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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months

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♰ ɄⱠ₮Ɽ₳ Ø₦Ɇ ♰

♰ Pairing: vampire!hyunjin x vampire!chubby!reader

♰ Genre: horror/angst

♰ Summary: A new drug's turning vampire's feral and when Hyunjin uncovers a plot to pin it all on you, he's determined to make your enemies pay even if he puts himself in danger in the process.

♰ Word Count: 2.3kish

♰ Warnings: mentioned drug use (it's synthetic blood), blood, burning alive, mentions of violence, strong language, stabbing, vampires obviously, low key psychotic love, pet names (baby, honey).

♰ A/N: I created this to have two parts. This one is more action-oriented and the second will be more romantic. I'm just trying to do my part to give us chubby badass vampire babes whose men love them enough to commit murder, ya know?

The underground club scene can grow quite boring for a vampire. Your first few blood raves make you feel more alive than you ever did when you actually had a pulse. But the ones that follow? They become so mundane and predictable that not even the introduction of human drugs can save them from losing their luster.

Enter a new drug, Ultra, synthetic blood by vampires for vampires. Guaranteed to fuck you up. One dose opens your eyes to a world far beyond your own. It mutates your cells. Alters your brain chemistry. Turns you into a brand new beast. The power you gain is addictive and the things you’ll do to hold onto it, the sins you'll commit, you don’t even want to imagine.

But you must imagine them. You are the one who created Ultra, or so they say, and some incredibly powerful people are looking to give you a taste of your own poison. Tell me, are you prepared to die? Again?

Distorted metal music ricochets off of the stone walls of the club with the force of a dozen automatic rifles firing all at once. The occasional rapid flashing of strobe lights illuminates the darkness, giving the few hundred bloodsuckers on the dance floor the closest thing to a sunrise that they can tolerate. Everyone dances except for one weasel of a man. A dealer slinking through the crowd in his worn leather jacket handing off vials of Ultra to this person and the next.

“I won’t have to do this for long,” he tells his friend at the bar when he stops to grab a drink. This friend, a fellow scumbag, grins as he knocks back a shot, completely unphased by the recent carnage caused by the shit his companion has been peddling. “The council says once I do this they can get rid of her and make room for me.” “Make room for you? Tell me you don’t really think those rich fucks would ever let us into their secret society”

The dealer nods to the bartender to give him his usual, “See, that’s your problem. You think too small. That’s why you’ll never get anywhere.” His friend only rolls his eyes, turning to check his surroundings before he leans in to offer some advice. “I’d be quieter about this if I were you. If she finds out you’re trying to set her up she’ll sick her dog on you then you won’t get anywhere either.” “Fuck her” the dealer spits, finishing off his drink, “She can sick her dog on me. I’ll just have to put him down.”

Agitated, he slams his glass down on the bar, nearly shattering it. “I’m supposed to be afraid of her?” he mutters, shoving the other man aside to turn down a winding hallway that leads to the back door. He stops in front of the door to dig for a cigarette, wincing at the brightness of the few working lights that dangle from the ceiling of the desolate hallway. The air shifts, growing colder around him, but he’s much too busy fidgeting with his lighter to notice the change. Too lost in the ecstasy of that first drag to notice the shadow along the wall closing in on him. “I don’t even know why they have to do all of this. Should just kill her. She’s just some stupid b—”

An ice pick pierces his neck from behind, taking every twist and turn between his muscles before emerging on the other side. The cigarette falls from his lips, extinguished by the tiny pool of blood forming in vivid red on the concrete floor. “Just some what?” Hyunjin questions, rolling the ice pick between the man’s vertebrae. The sound of metal splitting bone is music to Hyunjin’s ears. “Speak! What were you going to call her?” The man opens his mouth but no answers tumble out. Only blood and desperate gasps for air. Tears begin to form in his eyes as the reality of his helplessness sets in.

Hyunjin leans over the man’s shoulder, his large hand reaching around to cover his mouth. “I should’ve known you’d have nothing interesting to say” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed, “You’re just some stupid bitch.” The ice pick slips out smooth as butter, finding a new home in the man’s left lung followed by his right. Hyunjin moves in a blur of darkness, leaving the man spinning in circles trying to predict where the next attack will come from.

Blood pours from a dozen different holes scattered across his body. He reaches out to grab the collar of Hyunjin’s expertly pressed suit only to pull back a fistful of nothing. The coldness, he feels it now as he drops to his knees, his vision darkening. One final stab, inches from his heart, is all he feels before the bulbs in the ceiling pop leaving him in the dark.

“Oh, Jinnie, look! Here you are!” you sing from the comfort of a rose infused bubble bath. You ease down further into the steamy water, the rose petals dancing at the surface cloaking your naked body. “Pisces,” you begin to read off from the astrology book you’ve been flipping through, “As Jupiter aligns with Neptune in your house of love, you mustn’t shy away from sharing your true feelings with your partner—” Hyunjin kneels beside you, tilting your book back to view the title. He cracks a smile, “A Girl’s Guide to Astrology 2023. After a hundred years, you still believe in that stuff?” “Mmm, maybe” you shrug, running your black manicured nails through his slicked back hair.

Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Hyunjin closes his eyes and lets you massage his scalp. He could stay like this for hours, having you read to him by candlelight as your fingers melt away all that plagues him. “What are your true feelings? You seem troubled.” “No trouble, my love.” Tossing the book to the floor, you raise his head to look at you. It never fails, even after a century together, that looking into his eyes makes you want to melt. Beyond the beauty of his features lies a softness reserved only for moments like this. For moments with you. A softness that most men of your kind lacked even before they turned.

“You’re lying to me, Jinnie. What’s wrong?” One brush of your thumb across his cheek is all it takes to break his defenses. “You know that Ultra stuff that has everyone turning feral?” You nod, not daring to ask if he’d taken it. He’d never touch something like that. Not your Jinnie. Not when he’s seen firsthand what it does. It’d be hypocritical to say that neither of you lusts for violence. But violence directed towards people who don’t deserve it? Tearing the limbs from innocent lovers in the park? Slaughtering whole families? There’s no pride in that. “I caught the guy who’s been dealing it. He’s upstairs. I think—” Hyunjin pauses, bracing for your reaction, “I think the council plans to say that you made it.”

Your iris pulses an electric red, your heart pumping a pure searing hatred through your veins. The council. Five decrepit bastards who rule their own sectors of the city under the guise of keeping the peace between vampires and humans when in reality it’s all about the money. That’s all it’s ever been about. They’re criminals, the same as any mafia you’ve ever known, and you worked your ass off for your seat among them. They could never quite accept that a woman infringed upon their little boys' club. They would’ve put a stake through your heart a long time ago if it weren’t against their own bullshit rules.

Rule #1: We never kill our own. The Consequence: Death.

Ultra doesn’t just make vampires kill humans. It makes them kill each other. And finally, when their bodies can’t mutate anymore, it kills the host too. If they can pin this on you then you’re dead. You, every vampire under your protection, and Hyunjin—

Not him. Never him.

You rip through the halls of your sprawling mansion, hearing Hyunjin’s voice as if it were far away at the end of a long tunnel. “Cover up at least, honey” he insists, throwing a flowy silk robe around your wet body. You slip your arms in, not missing a beat as you grab a blade from the wall on your way to the third floor. You can hear shallow breathing as if it were your own. The stench of whisky and blood floods your senses the closer you get, nearly making you nauseous. Kicking the door into your spare bedroom, you come upon the man plotting your death.

He’s chained to the bed, his clothes tattered where wounds from the ice pick have slowly begun to heal. You descend upon him, your blade pressed to his throat, fangs bared. “Tell me everything” you demand, realizing at once that you’ve seen him before. Nowhere in particular. Here and there. In places you never thought much of. Had his appearances there really been a coincidence? No, there was a reason. He’s been watching you all this time. How didn’t you see it? “No” he refuses, licking the dried blood from his bottom lip, “Kill me and you’ll burn for it. You both know that!”

You gasp, sitting up on top of him, “Oh no, baby, did you hear that?” Hyunjin leans against the wooden bedpost, his reappearance startling the man. “I heard. Kill him and we’ll burn” Hyunjin dramatically cowers in fear, “I’m so scared. We better be careful, huh?” “Mmhmm” you agree, inching the blade away from the man’s neck and burying it in the mattress beside his head. “Jinnie, how long do you think until sunrise?” Hyunjin makes his way to the window, peeking out at the breathtaking landscape that surrounds your home.

It’s early enough in the morning for the sky to still cling to hues of dark blue as the sun creeps up along the horizon. “Half an hour maybe.” “Would you be a dear and open the curtains? It’s so dark in here.” The man’s eyes dart back and forth, watching your smile grow more devious with each curtain Hyunjin ties open. “Wait, you can’t—” the man panics, struggling against his chains. “I know. I know. We can’t kill you!” you groan, climbing off of him, “But we’re gonna. I mean, thanks to you they’ll probably try to kill me anyway, and since you won’t answer any questions you’re useless.”

Hyunjin takes you by the hand, escorting you to the door. “You go to bed. I’ve got it from here” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead. You cross your arms defiantly, refusing to move an inch. “No, we’ll finish this together like we do everything else.” Hyunjin’s arms come around your waist, pressing your plush body to his. “I always take care of you, don't I?” he asks, his hands tracing your figure. “Always.” “Then go and wait for me, okay? This won’t take long.” You glance over at the man on the bed, your mind racing with all the things you could do to him. All horrors he’d very much deserve.

