♡ Part - 24 ♡

The moment their lips parted, Jimin felt like the floor beneath him had disappeared. His chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breath, his pulse thrumming wildly in his ears. The kiss had been intense—too intense, too overwhelming. His lips still tingled from Yoongi’s touch, but unlike the man before him, who wore an air of satisfaction, Jimin was left trembling, lost in the chaos of emotions tearing through him.

Yoongi pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing against Jimin’s swollen lips as if relishing the way they looked after being claimed by him. His dark eyes burned with something unreadable—something possessive, something dangerous.

"You look so hot and beautiful, doll," Yoongi murmured, his voice dipping into something sultry, something teasing, but beneath it lay something darker—something that made Jimin’s stomach twist into knots.

Jimin’s breath hitched, his entire body stiffening at the pet name. His cheeks flushed despite himself, though whether it was out of embarrassment, anger, or fear, he couldn't tell. The way Yoongi said it sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, a stark reminder of how little control he had over this situation.

His racing heart pounded against his ribs as he tried to steady himself, tried to will his mind into some semblance of clarity. But how could he? How could he possibly process this when the man he had been desperately trying to escape from was now standing before him, claiming him, possessing him as if he were nothing more than an object, a prize Yoongi had finally secured?

Yoongi's smirk deepened as he took a step closer, invading Jimin’s space with an ease that left no room for retreat. His voice dropped into a whisper, low and intimate, sending a wave of unease coursing through Jimin’s veins.

"Have you yearned for my absence?" Yoongi asked, though the way he said it made it clear he already knew the answer he wanted to hear.

Jimin clenched his fists at his sides, trying to force down the panic rising in his chest. The air between them felt thick, suffocating. His lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. What could he even say? That he had spent every second of the past month trying to forget Yoongi? That he had wished, prayed, that he would never see him again? That the very sight of him now filled him with a terror so profound it made his skin prickle?

But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t. His silence was enough for Yoongi.

A dark chuckle rumbled from Yoongi’s throat as he lifted a hand, his fingers grazing along Jimin’s jawline before tilting his chin up. Jimin flinched but didn’t pull away—he couldn’t.

"Let me make one thing clear, my dear," Yoongi murmured, his grip tightening ever so slightly, his thumb pressing against the soft flesh beneath Jimin’s jaw. "The notion of evading me this time holds no weight."

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as the words settled into him like ice.

"You’ve stepped into a binding contract, my husband." Yoongi practically purred the last word, his lips curling into something sinister, something victorious. "Your fate is inextricably intertwined with mine now, held firmly within my grasp."

Jimin’s stomach twisted. He felt trapped—caged in a game he hadn’t agreed to play, bound to a man who had already taken too much from him. He wanted to scream, to shove him away, to demand why fate had played such a cruel joke on him. But all he could do was tremble as Yoongi’s fingers brushed against his collar, playing with the fabric there as if it amused him.

"Anticipation surges within me," Yoongi continued, voice dangerously smooth, "to explore every inch of you, to indulge in the power I possess over you." His gaze darkened as he tilted his head, eyes trailing down Jimin’s form before flickering back to his face. "So, I advise you to reconsider any notions of resistance… unless, of course, you wish to explore the consequences of defiance."

A cold shiver racked through Jimin’s body, the meaning behind those words sinking in like heavy stones. His breathing turned uneven, his fingers trembling as he tried to suppress the fear clawing at his chest. He wanted to resist, wanted to fight back, but the weight of Yoongi’s presence was suffocating, leaving him breathless and cornered.

Yoongi leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from Jimin’s ear, his voice dropping into a whisper so dark it sent goosebumps across Jimin’s skin.

"You’re trembling, doll," Yoongi mused, his tone laced with amusement. His hand trailed down, fingertips ghosting over Jimin’s throat before stopping just above his racing pulse. "Is it fear… or something else?"

Jimin’s breath hitched, his entire being screaming for an escape. But there was none.

Yoongi’s smirk deepened as he finally pulled back, his gaze drinking in the turmoil written all over Jimin’s face. The fear. The helplessness. The realization that there was no way out.

"Good," Yoongi murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns against Jimin’s skin. "You’ll come to understand soon enough, love." His voice was softer now, but no less threatening, no less suffocating. "No matter how much you resist, no matter how much you fight it… you belong to me now."

Jimin’s stomach twisted into knots, a fresh wave of dread crashing over him. His heart pounded violently in his chest as Yoongi’s words settled deep into his bones.

There was no escaping him. Not now. Not ever.

As the final wedding guests bid their farewells, the newlyweds stood in the grand hall of the Min mansion, surrounded by their families. The air was thick with emotions—joy, excitement, and in Jimin’s case, a deep sense of unease.

Jin stepped forward first, his usual confident demeanor cracking under the weight of the moment. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he reached for Jungkook and Yoongi’s hands, pressing them firmly.

"Jungkook, Yoongi, take care of my sons. I'm entrusting you with my two precious diamonds," Jin’s voice wavered as he spoke, his gaze shifting between Taehyung and Jimin.

