Stylist Noona

Stylist Noona Pt 10 (Ours)(rough smut/angst)

"She said no, that's enough" Jungkook pulls you back to the table. "Are you okay?" He asks looking deep into your eyes. 

"Yea I'm fine, what was that guy's problem." You mutter annoyed.

"Well maybe if you hadn't let him buy you a drink, and didn't dance with him, he wouldn't have gotten the wrong idea." Jimin says his eyes like ice, its a look youd grown to expect from Yoongi, but never from Jimin. Not after how sweet he was earlier today.

"I-i couldn't find y-" You start.

"We are going home." Jimin says grabbing your wrist roughly pulling you outside, and you wait for a cab. The night air gives you goosebumps and you bring your arms up to give a pointless cover.

"Dammmn you're really a slut aren't you, you finally decide who you want to go home with?" The drunk man sneers stumbling away.

"Well?" Jimin asks, "Am I who you want to go home with, or are you still deciding?" His words rough and shocking.

The cab pulls up and he motions for you to get in, you weren't scared of Jimin, but to say you weren't intimidated would be a lie.

He tells the cab driver the address and you don't speak the entire ride.

Once home, Jimin hauls you upstairs his grip on your wrist ever tightening. Slamming his bedroom door open he throws you onto his bed, closing the door and locking it with the same force.

"Jimin what the hell?!?!?" you shout astonished at his rough actions.

"It's okay to not see us as masters (Y/N), but dammit, you do belong to us," His anger bubbling over as he finally reaches a shouting point."You cant just dance with strangers, and dancing with Jungkook on my day- I don't think you understand how this works." His words slurring obviously quite intoxicated.

You're at a loss, with nothing to say, all you can do is stare up at the imposing form. everything hes saying now is so different from how they reassured you last night at dinner.  

His eyes narrow licking his lips. "After tonight you will know who you belong to." His words send chills through your spine.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize-" He pushes you back on the bed stuffing a spare shirt in your mouth.

"Save it." He flips you over spanking you powerfully, over and over again, the pain turning to pleasure then back to pain as the sting settles in with burning tears starting to prickle your eyes.

You hear his belt, zipper then the thud of fabric falling to the floor. His hands on your shoulders, help you stand as he guides you to a wall. Anticipation builds in your heat.

"Arms up." He commands, and you put your forearms against the wall above your head whimpers are all that can make it through the balled up t-shirt invading your mouth. Your feet are kicked apart, his hands steady on your hips, not giving you any warning, except the feeling of your panties being moved to the side, before pounding into you forcefully.

You cry out muffled by the fabric, but Jimin keeps rearing back and slamming his hips into yours. Tears start to form, whether the were from pain or pleasure you weren't sure, but they were coming, fast.

"You belong to us. Got. it." Emphasizing each word with a thrust deep into your cunt, raw from the rough treatment. You whimper and nod and Jimin groans cumming in you, instantly letting go of you you fall to your knees spitting out the shirt.

Harsh sobs ravage your small frame.

"Oh no..." 

When you finally look around Jimin has disappeared. Why does he always do that? But truthfully you rather prefer it right now.