“Fine but hurry. You've been gone all night. I’ve missed you.” Your lips meet, sparking something that sets your body ablaze in a different way. One that has you tugging at the buttons on his shirt as your tongue teases the sharp points of his fangs. You don’t want to break away and neither does he. Once Hyunjin has his hands on you everything around him loses its importance. The only thing his body longs for—needs as if his survival depends upon it—is you. But he manages to turn you loose for your own safety, locking the door when you leave to be extra safe.

Without another word, he circles the room slowly closing each curtain he opened only moments ago. “What happened? Change of heart?” the man taunts, trying and failing to get a rise out of him. Hyunjin grabs the vintage French parlor chair positioned by the window and drags it to the darkest corner of the room. He sits in silence, his face void of emotion, his eyes unblinking. Hyunjin’s focus is no longer on his prisoner but on the evolution of the light that breaks through the curtains.

Minute after agonizing minute passes until the fear of the unknown forces the man to ramble off everything he can think of. Insults, confessions, pleas for mercy. None of it gets the slightest reaction until the faintest sunbeam casts its light on the carpet. Hyunjin rises, locking eyes with the man for the first time as he approaches the sunbeam. “My wife always said we all have special abilities. Things that make us unique,” he says, rolling up his left sleeve. “I didn’t believe her at first but then one day I got caught in the sun.”

Hyunjin shoves his forearm into the sunlight, his bare skin exposed to what should be eating through him like acid. “Nothing, see? It takes a while for me to burn but you—I have a feeling you’ll strike up like a match.” “No, please! You don’t understand!” Hyunjin smirks, twirling over to the window, “You don’t understand. You told my baby she’d burn. You first!” Hyunjin tears open the curtain nearest to the bed, letting the sun shine in at full power. “What a beautiful morning” he hums, sliding the others open to the tune of screams that would wake the dead.

The man on the bed is burning, his skin bubbling like he’s being deep fried. In a sense he is. The heat from the sun is cooking him. He feels every pop. Every sizzle. Tiny fires ignite, charring his skin. Hyunjin watches on, the steam rising from his own skin barely a tickle. He won’t leave this room before he’s seen him burnt to a crisp, reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse for him to deliver to the council as a warning of sorts.

Threaten what he loves and this is only a taste of the fate that awaits them.

#stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x female reader #hyunjin x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #plus size reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids au #stray kids angst #hyunjin angst

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biteofcherry · 1 year

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Omg! Please more of alpha Ari! I fell in love with that story and I beg for any crumble you can spare 🙏🏻👀

More then a drabble, less than a chapter of any kind.

~ * ~

Bad Moon Rising

alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

warnings for the part below: hints of primal kink; hints of chase kink; a/b/o dynamics; alpha!Ari; shifter!Ari; omega reader

You're not sure how it even happens that you end up dancing on a table.

Okay, to be fair you do know.

It's the fourth delicious drink and hilarious fun of absolutely stupid game of truth or dare at your friend's birthday outing.

Usually you're not that carefree, or reckless. You're more sensible (and too lazy for some crazy antics). But it's a special occasion, so you let your packmates goad you into joining them.

Along the evening your small group of four growths into seven, then nine. Even the neighboring pack's members find themselves among your group.

It's not forbidden to befriend the other pack. Especially since Dimitri and Levinson are trying out this civilized pact thing. Human-belonging bar that you went to is a neutral ground anyway; anyone can mingle.

It was harmless fun; lots of teasing and funny stories shared over the joined tables. You rolled your eyes at your friend's comments about getting yourself someone to take home for the night.

"Maybe it'll be a romcom type of thing." Holly winked.

"Her romcom is hotter." Joined Lin, smirking at you over the rim of her glass. "She got an alpha interested in her."

"Alpha?" Holly's brows arched in surprise; a tipsy hiccup preceding her next words: "But Dimitri's blindly in love with his wife."

"I don't mean our alpha." Lin had the smug, evil grin of a cat that ate the canary.

Your murderous glare didn't seem to bother her. It didn't scare off the others at your table, who Ohh-ed like a bunch of teenagers.

You weren't interested in entertaining their drunken nosiness. Besides, there was nothing to tell, really. Ari gave you a little adrenaline rush that night at the festivities, declaring a verbal claim, which you prayed would pass.

In the next week everything returned to normal, your days going on as usual. No pushy alpha on your tail to haunt you.

Before your companions opened their mouths to sputter teasing and ridiculous questions, you downed the rest of your drink in one go and demanded to be given a dare.

At the moment it was better than allowing them ask for a truth.

That's how you find yourself on the table. Everyone's drinks and snacks pushed to the side to make room for you.

Beat of the music quickens your blood, your body writhing and rocking to the rhythm. Your dress isn't too short, and it clings to your hips so tightly you're not afraid of flashing anyone.

Alcohol loosens your muscles; your inhibitions as well.

You sway your hips down then shot up straight, bent yourself forward for a second - causing your girlfriends to whoop in glee.

