canes as he screams “Sawman” and begs for his life. Jungkook loves slapping him around, from his pretty little face down to his tight little pucker. 

He just adores how quickly he reddens, the sight of pink skin satisfying.

Other times, he ties Jungkook up while he runs a knife along his own flesh to leave little white scratches, tapping the blade against his bouncing cocklette as Jungkook watches slack-jawed. 

He wonders if Jimin partly enjoys being submissive and if this twisted power-tag is actually what he wants from Jungkook. 

Even so, he’s been on his best behavior, unsure whether Jimin is aware of his playacting, though he would probably applaud Jungkook’s effort and consistency. 

He plays strictly by the rules. He finishes his food, takes his baths, keeps his hands away from his cock, and follows orders. 

Most importantly, he doesn’t fight back. 

He didn’t say anything when Jimin refused to let him read the newspapers, shielding him from the outside world to dwell in isolation. He didn’t say anything when Jimin invited the same friend over last night to watch another noisy musical. And he didn't say anything when Jimin idly painted over Mr. Smiley in his room, shocked and partly disgusted at the attachment he had to a fucking ceiling crack simply because it was the only other face he had access to . He punched the sand bag for hours after that. 

Jimin hasn’t slipped once since that night when he dropped the remote, and Jungkook is beginning to wonder how long it would take.

But after seeing his submission and how dedicated he is to keeping his hands away from his cock, Jimin lets Jungkook wander out of sight within the baby-proofed farmhouse now. 

It’s a small change, but a monumental one. 

He also upgraded Jungkook’s mattress with a three-inched topper, and he’s even gotten comfortable lighting essence candles, though he keeps the lighter in his pocket, right next to the remote.

But he’s always careful, whether it’s fishing out imperfect eggs to eat himself rather than sell or locking every single lock on the door. He still doesn’t cook when Jungkook is free in the house. 

Jungkook quietly watches from his bed as Jimin lights the black candle on the windowsill, tongue flicking out to run along his bottom lip as he snaps the black lighter closed. He sets it on the table next to the remote and steps back with a “whew,” tugging off his pants and tossing them aside.

“Can we change the cuffs, please?” Jungkook asks as Jimin fetches his work pants from the opposite room.

“Why?” he calls, pieces of clothing being tossed onto the floor while he slides on his blue overalls. 

“Because… My wrists are getting all cut up,” he whines, jingling the handcuffs. 

Jimin peers around the door frame with a furrow between his brows before disappearing again. “No. Nobody else had an issue with it. Why do you ?”

Jungkook swallows, remembering the way he purposefully pulled at the cuffs to gnaw on his skin. “I move around a lot when I sleep. Can’t help it. And they’re so heavy!”

Jimin finishes adjusting his overalls and walks back into the room, leaning over Jungkook to examine his skin. He frowns when he sees the little red marks wrapped around Jungkook’s wrists, a few scabbing and bruising. “No.”

Jungkook whines again, kicking his feet. “Please! Just — Just for a little bit. You can use some rope — ” That I can bite through. “ — or even — ”

“Zip ties,” he interrupts, pressing a finger against Jungkook’s lips to shush him, pushing his top lip to a duck-like pucker. “I’ll use zip ties for today, and I’ll wrap your wrists tonight. Then, It’s back to the cuffs, okay?”

He nods furiously, whispering “thank you” over and over again as Jimin exits the room, shaking his head with a little smile. He comes back with a handful of zip ties and attaches Jungkook to the cuffs, one by one, giving him a few extra inches of freedom.

As Jimin attaches the last zip tie to his ankle, he sits up, his hands on the mattress beside him as he comfortably pulls a heel to rest by his knee. “What were you watching last night? With your friend?” 

Jimin glances his way. “ Fiddler on the Roof . Ever heard of it?” Jungkook shakes his head and Jimin sighs dramatically. “Taehyung remains to be the only other person in this country who appreciates the old runs. Entertainment today continues to be absolute trash — ” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, thinking back to the pretty hazel-haired in the club, dancing with Yoongi. “Taehyung?”

He got away?

“Yeah. Taehyung,” Jimin confirms as he secures the last zip tie. “Taehyung and I… We’re very similar, you know. He has his own farm a few hours from here.”

Jungkook’s eyes twitch, but he quickly irons his face straight. “I see.”

Jimin stands straight, looming down over Jungkook, eyes trailing down to his groin, bulging even when soft. “You’re very lucky, you know. The last one didn’t last very long. Wouldn’t assume his role fast enough. I mean to be fair — ” He shrugs, rolling his eyes playfully. “ — none of them did. Some even tried to pretend that they were. Can you believe it? But some… Oh, some of them just really pissed me off. You’re lucky that your cock is as good as it is, otherwise, I would have killed you weeks ago,” he finishes, laughing as if it’s a joke.

Jungkook swallows. “What?”

“Yeah. I think his name was… Minsoo? Minhyung? Mingi? Eh. I just called him Kitty. He wouldn’t follow directions after a whole two months — and his cock wasn’t even that big, so I just buried him alive with the others. But you — “ He taps Jungkook’s nose with a little “boop,” and he goes cross-eyed trying to keep his eyes on it. “You’re doing so well for me, Bunny. Aren’t you?”

