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elusivecagedmockingbird · 9 months ago

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Come Doused In Mud

[contortionist!jimin x reader] [3.1k+ smut, yandere, ‼️ nonconsensual/dubious con sex, kidnapping, allusion to drugs, dark themes] This is the next and final part of Come As You Are. Thank you to everyone who gave this fic a chance and read it. Love u!

"I'm telling you, it was really weird, Tae," you complain to your friend as you pull him out of the tent—away from the show, away from the creepy man. "He was staring the whole time, and I couldn't break away, but I wanted to."

Taehyung chuckles, strangely finding amusement in what you are saying. "It was probably an act—fixate on one of the audience. Either way, these shows, they're all smoke and mirrors. We came here to have fun, yes?"

Your nerves were still buzzing with unease. Taehyung sees you close off and offers you his drink to appease you while his thumb circles your knuckles in an attempt to ground you. "We should at least go on a few rides," he suggests. "And while we go around, I'll make sure to protect you from creepy contortionists." Your friend makes a big show of puffing out his chest. His obvious gleaming mood is a huge contrast to yours. It almost doesn't bother you that despite your attempt to convey your discomfort, he had been too consumed with his high from the show.

But you realize you like him like this. You like that you're someone whose company he enjoys, and he's comfortable enough with you to let loose and be childish.

With a newfound determination to keep that boxy grin on Taehyung's face, you nod and agree to stay a little longer—go on a ride of his choice and maybe go back to the burger stand you skipped last week.

Also, if you allow yourself to be deluded, you can pretend you were out on a date with him. Tonight could be a fleeting glimpse of what it means to be like a couple. And here, you were in your own bubble with Taehyung. It truly felt like bliss, minus the creepy show you just witnessed.

“Come on," Taehyung tugs at your intertwined hands, pulling you out of your inner monologue. "Let’s see what’s there.” His free hand points to a mirror maze while he swings both your arms as he leads you to the labyrinth.

“Are we supposed to do something here?” You and Taehyung walk deeper into the center of the maze and as you go further, the light dims. "I mean, what's the point?"

Taehung shrugs in response. “The man said there was a prize in the middle of the maze.” His head turns left and right, hands still clasped together as he leads you through the maze.

You stop walking as you encounter another crossroad, the endless mirrors on each end and lack of light making you dizzy and nauseous. Not to mention that the longer you've been in the maze, with each passing second, your lulled anxiety resurges.

A shudder runs through you, and you can't help but feel the weight of unseen gazes following you and Taehyung. Reaching for Taehyung's hand, you pull him to take the lead. "Come on, Tae," your voice strained with anxiety. "In rigged games like this, left is always the shortest path to the exit, I'm sure of it."

Taehyung, on the other hand, wanted to take in everything. For some reason, he remained unbothered by your growing unease. Usually, he was good at sensing and reading you, but today, he remained partly oblivious. "What's the rush?" He tugs his limbs back, hands gripping yours tighter. "Come on, Y/N. I think we should go right. It could be fun."

"What fun can you have here?" You reason, free hand gesturing to the dingy mirrors and dusty panels.

Great. Not only do you feel nauseous, but you're pretty sure you now feel an oncoming migraine.

Your disagreement echoed off the mirrors, each reasoning bouncing back and forth. You were now growing frustrated. Meanwhile, Taehyung looked unperturbed, excited even—fueled by adrenaline and his 'sense of adventure'.

“Okay, you know what? Why don’t we split, and we'll just meet outside after,” he proposes.

It was a compromise. Sure. But if you were honest, you were also scared of walking alone. You look at Taehyung one last time, hoping he takes pity on you, but he remains unmoved. With a resigned sigh, you agree with a nod. Taehyung lets you walk your way first, and when you disappear from his sight after taking another turn, he takes his.

Frustration gnawed at your insides as you tried to jump and peek through the panels and mirrors, attempting to catch a glimpse of Taehyung or anything that would get you the fuck out of here. Yet, somehow, as the sun sets outside, the place only seemed to grow darker as nothingness bounced off of each surface.

As if to mock you, the dull fluorescent overhead began to flicker erratically, the flashing lights and shadows worsening your migraine and fueling your paranoia.

You really needed to get out of here. Now.

Screaming Taehyung's name, tears start to well up in your eyes. The weight of isolation began to sink into you, and your breaths came in shallow gasps as fear tightened its grip around you.

Oh god. Not now.

You feel around your pockets for your phone and curse when your hands come empty. Remembering you forgot to take your phone from Taehyung, you curse at everything around you—fuck this maze, fuck your jeans for having tiny pockets. Fuck everything. Your vision blurs as you let a sob out.

Looking up, you're met with your reflection. And you could not shake the unnerving sensation that someone—or something—else lurked just beyond your reflection. Mustering up your courage, you resume navigating around the mirror maze with hesitant steps. Suddenly, you hit your face in a mirror from abruptly turning around at the sight of a passing figure from your peripheral vision. You let out a pained groan, your hands shooting up to hold your assaulted nose.

Fuck.