You're turning around, arms thrown up and head tilted back, when suddenly your world spins.

You squeak at the unexpected motion, for a long moment not understanding why your body is doing this weird upside down pose.

The sound of your friends hollering and whistling reaches you, but it dies down as you keep floating further away from the table.

It's when the chilly air outside of the bar brushes your bare arms that you realize you've been carried outside. Your gaze focuses on long legs clad in dark jeans, a really shapely ass right within reach.

Strong hands grip your hips and you're being slowly dropped down onto your feet. Your body slides along a broad, muscled form. The heat of him seeping through your clothes.

You brace your hands on his chest when you feel dizzy. As the world stops spinning, you start recognizing details of your surroundings.

Your face tilts up, gaze traveling from the wide span of a male's chest - blue shirt unbuttoned on top, revealing a thatch of chest hair - up his corded neck and over a nicely trimmed beard, with patches of ginger and gray within dark blond hair.

Plush, pink lips set into a thin line of displeasure. And a pair of cold, blue eyes glinting like a sharpened blade.

Ari fucking Levinson.

He smells really good, your drunk brain notices.

You manage not to follow that thought, instead focusing on the fact he picked you up, threw you over his shoulder and carried out of the bar as if he owns you.

He does not.

You're not that drunk to not remember this small truth; your lifeline.

You frown. And snap.

"What the hell, Levinson?"

You try stepping back, but your legs wobble on the high heels you chose for tonight. Ari's grip on you tightens, preventing your fall.

"Didn't think you'd cause so much trouble, little omega." He says, nostrils flaring. "Was it a deliberate act, or did you forget the rule about not having anyone's scent on you?"

"I was just dancing! Alone, may I add." You want to sneer that you didn't agree to his rule. You didn't agree to his game at all.

"Everyone at the bar was looking at you. Which I don't mind as long as nobody tries to touch." His eyes turn darker. "But there were men approaching, making plans regarding you, for which I'd have to kill all of them."

There's a furious fire in his eyes and his tone so calm in his ire that you have no doubt this alpha would spill blood, if anyone defies him.

"Hell, some of the members of my own pack were drooling over you." Ari shakes his head, still annoyed, but less when it comes to his own friends and family. "Galen's hand was inches from your calf when you bent over. I'd break his fingers if he touched you."

"You're being ridiculous." You huff, yet your body trembles in disgust at the thought of what some men might've been imagining doing to you.

"I wasn't alone." You point out.

It's not like you'd be going back home solo. Actually, the plans included crashing at Holly's place and eating ice cream until you passed out.

Maybe it's the alcohol, or perhaps you're this bold on your own, but you add:

"And you are not my alpha."

You expect anger. For a split of a second you ready yourself to run, in your high heels, in case Levinson attack you.

But he looks amused, darkness actually receding from his eyes.

"Are you this stubborn on a principle?" He asks, using one of his hands to cup your chin. "Or do you like the chase as much as I do?"

It dawns on you that Ari truly relishes in the chase, in the primal side of your wolf nature.

Saying no to him is like an invitation to play. Perhaps if you jumped right in at his advances at the autumn festival, he'd be bored and disappointed, leaving you be.

Ari's hold on your chin tightens. He moves closer, his breath tickling your cheek as his lips trail towards your ear.

"I may not be your alpha yet, but you will give in." He murmurs in your ear. "You'll be begging for my knot and praising every single drop of cum I pump into you, my little omega."

Alcohol likes filth, you tell yourself when your body ignites with heat upon his words.

You clench your thighs, but otherwise remain stoic, trying your best to not show Ari he may have some sway over your body.

Running in heels would really suck, and he already has the advantage of being a damn alpha, so you hope that Ari doesn't push for more tonight.

Sound of a phone ringing saves you. With a sigh, Ari leans back and takes his cell out of his pocket.

"What is it?" Ari grumbles, annoyed. His frown deepens as he listens to the person on the other end.

"I'll be there shortly." He hangs up, shaking his head. Looks up at you and rolls his eyes to the sky - "What is it with everyone tonight?"

"A bunch of teens from my pack got into a fight." He explains. "Get into the car, I'll drive you home."

This time you manage to push away from him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I'm staying." You announce, tilting your chin up defiantly. "It's my friend's birthday. The party's not over yet."

It's that strong will he sensed the first time he saw you. Ari admires it. He can't wait to break it.

"Do you promise to behave?" His tone is light, amused, but Ari looks at you expectantly like he really waits for your obedient compliance.

"I promise to do whatever the hell I want." You don't say it to spite him, you simply state the truth.

You are a free woman, able to make your choices. Some may be foolish, but you're allowed to do them too.

"Careful," Ari steps to your side, purposely towering over you, "or I'll make the same promise."

You gulp this time. This wasn't just a tease, but a dark threat Ari's capable of fulfilling.

He chuckles when you remain speechless. Then pats you on the ass before walking over to his car.

