♡ Part - 23 ♡

Time skip because I'm so excited... :)

~■~

~On the wedding day~

Jungkook stood at the altar, his fingers fidgeting slightly as he waited, his heart racing in anticipation. The wedding hall was filled with warmth and love, but his eyes were focused only on the entrance, where his soon-to-be husband would appear.

And then—there he was.

Kim Taehyung.

Dressed in a flowing white suit, looking nothing less than an angel descending from the heavens. The soft fabric complemented his golden skin, and the way his hair framed his delicate features made Jungkook’s heart skip several beats.

“Omg… he’s breathtaking.” Jungkook thought, his breath hitching as he drank in the sight of his fiancé. “He looks like a dream… my beautiful angel.”

Jungkook wasn’t the only one mesmerized.

As Taehyung walked towards him, his own eyes widened when they met Jungkook’s gaze. The man in front of him was perfection itself—his black suit tailored perfectly to his sculpted form, his raven locks falling effortlessly over his forehead, his sharp jawline defined like a Greek God.

Taehyung felt his cheeks heat up instantly.

He was blushing so hard he thought he might faint. Jungkook was stunning.

The two stood facing each other, completely lost in each other’s presence, silently admiring one another. They forgot about the guests, the decorations, the ceremony itself.

Just the two of them, locked in their own world.

A soft cough from the priest snapped them out of their trance.

"Do you, Min Jungkook, take Kim Taehyung as your lawful husband?" the priest asked, his voice gentle yet firm.

Jungkook, still staring at Taehyung like he was the only person in the universe, completely forgot to respond.

Yoongi, standing beside him, sighed and patted his back.

"Jungkook, snap out of it."

Jungkook blinked, realization hitting him, and quickly cleared his throat, a sheepish smile forming on his lips.

"Ah—yes! Yes, I do." His voice was soft, yet filled with certainty, as he gazed at Taehyung, his eyes full of love.

Taehyung, feeling the intensity of Jungkook’s stare, blushed even harder.

The priest then turned to him.

"Do you, Kim Taehyung, take Min Jungkook as your lawful husband?"

Taehyung, flustered yet glowing with happiness, nodded shyly.

"Y-Yes… I do." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the warmth in it was undeniable.

The priest smiled. "I now declare you both husbands. You may kiss the groom."

A wave of cheers and applause erupted in the hall.

Jungkook, without wasting a second, pulled Taehyung close by the waist, his hands resting gently yet possessively on his husband’s back. Taehyung gasped slightly, looking into Jungkook’s eyes before closing his own as Jungkook leaned in.

And then—their lips met.

A deep, passionate kiss, full of love, promises, and the happiness of finally being together.

Taehyung clutched onto Jungkook’s jacket as he melted into the kiss, his heart soaring. Jungkook held him tightly, wanting to cherish this moment forever.

As they slowly pulled away, their foreheads touched, both smiling at each other like they held the entire world in their arms.

"You're mine now," Jungkook whispered, his voice full of adoration.

Taehyung giggled, still blushing. "I've always been yours, Jungkook."

The hall erupted in cheers again, the couple now forever bound in love.

~After taekook marriage~

Yoongi stood on the stage, his eyes fixed on the floor, hands clenched into fists. His jaw was set tight, his entire body radiating suppressed fury. He had never wanted this marriage, yet here he was, a puppet in his father’s game.

The ceremonial music began to play, signaling the arrival of the groom. The air buzzed with excitement, but for Yoongi, it felt suffocating.

Jimin, on the other hand, felt his heart hammer violently against his chest. His hands trembled slightly as he clutched onto Taehyung’s arm for support. He had never felt this nervous before, a strange weight pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Chim, don't be nervous, okay?" Taehyung whispered reassuringly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Jimin nodded absentmindedly, but his mind was in turmoil. He couldn't shake off the unease coiling in his stomach. He had agreed to this marriage for the sake of his new family, to repay their kindness, but something didn’t feel right.

As he reached the stage, Taehyung guided him forward, placing him face-to-face with the man he was about to marry.

Jimin didn’t look up.

He kept his gaze locked on the ground, afraid of facing the unknown. His breathing grew shallow, fingers trembling at his sides. He had no idea who this man was, but the sense of dread creeping into his bones made him feel as if something was horribly wrong.

Yoongi, too, remained motionless, his expression unreadable, his thoughts a chaotic mess.

It was only when the priest’s voice rang through the air that the moment shattered.

“We shall now begin the ceremony.”

Both of them instinctively looked up.

And their worlds collapsed.

Jimin’s breath hitched as his eyes landed on the man standing in front of him. His body went completely still.

No. No. No.

This can’t be happening.