Jungkook gave a reassuring nod, squeezing Jin’s hand in return. "Yes, we'll take good care of them," he promised.

Yoongi, standing beside him, offered a curt nod, his expression unreadable. "They’re ours to protect now," he added, his eyes flickering toward Jimin, who refused to meet his gaze.

Namjoon pulled Jimin into a warm embrace, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Jimin, baby, take care of yourself and your husband. If you ever miss us, don’t hesitate to call or visit, alright?" His voice was gentle, filled with fatherly affection. He turned to Taehyung, offering him the same warmth. "Tae, you too, my baby. No matter what, you always have us."

Jimin bit his lip, trying to suppress the lump forming in his throat. The reality of it all was sinking in—he was leaving behind the only people who had ever truly made him feel safe.

Jin wiped away a stray tear before cupping Jimin’s cheeks. "Why are you crying so much, my darling? We’ll visit often, and you’re always welcome home. Don’t worry, baby." He pressed a tender kiss to Jimin’s forehead, his own voice betraying the sorrow he was trying to mask.

Taehyung, sensing Jimin’s turmoil, stepped closer, threading their fingers together. "Of course, Chim. We’re together, so there’s nothing to worry about, okay?" His voice was filled with unwavering support, a silent vow to be by Jimin’s side no matter what.

Just then, Mr. Min stepped forward, holding out a small silver key. "Yoongi, Jungkook, this is the key to your new house. The four of you will be living there together." His eyes softened. "But remember, if you ever want to move back with us, that door is always open."

Jungkook accepted the key, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you, Dad," he murmured, his gratitude evident as he pulled Mr. Min into a tight hug.

Mrs. Min turned toward Yoongi, her eyes filled with quiet concern. She reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly before whispering, "Son, please take care of your husband. Be patient with him. He’s sensitive and innocent."

Yoongi’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. His gaze flickered toward Jimin, who stood beside Taehyung, visibly tense. "I know."

With the final goodbyes exchanged, Mr. Min clapped his hands together. "Now, it’s time for you all to go. Your bedrooms are ready, so make yourselves at home."

As their parents departed, the newlyweds stepped outside, their futures now intertwined.

Jungkook and Taehyung walked ahead, their excitement evident as they admired their new home.

Jimin hesitated at the threshold, his heart pounding. He could feel Yoongi’s presence beside him—silent, intense, and suffocating.

With a deep breath, he stepped forward, crossing into the unknown.

As they stepped into their new mansion, Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged a knowing look before walking inside together. The grand interior was breathtaking, a perfect blend of elegance and warmth, yet neither of them paid much attention to their surroundings.

"Baby, I can't wait any longer," Jungkook murmured, his voice thick with anticipation. His dark eyes roamed over Taehyung, drinking in the sight of his beautiful husband.

Taehyung bit his lip, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. "Me neither, baby," he whispered shyly.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk. "Is that so?" he teased, stepping closer. Taehyung nodded, a shy yet bright smile spreading across his face as their hands intertwined, the love between them evident.

Meanwhile, Jimin stood frozen at the entrance, his heart pounding erratically. The sheer thought of stepping inside—of sharing a house, a room, a life with Min Yoongi—sent a wave of dread through him. His fingers trembled at his sides as uncertainty gripped him, refusing to let go.

Yoongi, who had been observing him silently, finally spoke. "Don't feel like coming in, doll?" His voice was calm, almost amused, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

Jimin swallowed, unable to meet his gaze.

"It's fine," Yoongi continued, taking a slow step toward him. "But we both know you have nowhere else to go." His words, laced with quiet authority, sent a shiver down Jimin’s spine.

Jimin clenched his fists. "I didn’t agree to this," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yoongi tilted his head, his gaze unreadable. "And yet, here you are—wearing my ring, standing at my doorstep." He let out a low chuckle. "I’d say that’s agreement enough, wouldn’t you?"

Jimin flinched at the mocking tone, his breath hitching. "I had no choice," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

Yoongi sighed dramatically. "Tsk, tsk, doll. You say that like you’re some poor victim. But let’s be honest, even if you tried to run, where would you go?"

Jimin’s head snapped up, his eyes flashing with defiance. "Anywhere but here," he shot back.

Yoongi smirked at the fire in his voice. "I like that," he mused. "You can keep fighting all you want, but at the end of the day, you’ll still be in my house. In my room." He leaned in, his breath ghosting over Jimin’s ear. "In my bed."

Jimin took a step back instinctively, his pulse quickening. "Don't say things like that," he snapped, trying to mask his nerves with anger.

Yoongi only chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the push and pull between them. "Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it?"

Jimin clenched his jaw. He hated how easily Yoongi got under his skin, how effortlessly he turned the situation in his favor.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" Jimin accused, his voice laced with frustration.

Yoongi didn’t deny it. "I enjoy watching you squirm, yes," he admitted, his smirk widening. "But more than that, I enjoy knowing that, no matter how much you resist, you belong to me now."