Your body stirs into movement when the sound of starting engine breaks through the pounding of your heart. You walk back to the bar, car lights following your each step until you safely disappear behind the door.

It's all light and fun inside, your friends waving and calling you over. You force a smile on your lips, decide on having at least one more drink to soothe the spike of fear.

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x female reader #alpha ari levinson x omega female reader #alpha ari levinson #ari levinson x you #bad moon rising

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8myass · 3 months

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.. sweetheart .. pairing. jeong yoonoh/jaehyun x female reader genre. angst, fluff pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) synopsis. you realize the man you hate might actually be quite hot. wc. 0.9k cw. “enemy”!jaehyun, nerd!reader tw. enemies to lovers kinda?, cursing, mentions murder (it’s a silly joke), depictions of violence (all in good fun), reader realizing she might like jae a/n. third work in the jaehyun birthday event! i really like this one actually?! not proofread or edited, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!

You were sitting in silence at your desk, peacefully writing down the notes the professor was yelling out over the entirety of the room, loud enough so that anyone should be able to hear her. However, beside you sat your very oblivious seatmate, Jaehyun, who had no idea what she was even talking about, earbuds in his ears as he blasted some hardcore rock music as loud as he possibly could, loud enough that you heard every beat precisely, almost as clear as he heard it himself. His phone was pulled out behind his textbook that he had stood up on top of his desk, which made it very obvious that he was hiding something behind it, but the professor was too fed up with the day that she didn’t bother to scold him about it as she always did, just wanting to leave and go home, deeming it not worth the argument today when she has barely over ten minutes left to continue speaking her mind about the given topic.

You sighed deeply, yet nearly silently as you glanced over at the incompetent male next to you. He was older than you, but not by much at all, and he certainly did not act as though he was older than you in any sense, if anything he acted younger than you. You were already fed up with his shit and you only recently joined his class, a new semester starting up which brought the beginning of this new class, with him by your side.

You couldn’t help but feel like the universe was picking on you to an extent. I mean, pairing you up with someone like him. You focused on school all the time, homework was a stress-relief for you, and if your hand didn’t have a pencil in it, your head was buried in a random book you pulled off one of many bookshelves littering your near-empty dorm bedroom. Meanwhile, Jaehyun hasn’t completed a single assignment for any subject on his own, making either his friends – meaning the ones who kiss his ass to be considered “cool” around the campus – do it for him, or he simply flirts with the professor into passing him for the assignment, whether he’s done it or not. He seems like he has a superiority complex, like he believes he’s all high and mighty, better than everyone he’s surrounded by.

You hated that. You truthfully loathed that about him.

Not to mention, he noticed that you liked to hang out by yourself and he took it into his own hands to find you friends so you’re not lonely, because he thought that’s why you were always separated from the crowd. There is no explanation for why he decided he needed to be the one to find you friends, but he did it without asking you first, showing up to your dorm with a bunch of random people and inviting him, as well as those random people, into your place.

Now that you’re sitting in class, waiting for the professor to dismiss the class so she could go home and rest for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but glare at him. You wanted to rip his gorgeous brown strands of hair out of his perfectly sculpted head, gauge his stunningly tired hazel eyes out, and rip that tongue out of his sexy mouth as he flicked it over his bottom lip while focusing on something popping onto his phone screen.

“What are you looking at me for?” he asked, eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity in them, pulling one earbud out of his ear, waiting for a response.

“I just realized you’re quite handsome,” you shrugged, turning back to your notes as you glanced up at the professor again.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where did this come from?” he sat up quickly, bumping the desk and sending his textbook falling down onto the desk, a loud bang echoing through the room, all eyes snapping over to him. He apologized quietly to his classmates and the professor who simply sighed, waving his apologies off, being so accustomed to his disturbances by now that it didn’t bother her quite as much as it would’ve when she had first welcomed him to her class.

“Yes, Mr. Jeong, I’m well aware you’re sorry, you always are, aren’t you?” she inhaled deeply, speaking again only as she exhaled, “Well, that should be all for today’s class session anyway. Please, enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

She spun on her heels and walked to her desk, gathering her things before racing out the door, making her way out faster than any of the students themselves had even gotten out of their chairs. You stood up as well, scoffing with a subtle wink as you looked over at Jaehyun who was just sitting there staring up at you, his head cocked, looking like a lost puppy, “I will simply kill you with kindness since the alternative is illegal.”

With those words, you packed your books into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before walking out the same door the professor had exited from. He hurried after you, question after question flying out of his constantly gaped mouth until you arrived in front of your dorm, sighing and spinning around to poke his chest with your pointer fingers, “This is where you stop, but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

He nodded quickly, “Definitely. I’ll meet you here in the morning. When’s your first class?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, genuinely not being able to believe he was kissing your ass so much. I mean, all you were trying to do was play the same game he’s playing with you, but toward him instead. How is he falling for it so quickly? You laughed before handing him your phone, letting him put his number into the device before throwing it back into your pocket, “I’ll text you.”