“Tae, is that you?” You wince, eyes squinting, trying to make out your friend's face in the dim room.

"Tae, come on. You're not being funny. I'm really creeped out."

A minute of silence passed before you were answered. “Your friend is gone,” the voice singsongs.

A shaky breath leaves your lips. Okay, it's not Taehyung. But you refuse to think of the worst yet. Maybe this person can help you out. You clear your throat and address the man, “Hi, do you work here?” Feeling your way through mirrors, not wanting to slam your face again, you carefully feel your way around the maze. You’re not even sure if you’re walking closer to a mirrored image or the man himself.

“Could you please show me the way out? I think I broke my nose.” Though you don’t really think your nose is broken, you just hope he would feel sorry for you. And not to point fingers, but you getting hurt was partly his fault for appearing out of nowhere.

A light from outside pierces and bounces through the mirrors, briefly illuminating the place brighter, allowing you to get a quick glimpse of the man.

You freeze at the familiar face you're confronted with. The performer, contortionist, the man from the show earlier was already looking at you when your eyes found his. It wasn’t like a perchance glance like yours but more of a fixed glare. As if he knew exactly where you stood.

You stop shuffling within the space, hands getting clammy, and the room closes in on you. You don't know where to move, but you need to distance yourself from this man.

The shrieking laughter of a child running outside the tent breaks the eerie silence, and your head turns towards the noise. Resigning to the fact that no one could help you, especially this man, you try to follow the sound of mixed chatters and fanfare.

Heart pounding in your chest, you picked up your heavy feet forward. But with every turn you took, every corridor you rushed towards, you found yourself face to face with yet another dead end.

You refuse to give up.

You screamed Taehyung's name again, shrieked for help, and made any noise that would alarm anyone outside.

You will get out of here.

Hearing another laugh from outside, you turn to the source and run with desperation.

Your view turns dark as the bulb completely burns out. You could no longer see anything. As if the entrance to the maze disappeared into the dark. Immobilized by fear, all you could do was crouch. You'll fucking crawl your way out of here if you have to. You're pawing at the dry grass and dirt, telling yourself to put aside your disgust. You.have.to.get.out.of.here.

Then, just as you think you're making progress in the right direction, your fingers freeze upon feeling something unexpected—a sudden, jarring sensation freezes you in place. You recoiled instinctively, heart pounding in your chest as you realized what you had touched.

A foot.

The realization added a surge of fear coursing through your veins, your mind racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities. Again, you refuse to jump to the worst possibility.

No.

Not long after, you feel a warm breath ghost across your face, followed by a soft voice. "There you are."

It sounded so mellow, as if harmless. But your gut tells you it's anything but that. You feel a pair of rough hands hoist you up by your underarms. You squeal like caged piglets and fight against the person holding you. But before you can scream bloody murder, a striking force knocks you out.

Blinking against the harsh stream of light that flooded your vision, you turn sideways to make sense of your surroundings.

"Tae," you mumble—mouth dry and voice hoarse. You feel drilling in your head and your right eye twitches from the prickling pain.

Finally adjusting to the light, you find yourself lying in an unfamiliar room. The first thing you clearly see is the bright bedding draped on you, then a wall adorned with photographs. You force your eyes to make sense of the images, and you regret it. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the images of you.

Each snapshot was supposed to be a happy memory of you and Taehyung from your first visit to the carnival. But now, you feel repulsed at the immortalized moment, knowing that behind the lights and festivity, darkness lurked. Just as your gut tried to warn you.

You start to wail. And your cries for help grow louder as you realize your hands are chained to the bedpost.

Someone comes closer to you. He plops himself beside you to the bed, demanding your attention. His eyes are alight with a strange mixture of intensity and malice. "Welcome home, Y/N," he smiled. The man reached out a hand, brushing your hair with his fingers. You flinch from his touch and struggle against the restraints.

It takes a minute for your wailing to turn to sensible words. "Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

But as you wait for an answer, all you are greeted with is a chilling calmness that you don't share. "Please," you beg.

He remains silent. His fingers still playing with your hair. "Don't you remember me? It's me, Jimin," he introduces himself with a smile.

You thrash around, wanting to mess up his pristine bed, anything that would show him you were against being here.

"Y/N," he calls your name, his voice still calm. Your response is a hard glare. You would curse at him, but you don't trust your voice not to break or turn to sobs again.

"Don't cry, baby." His hands leave your hair to thumb at your creased forehead. "Ever since I saw you, I knew it was you; it had to be you," his words dripping with an unsettling mix of obsession and conviction, "my soulmate."

"You're fucking crazy," you spit your words out; raspy but determined. Disliking your accusation, you stare at you until you shift from discomfort. The weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

"You shouldn't resist, my dear," he deadpans. "We're bound by the red string of fate, tethered together, forever." His face closes in yours and noses at your cheek. His breath was hot against your ear as he resumed talking.

"You felt it too, didn't you?" he whispered, his voice a sinister hiss. "The tug of that thread when you first set foot into my carnival, my home. You cannot deny it any longer."