Jungkook’s mind falters to the unusual mounds of dirt he saw in the backyard, and he quickly glances out the window. 

They’re not shitty plots.

They’re graves —   

His heart thumps in his head, and Jimin sighs, looking up at the clock. 

“Alright, Bunny. I must go do the chores now. Those rabbits are destroying my garden plot. It’s starting to get annoying,” he grumbles. “I’ll be back, Bunny. Then we’ll have some playtime,” he says, roughly patting Jungkook over his crotch.

He grunts, hips bucking up as Jimin laughs, disappearing down the hall.

Jungkook listens closely as he shuffles in the living room before the telltale record player bursts to life with blaring trumpets. 

“ ♪ We'll meet again. Don't know where. Don't know when ~ ♪ “

He glances back out the window as the front door slams shut before he spots the remote on the bedside table. His breath hitches, eyes widening.

He grabbed the wrong one.

“ ♪ But I know we'll meet again some sunny day ~ ♪ ” 

It doesn’t take Jungkook more than a second to decide that this is his chance. 

In light of new information — he can’t stay here. 

Not like this. 

This isn’t a fun little power-tag game where Jungkook can have a point now and then. 

No. 

Jimin wants complete, utter control, and it’s only a matter of time before he catches onto Jungkook’s act if he doesn’t start submitting even further. He isn’t going to loosen up any more than this unless Jungkook is on all fours with a muzzle on his mouth, and he’s made it clear that he is going to keep Jungkook forever because he’s making everything so fucking easy . 

But Jungkook would rather die than submit to his sick fantasies and continue to make him think that he’s anything more than a pathetic farmer with a nasty fucking fetish.

Back home, he must be a missing person by now. There’s no way his father isn’t aware of his disappearance. 

“ ♪ Keep smiling through ~ just like you always do ~ “  

He knows how it works. 

Eventually, nobody would search for him. 

Nobody would try. 

Nobody would care .

“♪  ~ 'till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away ~ ♪ ”

That is what will seal Jimin’s ownership over him. 

And if this escape fails, then he’ll at least die trying, and his father will use his money to find Jungkook’s body. Someone had to have seen something, a trace left somewhere .

He looks outside the window as Jimin elegantly walks over the unmarked graves without a care, entering the chicken coup with a basket, shutting the door behind him. 

“ ♪ So will you please say hello to the folks that I know? ♪ ”  

He makes his move and sits up, pulling his right hand forward and flexing his muscles as hard as he can. The zip tie digs into his skin, and he grunts through his teeth, pulling with all his might until it finally snaps. He does the same for his left hand and this time, the cuff splits down the middle, dangling from the zip tie around his wrist as he scoots down to his reach for his ankles. 

“ ♪ Tell them I won't be long ~ ♪  “

His breathing is erratic and heavy and his heart pounds in his head, but he keeps going, knowing Jimin will notice and be back the second he does. 

“ ♪ They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go ~ I was singing this song ~ ♪ ”

By the time he’s free, his joints are cut up and burning, small patches of blood soaking into the sheets below, and he leaps up, pressing his hands against the window, fogging it with his breath.

The door to the chicken coup is now wide open, swinging with the wind, and a desperate gasp escapes his lips as he makes a dash for the back door, the cuff jingling from his wrist. 

In the living room, the chorus of soldiers joins Vera Lynn.

“ ♪ We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when ~ ♪ ” 

He takes a right at the hall and just as he gets past the door frame, there’s a crack in the air, followed by a sharp, stinging pain in his knee. He cries out, falling to the ground with a hiss, screaming when his knee harshly hits the ground.

“ ♪ But I know we'll meet again some sunny day ~ ♪ ” 

Jimin turns around the corner with a baseball bat clutched in his hands, a rumble in his chest. 

The expression on his face is spine-chilling. 

His brown eyes are wide, pitch black, eyebrows harshly furrowed, lips downturned in an ugly scowl.

It’s more than anger — and it scares Jungkook to the point he can’t bear to look at it.  

He scrambles back as Jimin slowly approaches, pointing the bat his way. 

“ ♪ Keep smiling through just like you always do 'til the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away… ♪ ”

“You think you’re so smart, Bunny? Huh?!” he shouts, a crazed laugh booming through the air after. Jungkook grunts, trying to keep the mangled noises of pain in his throat as he slowly drags himself towards Jimin’s bedroom. Jimin follows slowly behind him, dragging the bat along the wall. “You fucking ruined it ! Just like you did the night we met! Were so… So fucking perfect. And now — I have to fucking kill you !” His voice breaks, releasing a pathetic whimper.

Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat as he swallows a lump.

Seeing someone in the mindset where they are fully devoted to erasing a human from the earth is terrifying, but he would be condemned if he didn’t make one last sad gamble in his life.

He springs into action and hauls himself up, the sudden rush of adrenaline pushing away the pain as he limps towards the cabinet where Jimin keeps the bolt pistol. Jimin stays hidden behind the hall, ranting in mumbles, and Jungkook can’t even hear what he’s saying over the sound of the bat tapping along the wall. His fingers grip the edge of the cupboard, and he rests his other hand against the wall for leverage as he pulls with all his might. 