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

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Anything for You

Leviathan's obsessed and desperate for your love

Bottom!FTM!Yandere Levi x Top!Masc!Yandere Reader

↳ [Event Request] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Phone Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Murder, Blood, Nipple Play, Creampie

↳ W.C 1,204

Leviathan is completely and utterly obsessed with you. Every morning, evening, night, his thoughts are full of you.

Thoughts of you smiling, holding his hand, talking to him, holding him, kissing him, fingering him, going down on him, fucking him, marking him with your teeth or even a knife, the list goes on. He hasn't gotten to the last four yet but he prays it'll happen soon. He loves you so much he'll do anything for you. Anything.

Levi lies down on the side of his bed, calling you while you're visiting the Human World. His hand is down his pants, fingers working his wet pussy to the sound of your voice. "I love you…" He says in almost a whisper, embarrassed to admit it despite the fact that you're dating.

"Yeah? How much?" You ask in a low voice.

"M- more than TSL." He responds.

"More than your brothers?" You press on.

"Yeah.." He muffles a moan from your current tone.

"Would you kill one of them for me if I asked, Levi?" You question.

Levi freezes. "Wh- what?"

"If you love me more than them, you shouldn't have a problem, right? I'd kill anyone for you, Leviathan."

"Ri- right…I would…I would kill anyone for you too." He's never killed before but he loves you so much that he'll do it on your command.

You let out a satisfied hum. "Good boy, do you know how happy that makes me?" You smile on the other side of the phone. Levi lets out a loud moan from the praise. "Are you touching yourself, Levi? You sound amazing when you moan for me." You chuckle at the embarrassed but pleased sound he makes. You pull your shorts down and masturbate along with him.

"I- I would do anything f- for you, [Name]." Levi whispers into the speaker.

"I know, baby, you're too good to me. I wish I were there." You sigh, forced to imagine how he looks masturbating. "How many fingers are you using?"

"Tw- two.." Levi responds.

"Can you add two more for me, baby? Imagine they're mine."

"Ah- okay…" Levi pushes a third finger inside before forcing a fourth through, stretching him ever so nicely but not as nicely as your fingers could. And it couldn't compare at all to your cock, he hasn't gotten his virginity taken yet but with how slender his digits are he knows they're nothing compared to it. "I did it- ah~"

"Good job, baby, you're doing so good." You praise him, breathing heavily thanks to the hand on your cock and his cute noises.

"[Name]~" He whimpers, sliding his fingers in and out his pussy. "Wan- want your cock~"

You groan. “I need your pussy, Levi, need to fuck you, baby.”

Levi moans your name over and over as he reaches his peak. "Please- please- please-" He repeats, sloppily pleading for something he already deserves. His begging is like music to your ears. Levi lets out another loud moan as he comes, breathing heavily as he comes down from his high.

"Such a good boy.." You murmur. "So perfect for me. I’ll be back by tomorrow.”

Levi hears a knock outside his door and immediately opens it, jumping into your arms with a grin on his face.

“Missed me?” You chuckle, closing the door behind you.

He nods. “What were you doing there?”

“Oh, you know, eliminating some…problems.” You grin. “Just a few, now dead, fools who thought they had a chance with you.” You weren't really in the human world, you were still here and exterminating a few useless pests.

Before he can process your words you bring him into a messy kiss, melting his thoughts away. You bring him to his bed and drop him down onto it. He watches you strip down to nothing while he mindlessly does the same, staring holes into your perfect body.

You climb onto the bed and spread his legs, grinning at how wet he is for you. You kiss his little dick and pull away, taking your cock and slowly sliding it inside him. Leviathan squirms around, feeling pain in the best way possible.

You lean into his neck and bite him, marking him as yours. Levi lets out a loud moan, planning to keep his neck uncovered and show it off later.

“You’re mine.” You kiss his cheek before moving to his lips, bringing him into a short but romantic kiss while slowly thrusting in and out of him.

“I'm yours..” He breathes out, cheeks red. “I belong to you, [Name].”

“That’s right.” You pick up the pace, fucking into him roughly. “Good boy.”

Levi throws his head back, moaning in pleasure. He cries out your name, not caring for whoever hears.

“I feel so connected to you–” You groan. “You feel so good, Levi.”

His cheeks burn, turning an even darker shade of red. You bring him into a deep, sensual kiss, running your hands through his hair with your hand on his waist. Levi squeezes your length tightly, about to come. He wraps his legs around your body and moans into your mouth, arching his back as he orgasms.

You pull away and look at his gorgeous expression. “You’re so pretty..” You whisper and move your hands to his chest, pulling on his nipples as you fuck him, further stimulating his sensitive body.