Jimin’s breath hitched at those words. He wanted to deny them, to scream that he didn’t belong to anyone—but the reality of his situation was suffocating.

"Come inside, doll," Yoongi said, his voice softer now, but no less commanding. "Or would you rather stand out here all night?"

Jimin hesitated. Every part of him wanted to turn and run. But his family’s happiness, the weight of his choices, and the undeniable reality of his situation kept him rooted to the spot.

Jimin barely had a second to process Yoongi’s words before a strong grip wrapped around his wrist, unrelenting and firm. His breath hitched, eyes widening in shock as he was yanked forward.

"Wait—!" Jimin gasped, his feet stumbling over the threshold as Yoongi pulled him inside with ease.

The heavy doors shut behind them with an ominous thud, sealing his fate within the walls of the mansion.

"Let me go! You're hurting me!" Jimin’s voice trembled, his pulse racing as he struggled against the iron grip encasing his wrist. Panic surged through him, but Yoongi’s hold did not waver.

The older man turned, his expression unreadable, eyes dark with something Jimin couldn’t decipher. "It seems you've left me with no choice," he murmured, his voice chillingly calm.

Jimin barely had a moment to react before his back hit the closed door, the force knocking the air from his lungs. His hands flew up instinctively, pressing against Yoongi’s chest, trying to put distance between them. But Yoongi didn’t budge.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Jimin stammered, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He flinched under the weight of Yoongi’s piercing gaze—dark, unreadable, filled with an intensity that made his skin prickle.

Yoongi’s fingers tilted Jimin’s chin upward, forcing their eyes to meet. The younger tried to look away, to escape the suffocating dominance of that gaze, but the grip on his jaw tightened just enough to keep him in place.

"Don't…" Jimin’s voice quivered, his hands pressing harder against Yoongi’s chest in a weak attempt to push him away. But it was useless.

Yoongi leaned in, so close that Jimin could feel the warmth of his breath against his lips. "Don’t what?" Yoongi asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip didn’t loosen, his presence unshaken.

Jimin swallowed hard, his mind screaming at him to resist. But the overpowering force before him, the sheer control Yoongi wielded over him, made him feel small—trapped.

Yoongi tilted his head, smirking as if he could read every frantic thought racing through Jimin’s mind. "You can fight all you want, doll," he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "But we both know how this ends."

Jimin sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers trembling against Yoongi’s chest. His body was rigid, overwhelmed by fear, frustration, and something else—something he didn’t dare acknowledge.

And the worst part?

Yoongi knew it, too.

This scene is already heavy with emotions—fear, helplessness, and the overwhelming weight of Jimin’s situation. I’ll refine it into a more immersive fanfiction-style narrative with dialogue and deeper emotional depth.

---

Jimin barely had time to react before he was shoved onto the bed, his body bouncing slightly against the plush mattress. A soft cry escaped his lips, his hands gripping the sheets as his heartbeat pounded in his ears. Fear clawed at his chest, suffocating, inescapable.

Above him, Yoongi stood unmoved, his dark eyes surveying Jimin’s trembling frame with unsettling calm.

"I need to take a bath first," Yoongi murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, as if he were merely discussing something mundane. He loosened the buttons on his sleeves, rolling them up with practiced ease. "I'm tired."

Jimin swallowed hard, his body still frozen in fear. He wanted to speak, to say anything, but the words refused to form. His throat burned, his breath uneven.

Yoongi turned toward the bathroom, but not before casting one last glance at Jimin—one that sent a shiver straight down his spine. His lips curled into something that barely resembled a smirk, yet held nothing but chilling intent.

"But don’t worry, baby boy," Yoongi said, voice deceptively soft. "I’ll attend to you soon enough."

Jimin’s stomach twisted violently, his nails digging into the sheets as Yoongi disappeared behind the bathroom door. The sound of running water filled the air, but it did nothing to drown out the deafening fear inside him.

His hands trembled as he pressed them against his mouth, muffling the sobs that threatened to escape. His chest heaved, his body curled inward as silent tears streamed down his face. He hated this—hated the situation he was trapped in, hated the powerlessness that suffocated him.

"I don’t want to be here." The thought screamed in his mind, over and over. He wanted to run, to disappear so far that not even Yoongi could find him. But he couldn’t.

He had accepted his fate. He had accepted this marriage, knowing there was no escape.

But how was he supposed to live like this?

His breath hitched as the bathroom door creaked open. Jimin hastily wiped at his tears, his hands shaking as he tried to steady himself.

Yoongi stepped out, his hair damp, his white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top. His sharp gaze landed on Jimin immediately, and the younger tensed, bracing himself for whatever was to come.

For a moment, Yoongi said nothing. Then, as if sensing Jimin’s turmoil, he let out a quiet chuckle.

"Don’t look so scared, doll," he mused, stepping closer. "I told you already—any attempt to escape won’t end well for you."

Jimin clenched his fists, biting his trembling lip to keep from sobbing again. He didn’t dare speak, didn’t dare defy.

Yoongi tilted his head, watching him for a long moment before smirking. "Good boy."

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