Your pulse raced with terror as you struggled to comprehend the depth of his delusion. You tried to speak, to protest, but your words were caught in your throat like a knot, choking off any plea, even curse and demeaning words you wanted to shout at him.

How the fuck are you supposed to reason with a crazy man?

Jimin's fingers trail along the curve of your shoulders. "You are finally home, my dear," he murmurs, his touch sending a wave of revulsion coursing through your veins. But you couldn't do anything but take it.

He presses a peck to your cheek. Sensing no movement from you, he slots his lips to yours.

At this, you react violently, your body thrashing to move as far away as you can from him. Your balled fists swing to his face but fall limp, and your feet locked in place tight; you couldn't even push yourself further away from the man.

"Get the fuck away from me," you screech. Guttural screams leave your mouth as you tug at the binds on your limbs.

"Tsk, you're making this difficult, Y/N." He secures your ties, the binds getting tighter, leaving your arms and legs completely immobile.

"I'll show you how good I can be for you, my dear."

"Please," you sob, "Please, enough," the last plea comes out as a moan.

Jimin continuously laps at your cunt, his head locked between your trembling thighs. You twist and turn your body to repel him, but Jimin's head only tilts to look at you. His eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat as you are drawn into the depths of his dilated pupils.

Tingles run on Jimin's back, and if possible, his dick stiffens even more. He's exhilarated as he saw a reflection of his own desire mirrored—a passion so intense it threatened to consume you both. Finally.

He knew you were loving this. He knew he was going to have you. And he thinks he already has.

Unable to tear his gaze away, Jimin feels you gradually surrender to the irresistible pull of his hunger. Your defenses dissolved easily like the cotton candy you loved to wrap your tongue around. Arousal spurts from his cock at the thought of having your sweet tongue wrapped around him. Like cotton candy.

He dives back between your thighs and grazes his teeth to your nub. With his fingers prodding inside you in a come-hither motion, you come undone again for the third time. You're full-on panting as you regulate your breathing. Jimin kneels, and your eyes follow him. He was a sinful delight—lips glistening with your arousal, cheeks flushed, and his cock stands tall and weepy.

He notices your lidded eyes as you stare at his cock and chuckles. "Don't worry. I'll let you feel me sooner than later," he cajoles.

You couldn't find your sanity. You should be resisting, screaming, doing anything to make this difficult for him, but your body just resigns—pliant, submissive to his. You hesitantly bend your knees as far as your bounds let you and ready yourself for him.

With one swooping motion, Jimin leans closer to your body and lines his hard cock to your pussy. You moan in unison as he sinks his tip inside you. His other hand caressed your cheek, and you surprised yourself further as you leaned in. At this, Jimin smiles and smashes his lips to yours. Your mouth locks in a heated, hungry kiss.

Letting his love pour from every pore and hole, Jimin pushes his shaft inside you. The feeling of his bare cock and thick girth pulls an animalistic reaction from you—your nails indent his flawless skin, and your teeth sink to his shoulder, devouring him in all ways. Jimin's hand cups your ass to pull you towards his thrusting hips, his hunger for you never-ending.

And finally, he thinks, you've surrendered to your need for him as well.

A sigh leaves his lips as you move your grip from his back to brush through his hair. He trails kisses along your neck going to your collarbones, each peck turning into love bites. You whimper at the sting, and your lover grows feral at the melodies of your pleasure.

If possible, he would weld you two together like this—forever tangled in euphoria and pleasure. Jimin's hand dips between your compressed bodies, fingers traveling from your tits, taking his time tracing patterns on every skin he touches until he reaches his destination—your clit. His eyes stay on your face as he watches your face contort in pleasure to every flick and motion of his fingers to your pussy.

You stare back, as if beckoning him to cum with you. And so he does.

Your body trembles like aftershocks, and Jimin feels his cock protest in sensitivity.

This is wrong, you think as you have your arms wrapped around your captor. But letting him have his way with you, somehow felt right. This felt like home.

Jimin watches you slumber. His index finger softly traces the slope of your nose. "My beautiful Y/N."

He secures your wrist to the bedpost once again after making love to you. He couldn't risk it yet. Sure, you were no longer screaming at his face, but it's too early, he decides. You've been with him for a week now, and in those seven days, you’ve done nothing but fuck.

A patterned knock pulls his gaze from you.

About damn time.

Jimin opens the door to a grinning man. "Took you long enough," he sneers.

His friend only huffs, "Well, excuse you. I had to deal with the missing reports. Her friends are fucking persistent, and I had to play my part."

"Well, is it dealt with?" Jimin pours water for him and his visitor.

"It's not hitting the local news yet, but I feel like it will die down in a few days." His guest waves off the offered water. "You and I know what could be in that water."

Jimin scoffs. "Why the fuck would I want you passed out in my home." The man across from him just shrugs in response, then says his goodbye.

"Hey, Taehyung," your so-called friend raises his brows, awaiting Jimin's next words, "Thanks for the help with Y/N. I owe you one."

Taehyung only wiggles his eyebrows. He chances a look over Jimin's shoulders to peek at you lying on the bed across the room, then pulls the door close as he leaves.