“So- so good, [Name], you mm~ make me feel so good~” He sobs happily, cheeks flushed. “I lov- love you~”

“Say it again.” You breathe out, somehow getting harder inside him.

“I love you~!” He exclaims.

“How much, Levi? How much?”

“Mo- more than any- anything-” He replies. “I- I’d kill for- for you, [Name].”

You groan in pleasure, coming inside him. “Fuck…I love you too.”

You hold onto his waist and flip yourself onto your back, Levi on top of you. “Can you ride me, baby?” You ask, still hard.

Leviathan nods and grips your shoulders, moving up and then slamming down. “Ah~!” He gasps at the feeling, your cock hitting the perfect spot. He repeats that over and over, creating a rhythm bouncing on your cock.

You watch in awe at how beautiful he is. “So good for me.” You mutter, running your hands along his thighs.

Levi moans your name, pulling on his nipples and twisting them. He rolls his eyes back, getting close to an orgasm. “Fuck–” He whimpers. “‘M gonna come- [Name]~”

“Come on my cock, baby.” You encourage him.

As if on cue, Leviathan arches his back and comes. He grinds down on your length, too weak to keep bouncing but he wants to make you come.

“So cute..” You chuckle, bucking your hips up into his overstimulated pussy. “I’m close, sweetheart, just a little more.”

Levi moans, holding onto you as you fuck him. It doesn't take any longer for you to come inside him again, making him feel sticky yet euphoric.

Levi looks down at his shaking and bloody hands, a dead body just out of his field of vision.

“I love you, Levi.” You bring him into a kiss, ignoring the corpse and the blood on your bodies.

He melts into the kiss, tears falling down his cheeks. That was his first kill.

Like he said, he’ll do anything for you. Anything.

#wicks🕯works #wicks🕯️events #male reader #top male reader #obey me x reader smut #obey me smut #obey me x male reader #obey me x reader #leviathan smut #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan smut #yandere leviathan #sub leviathan #yandere x male reader #yandere smut #yandere x yandere #🕯️obey me #🕯️levi

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carmillascrusade · 4 months

Text

Shrouded affection finale | Emily Prentiss x f!reader

Summary: Good things don’t always last forever and Emily has a habit of self destructing.

Word count: 4,801

A/N: This is super late because my teachers hate me and keep assigning tests… and dialogue heavy maybe. Has anybody seen the new mean girls yet? I watched it on Sunday. @jellysaidshit @emilxprentiss @poorwritingandstalecoffee

The case was located in San Francisco. When Garcia had presented the case four women had been brutally murdered; each of their limbs broken and twisted in an inhumane way. Just looking at those poor women made you feel sick to your stomach.

How could someone do something like this? So evil. So deranged.

The case itself was long and gruelling. Restless nights made better due to you not having Emily to share your burdens with. You were currently getting ready for drinks at the bar with the team and the police department, a small but well needed celebration for cracking such a tough case.

You and Emily had both decided to just go in your work clothes. After all, you hadn’t packed for celebratory drinks.

Strobing lights obscured your vision as you pushed your way into the bar. Obnoxiously loud music blasted from speakers as you pushed your way through a sea of sweaty, half drunk bodies in hopes of finding your team. Emily’s hand was in yours as you guided her through the crowd, slightly shoving people out of the way in order to make enough room for you to squeeze past.

Emily had given you the rest of her gifts before you had left for the bar. The cool caress of the metal curled around your wrist a welcome reminder of Emily’s love for you. She had bought a gorgeous charm bracelet for you; each charm painstakingly hand crafted by a jeweller to represent significant moments shared between the two of you. You didn’t know how to react when you had opened it, instead you bursted into tears and hung onto Emily for dear life.

She was so thoughtful. So eager to show her love for you.

So perfect.

You couldn’t help but imagine a future with her and what that would entail. The familiar laughing of your teammates notified you of their whereabouts. Penelope’s incoherent spiels drowned out any other conversation in the immediate area, like a fog horn would any other siren. Her bubbly nature despite what you faced regularly would never fail to amaze you. You admired her, truly, for she continued to shine in a world full of darkness; undimmed by the many people wielding instruments meant to snuff her very light.

Emily chuckled beside you, ever amused at Penelope’s antics. The small collection of empty glasses reminded you or Emily’s numerous half full water bottles strewn around the side of her bed. She had told you that they were there for when she got thirsty throughout the night but they never seemed to decrease in number.

It had made you giggle when you had first saw them, Emily’s antics never failing to surprise you. Her quirks made her the person she is and you wouldn’t have it any other way; even if it meant that you were subject to her playing with your hair as she tried to stay awake.

Penelope’s ramblings came to a halt as she seen you approach with Emily trailing behind. A loud squeal pierced the air, causing multiple heads to turn to the direction it came from, searching for the source in mere curiosity. The source being Penelope.

“Hi! I’m so glad you’re here.” She slurred out at you, the consonants in her words drawled out ever so slightly.