“ ♪ So will you please say hello to the folks that I know… ♪ “

He breaks is open, and reaches inside for the bolt pistol when he spots a glock to the side. He's never used one before, but he grabs it and prays it’s loaded before clicking off the safety and aiming it at the door without hesitation. Jimin comes into view, bat ready in both of his hands as Jungkook trembles, index finger on the trigger. His eyes widen, and he opens his mouth, lowering the bat, but Jungkook is already pulling the trigger. 

“ ♪ Tell them it won't be long ~ ♪ “

His eyes squeeze shut and he flinches at the loud ‘bang‘ before he drops the gun out of shock, the sudden force of the bullet stronger than he was expecting. Jimin screams through his teeth in agony, the bat falling to the ground as he crumples against the wall, his hands gripping the sides of his thigh where the bullet went through, blood seeping into the denim of his overalls. There’s a hole in the wall behind him, and Jungkook dashes forward, limping as he shoves Jimin aside and limps down the hall towards the front door this time.

Jimin falls against the wall with a loud wail, and Jungkook feels no pity as he falls against the door with a grunt, fingers working through each and every lock. 

“BUNNY!” Jimin roars, and Jungkook feels another flicker of terror. 

He curses under his breath when he opens the door, not opening more than a few inches, blocked by the big bolt at the top that requires a key. He quickly runs over to the shelf by the TV and grabs one of Jimin’s heavy wooden figurines, an African Hornbill. He makes his way back to the door without looking over his shoulder as he raises it over his head to smash it down against the bolt. The bolt breaks on the fourth hit, along with the figurine, and Jungkook tosses the remains over his shoulder as he throws the door open.

“ ♪ They'll be happy to know that as you saw me go I was singin' this song ♪ ”

The bells above the door jingle, and he limps out, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as the sun beats down on him. The road is just ahead of him, and he prepares to make a dash for it when all of a sudden, the collar hums, a sensation all to familiar.

No. No, no, no, no —  

Electricity pulses around his neck in white-hot bursts of pain, and he buckles to the ground with a scream, convulsing as Jimin emerges onto the porch with a growl, heaving as he leans against the wall for support, the remote in his fingers. 

He limps towards Jungkook, who starts screaming uncontrollably, hands grasping at the buzzing collar as he rolls around on the grass with a whimper, saliva spurting out his mouth. “N-no — NO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO — ” His cries are cut off by another brutal shock.

Another anguished scream of pain rattles through the air, shaking the trees for the birds to disperse as Jimin grabs onto Jungkook’s broken leg, dragging him against the friction of the grass, right back to the quaint little farmhouse. 

Jimin glances outside, left and right as Jungkook’s screams are drowned out by the door shutting and Vera Lynn’s sweet voice, along with the deep chorus of soldiers. 

“ ♪ We'll meet again,

Don't know where,

Don't know when,

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day ~ ♪ ”

────

Breaking News: Son of Celltrion, Inc. CEO Mysteriously Disappears

Latest news in Seoul, Jeon Jungkook (25) — son of Celltrion CEO, Jeon Jihoon (56) — has disappeared under mysterious circumstances and remains to be part of the thousands of missing reports filed annually. He was last seen leaving his home in Gangnam on October 6th at 9:21 PM. However, tampered CCTV footage offers no indication of his whereabouts, with a large gap between the hours of 10:53 PM and 4:43 AM. 

His car was found in the hands of an auto shop worker, who claims the car was left behind in an unmonitored parking garage. CCTV footage of the adjacent streets shows the car being driven by an unknown person before the car disappeared around the corner. The police have currently labeled the auto shop worker a person of interest, though nothing is expected to come out of it. 

The shocking disappearance follows just days after the gruesome discovery of Lee Jooshik (42), who was found mutilated in the side alleys near a family-owned restaurant in the heart of Seoul. 

Authorities are working desperately to figure out a possible link between the disappearance and the notorious serial killer, widely known as The Sawman, who has terrorized the people of Seoul for months by scattering dismembered parts of his victims around the city. Unfortunately, The Sawman remains elusive, with no concrete evidence or witnesses to offer leads in the ongoing investigation. 

However, the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency has vowed to intensify their efforts to find Jeon Jungkook and bring him home safely. The community holds its breath, authorities remaining vigilant as they continue the search for the esteemed CEO’s precious heir. 

────

The day continues peacefully into a quiet night, crickets chirping and fireflies buzzing. 

Then, the peace is shattered by the ‘clank’ of a bear trap and the child-like scream of a black bunny. 

────

༺ FOR EVERMORE ༻

so psychological horror is actually insanely difficult to pull off, but i hope i did a good job <3 

if jungkook had kept his patience and not freaked out about submission, maybe he would have escaped in the future *sad face*

i just love how jimin never actually learns jungkook’s name and won’t until he reads the next newspaper and sees his face (cannon thoughts yuh yuh)

thank you for reading, come visit me on twitter @roses_for_mnnie! 

as always, please leave a comment they are honestly what keeps me going <3