Jimin's Pet • PJM

Nine

~Trigger Warning, domestic violence~

Irene didn't so much as frown at Jimin as scowl, all her beautiful features pinched inward and it made his skin crawl. He'd just told her about Jji, gave the greatest performance of his life, and he could tell she'd believed him. The problem was that meant she was furious, he could see the tantrum about to take shape and he felt miserable.

"Nadu." She hissed the words standing to twist the thick material of his jacket into her fingers and throw him toward the floor roughly.

She didn't really have the strength to accomplish it with Jimin both bigger and stronger than her, but he allowed it to happen his hands and knees colliding with the carpet. He'd fought back a couple times in the distant past, but it had ended badly, she lost her steam more quickly if he submitted and allowed it to happen. It wasn't like if he subdued her she wouldn't retaliate in ways that could prove direly worse, what was some screaming and pain over her ruining his life and the lives of people he'd cared about?

"You miserable fuck." Irene screeched the words and they trembled through him.

Jimin let his forehead press against the floor, counted his breaths and tried to picture a calm lake. There was a tree dangling over the water, water lilies bobbing on the surface, tall rushes at the banks, green grass, a yellow and blue butterfly.

"It's bad enough that you love that nothing Taehyung, but now you love my idiot sister? You're supposed to love only me! Did you forget that?" Jimin was imagining the water would feel cool against his fingers, rippling the surface of the lake when she kicked him in the thigh. He flinched but refused to cry out.

"Why are you such a disappointment to everyone?" Irene kicked him again and again, her brutal ability to target the same spot finally dragging a moan of agony from his lips.

"Look at me." Jimin took a breath at her command and lifted his head, he braced himself unsure what she would say next.

The whole fantasy of the lake was gone, his thigh throbbed so awfully he couldn't keep hold of his visualization. He just had to get through this, he'd known her anger would be riotous but in the end she'd twist this to suit her own needs.

"Looking at your face is disgusting." Irene punched him, the impact sparked behind his eyes, his nose exploding with the pain.

He'd not expected that, his eyes clamped shut and he reared back falling to his ass. It wasn't that she'd never punched him, she was just usually more subtle, aiming for places no one would question. His leg had a bruise? Dance practice. His arm? Weight training. Thankfully her skill at punching was far below her abilities when it came to kicking and toys.

"Fucking kneel." Jimin scrambled into the position ignoring the heat and agony, and what he thought might be blood dripping down toward his lip.

"Does Tae know?" She stood a few feet in front of him, hands on her hips. He didn't dare glance up at her face.

"No, Mistress." Even calling her the honorific made him feel hopeless, he hated her, every fiber in his whole body wished her dead.

"You can keep Jjille on one condition." There it was, that scheming diabolic tone had appeared in her words. Gone was the sheer anger, he guessed in her head she'd pieced together how to hurt him and get something out of the exchange all at once.

"Anything, Mistress." Jimin finally found the words when she went silent. Clearly she wanted this to be a theatrical production.

"You will tell him in front of me, and you will make it clear to him, that if you have to choose, you choose Jjille. If he doesn't get angry and storm off I'll know this is just a game you're playing." She looked satisfied like she'd figured it out, and Jimin's stomach rolled.