Don't Wanna Be Your Boy | Yoonmin

12

TRIGGER WARNINGS: sexual assault

Jimin stumbled forward, arms wrapped around his drunken boyfriend, tugging him outside onto the front lawn, and pulling his cup from his fumbling hands, tossing it the ground.

It sloshed over the grass, joining the other piles of trash carelessly littered over the dirt. Jimin sighed as he swayed dangerously, grabbing his shoulders to keep him steady.

"You cannot drive like this." He mumbled quietly, his soft voice laced with exasperation, and his brows pinched, an angry glint sparkling in his eyes.

He growled into Jimin's ear, and leaned heavily against his slender body as he slurred against his neck. Hot, beer scented breath tickled his skin.

"I caaaaannnnn driiive...Youuu can't driiive myyy car."

Jimin's small fingers curled, and he gauged his lips together slowly as he grasped fistfuls of his shirt.

"Why not?" He questioned timidly, afraid to be yelled at, but apparently his volume and hesitance didn't matter.

"Youuu can't driiive my car!"

Jimin flinched slightly before nodding in agreement and, resting his head against the wall of the house as exhaustion etched itself into his features.

"Right okay, okay, I won't drive your car."

A soft exhale left his mouth, lashes fluttering over his cheeks, flushed from the heat.

He was tired, and drained, and he just wanted to go to sleep.

He didn't want to be here.

He wasn't sure he wanted to be anywhere anymore.

His shoulders sunk at the dark thought, and he ran his hand through his fading pink hair. Fading like the rest of him rapidly was. He blinked back the tears behind his pupils, threatening to spill over, trying to lock away the warped blades cutting at his insides, and ignore the way the air stung in his chest.

Now wasn't the time.

Right now, he had to help his boyfriend, and get them home, and find the pain killers for his hangover, and-

"You're sooo fucking hot Jimin."

Jimin head shot up, eyes rounding and flying open. He sucked in a harsh breath when he realized how close he was to him now, how he was striding forward, taking long steps towards him, his eyes darkening with lust in a way Jimin once found sexy but now it was just terrifying.

And he was being caged in, pinned against the wall, not gentle, never gentle, not anymore.

His fingers dug into Jimin's soft, seamless skin so hard he winced, a low hiss slipping between his teeth.

He would probably leave bruises, visible ones for once.

Though it wasn't the first time this happened.

"W-what are you doing?" He stuttered, cold dread and fear spiking sharp through his heart, chest heaving against his as he pressed in close, breath fanning out across his face.

His lips skimmed over his jaw, teeth grazing his ear, and his teeth punctured his plump lip as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"You've been teasssing all nighhht...teasing me...I have tooo punish you...for teasing meee baby..."

Jimin struggled against his grip, inhales going ragged in his throat.

It was painful, so painful, and as he tried to squirm away from him, his shirt rode up a bit, and his gaze immediately burned through the exposed skin.

"Mmm...such a slut..." He muttered, hand traveling up his thigh.

Jimin cried out, shoving back against the solid surface behind him, and god, he couldn't keep them in anymore.

He was crying.

"Please...please stop..." He begged brokenly, his words coming out in cracked, pleading whispers. "No...I don't-ngh!"

His sentence was abruptly cut off with an unwilling moan as his hand touched him there. A sob tore out shortly after as his fingers slipped into his jeans, stroking him through the fabric of his underwear.

"My little whore, you like that don't you? Beg for me."

Jimin beat his fists weakly against his chest, trying to push him away, but he was shaking too much, crying too hard.

He could barely breathe.

"Please stop...I don't want this...I don't want this..."

But he didn't stop.

He didn't stop.

Jimin went limp, finally giving in, realizing that there was nothing he could do.

There was nothing he could do.

No one was coming to save him.

And if he let him...

If he just let him...

He wouldn't be angry...

He wouldn't shout...

He wouldn't call him a slut...

He wouldn't hurt him...

Maybe he wouldn't hurt him as bad...

If he just let it happen...

It would be over soon...

It would be over soon...

He told himself that, over and over and over, sobbing, sobbing like he was in agony, as his drunk boyfriend guiltlessly molested him, whispering names he thought were sweet into his ears...

But they tasted like poison.

He opened his trembling lips to try one last time, to force those words past his tongue, to let him know that he didn't want this, he didn't want it...

But before he could make a sound, a car door was being slammed shut, and pale hands were reaching forward, and he was being yanked away, yanked off of him, shoved to the ground.

Gorgeous eyes.

Eyes that felt like home.

That promised safety.

It was okay.

"Jimin!"

And he collapsed in tears.