A wave of nausea hit him as he stared at Min Yoongi—Mafia Suga—the very man he had tried so hard to escape from.

His stomach twisted painfully, his body frozen in sheer terror.

His mind screamed at him to run. Run. Run. Run.

But he couldn’t.

His legs refused to move.

His heart pounded so loudly he thought it would burst out of his chest. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Jimin wanted to scream, to shout, to reject this marriage right there and then.

He wanted to tell Yoongi to stay the hell away from him.

But he couldn’t.

Because just behind him, his family was smiling.

Namjoon, Jin, Taehyung—they were so happy for him.

His throat burned as he swallowed back his panic. He couldn’t ruin this moment for them.

So he forced himself to stay still. To stay quiet.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was in utter disbelief.

His eyes widened, his entire body tensing as he stared at the boy standing before him.

Jimin.

His Jimin.

He felt like he had been struck by lightning.

Was this real?

Was he dreaming?

His mind whirled in confusion, unable to comprehend what was happening.

He had spent the last month searching desperately for Jimin, trying to find a trace of him anywhere. The agony of being away from him had eaten away at him every single day.

And now, as if the universe had played some twisted game, Jimin was right here.

Standing before him.

As his fiancé.

A shiver ran down Yoongi’s spine. A strange, overwhelming emotion took over him.

He had felt lost, broken, furious after Jimin escaped. But now… now, he felt relieved.

Jimin was back.

He wanted to pull him into his arms, tell him how much he missed him, how much it hurt to be without him.

But alongside the happiness, a dark wave of anger surfaced.

Jimin had run away from him.

He had left him.

And now… he had no choice but to stay.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Yoongi’s lips.

“You can’t escape me now, doll.”

Jimin felt his blood turn ice-cold as he caught that expression on Yoongi’s face.

That triumphant, victorious smirk.

Jimin’s breathing grew uneven, his chest tightening with dread.

The realization crashed into him.

This wasn’t just some arranged marriage.

This was a trap.

A beautifully orchestrated trap, and he had walked right into it.

His body trembled with fear.

He was marrying the man he hated.

The man who had kidnapped him.

The man who had claimed to love him yet never gave him the freedom to choose.

His stomach churned violently. His hands balled into fists.

How was this happening?

He wanted to turn around and run.

But he couldn't.

Because if he did, he would break his family’s hearts.

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay put.

Even as his entire soul screamed in resistance.

Meanwhile, Yoongi’s gaze never left him.

Mine.

That single thought echoed in his mind.

Jimin was his now.

There was no escaping it.

And as the priest continued the ceremony, Mrs. Min’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?”

Yoongi blinked, realizing how lost he had been in his thoughts. He exhaled deeply, eyes dark with unreadable emotions.

He glanced at Jimin, who looked on the verge of breaking down.

It didn’t matter.

They were getting married.

Whether Jimin liked it or not.

Yoongi’s mother’s voice barely registers in his ears.

"What happened, son?" she asks, her tone laced with concern.

Yoongi blinks, shaking off the haze of emotions swirling in his mind. He clears his throat, forcing his expression into something more composed. "N-nothing, Mum," he mutters quickly, trying to mask the storm raging inside him.

But his gaze betrays him, shifting back to Jimin—the boy he had been desperately searching for.

The boy who had run from him.

And now, the boy who had nowhere left to run.

Yoongi’s eyes darken, a victorious smirk tugging at his lips. Fate had played into his hands in the most twisted way possible, and he wasn’t about to let Jimin slip away again.

Then, the priest’s voice slices through the silence.

"Do you, Min Yoongi, take Park Jimin as your lawful husband?"

The room stills, a quiet yet heavy anticipation hanging in the air.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate. His smirk widens slightly, his voice dripping with an almost sinister satisfaction as he says,

"Yes, I do."

The words come out effortlessly, but the meaning behind them runs far deeper than anyone in the room realizes. His eyes flicker with an unspoken promise—one meant only for Jimin.

You can’t run from me anymore.

The priest nods before turning to Jimin.

"Do you, Park Jimin, take Min Yoongi as your lawful husband?"

A tense silence follows.

Jimin’s body locks up, his breath hitching. His fingers dig into his palms, nails pressing so hard against his skin that he’s sure he’ll leave crescent marks.

He can’t move.

He can’t breathe.

Every cell in his body screams at him to say no, to run, to fight.

But then, his eyes catch something in the crowd.

Namjoon. Jin. Taehyung.

His family.

They’re crying—tears of joy, of pride.

He can almost hear their unspoken words, their silent prayers for his happiness.

Jimin swallows hard.

His throat burns.

He can’t do this.

But… he has to.

His heart is in turmoil, but when he looks up again, he’s met with Yoongi’s gaze.

Unblinking. Intense. Possessive.

The way Yoongi is looking at him sends a violent shiver down his spine. There’s something terrifyingly final in his eyes, like he already knows Jimin’s answer before he even speaks it.

Jimin’s body trembles, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally forces the words out.

"Y...yes... I... I do."

The moment the words leave his lips, his entire world seems to shatter.

A suffocating weight settles onto his chest, pressing down on him with an unbearable force. His hands shake as he grips onto the edge of his sleeves, his knuckles turning white.

The priest smiles.

"I declare you both husbands from now on."

The finality of those words makes Jimin’s stomach churn.

It’s done.

There’s no turning back.

The room erupts into applause, but all Jimin can hear is the deafening sound of his own heartbeat.

What have I done?

His legs feel weak. His body feels like it’s sinking into the floor. Fear creeps into his veins, consuming him whole.

But Yoongi?

Yoongi feels nothing but pure satisfaction.

His smirk doesn’t fade as he steps closer, tilting his head slightly, studying Jimin like a prey caught in a hunter’s trap.

Then, the priest speaks again.

"You may kiss now."

The room goes quiet.

Jimin stiffens.

His wide eyes snap up to Yoongi, filled with uncertainty, fear, and silent resistance.

Yoongi notices it all.

And he relishes it.

The corner of his lips curls up, amusement flickering in his dark gaze as he leans in—slowly, deliberately, giving Jimin time to understand that there’s no escape.

Jimin sucked in a shaky breath, his entire body trembling. He wants to push Yoongi away, to scream, to refuse.

But he doesn’t.

Because he can’t.

Because the room is full of people, watching.

Because his parents are looking at him with so much happiness, so much trust, that the mere thought of breaking it makes his stomach churn.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate.

His sharp, dark eyes are locked onto Jimin’s, filled with something intense, unreadable, and terrifyingly final.

His lips twitch into a knowing smirk. "You can’t run now," his gaze seems to say.

Then, he moves.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Yoongi steps forward, closing the unbearable distance between them.

Jimin’s entire body stiffens, his breath caught in his throat. He watches Yoongi’s every movement like a trapped animal, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

The moment Yoongi’s hand reaches out—fingertips grazing against Jimin’s cheek—he flinches.

Yoongi pauses for a fraction of a second, his smirk widening at the reaction.

Then, without warning—he closes the distance.

Their lips collide.

Jimin gasps.

The kiss isn’t soft. It isn’t sweet.

It’s claiming. Overpowering. A silent warning.

Jimin tries to pull back, his hands pushing against Yoongi’s chest in a weak attempt to break free.

But Yoongi doesn’t let him.

His hand moves swiftly, wrapping around Jimin’s waist—pulling him flush against him.

Jimin whimpers.

The sound barely leaves his lips before Yoongi tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

His other hand moves up, fingers threading into Jimin’s hair—holding him in place.

Jimin feels like he’s suffocating.

He hates how effortlessly Yoongi’s lips dominate his, how easily his body is caged in Yoongi’s firm grasp.

The way Yoongi kisses him is intoxicatingly controlling.

Like he’s proving something.

Like he’s saying, "You are mine. You will always be mine."

Jimin’s fingers tremble against Yoongi’s chest. He wants to shove him away, to fight.

But his knees feel weak.

His heart is hammering, his senses consumed by the overwhelming warmth of Yoongi’s touch, the taste of him—possessive and unyielding.

A deep, satisfied hum vibrates through Yoongi’s chest.

He feels Jimin’s body shudder, feels the tension in his frame as he tries so hard to resist.

And Yoongi loves it.

He pulls back only slightly, their lips barely inches apart, his breath fanning over Jimin’s flushed skin.

"Scared, love?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

Jimin’s eyes flutter open, glazed with anger, fear, and something else he refuses to name.

His lips are slightly swollen, tingling with the remnants of the forceful, consuming kiss.

Yoongi watches him, his smirk deepening in satisfaction.

Then, he leans in again—this time pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against Jimin’s lower lip.

It’s softer, teasing, yet equally suffocating.

Jimin’s breath hitches, his body trembling.

"Welcome to my world, Jimin." Yoongi whispers against his lips, his tone dripping with possession.

Jimin wants to scream.

But he doesn’t.

Because when he looks around—the room erupts in cheers, applause, and celebration.

No one sees the war raging inside him.

No one notices how his hands tremble at his sides, how his eyes scream for help.

All they see is a couple sharing their first kiss as husbands.

And for the first time, Jimin truly understands.

He isn’t just trapped in this marriage.

He’s trapped in Yoongi’s world.

And there’s no way out.