“Hi, Penelope.” You greeted cheerily, dropping Emily’s hand in favour of supporting your conversation partner as she began to sway.

Just as you managed to get her back into her seat, the sheriff approached you, sheepishly asking you for a dance. Looking over her shoulder for Emily in the hopes of getting away from an unwanted dance, you were surprised to see her already dancing with someone else.

A beautiful woman at that. The blond woman was whispering in Emily’s ear, something salacious you assumed based on Emily’s vibrant blush and embarrassed chuckle. Your world seemed to slow down as you only seemed to be able to focus on them, heart stuttering in your chest, stomach dropping.

You felt sick. Clearly your little tryst had been just that and nothing more. Once cool metal, a gentle reminder of Emily’s affection for you, burned your skin. You wanted it off. You wanted to leave and never show your face again.

A gentle hand on your arm was the final straw. The tears you had so desperately been holding back finally broke free, pouring out of your tear ducts as water would a burst dam. Your heart was aching, throbbing in anguish, relentlessly beating against your ribcage in an effort to escape the damage associated with heart break.

“Are you okay?” A distant voice called out. Muffled and far away, as a voice would sound if speaking to you through a barrier of water.

Glossy eyes flicked up and met the piercing blue gaze of the sheriff, flooded with concern at your current state. Your response, if you could call it that, came out in a jumble of words. Your eyes flicked back to Emily and the blond to see the woman leading your lover away. No. Emily wasn’t yours.

Seemingly following your pitiful gaze, Sheriff Lister pieced the information together.

“How about we go outside. Get some air, hmm?” She was speaking to you as you would an injured child, gentle and nurturing.

You gripped onto her arm as she led you outside. The tears clouding your vision made leaving the bar far more difficult than it would have been under normal circumstances. Sweet whispers from Lister were occasionally granted to you, grounding you to the present, keeping you out of your head and focussed on the task at hand. Leaving the building.

The night air was cold, borrowing body heat as a neighbour would a cup of sugar. Frost covered the window panes of nearby shops, frigid and distance in the think cover of night. You focussed on your breaths rising as white puffed clouds, willing yourself to calm down.

You knew that Emily had commitment issues You knew that she was unlikely to return your affections. Yet you still pined after her anyways.

A fool.

The telltale click of a lighter sparking to life alerted you once more of the sheriff stood beside you. Her eyes were on you, hawklike in nature as she studied you from underneath her lashes.

“So,” she drawled out the word. “You and your dark haired coworker?”

You nodded feebly, the cold catching up to you now that you had calmed down, subconsciously causing you to draw your body closer to Lister’s. Ever perceptive, she noticed your state and offered you her coat.

“Won’t you be cold?” You asked, not wanting her to freeze because of you.

“I’ll be alright, darling.”

She cheekily grinned at you; the type of grin that would be charming if you weren’t recently subject to such heartache, the type of grin that sent girls like you reeling. You muttered a small thank you. For her jacket or for the kindness she was showing you, you weren’t sure.

“How about we go get some food, hmm? I’m sure some takeout place will still be open.”

Your stomach growling was answer enough.

Emily watched the interaction between you and that sheriff from across the street. Her stomach twisted uncomfortable as she watched her dry your tears, as she watched you wear her jacket and link arms with her. You should have been linking arms with Emily, not some random woman.

But, she couldn’t really blame you for seeking comfort elsewhere. After all, she had been the one to fall back into old habits. She had been the one flirting with another woman, with the full intention of destroying the very new, the very fragile relationship the two of you shared.

Emily Prentiss did not deserve nice things. She didn’t deserve you and your lovely smiles. She didn’t deserve your affection; especially after the stunt she pulled today.

Everything had happened so fast. One moment she was holding your hand, marvelling in your beauty and the next she was leaving the bar with a woman. A woman that wasn’t you.

She had seen you spot her with the blond, had seen your face fall and the tears you had not been able to hold back. And still, she followed the woman all the way until her hotel room.

It wasn’t until she got there that she had realised her mistake. The lips pressing against her were rough and sloppy. Inconsiderate of her feelings. All they sought was pleasure and a fast release.

She had pulled away then, leaving the hotel room with a flimsy excuse thrown over her soldier. What had she done? She yearned for your lips to be the ones on her, for your hands to be the ones touching her. She wanted your soft smiles and saccharine sweet kisses.

She needed them.

But, her self destructive tendencies had won again and she had lost the one thing in her life she wanted the most. You.

You who had to seek comfort in the arms of another woman because she had been the one to deal you pain. You who had been nothing but patient and caring towards her, never pushing her away when you had every right to do so. You who shone brighter then the sun and stars combined, brightening her once dark world until she could no longer feel the deathly grip of her past.

Emily didn’t deserve you. You were too good. Too pure to be corrupted by the likes of her. Yet you had always stayed.

Emily Prentiss had pushed away the only thing she held dear and she was the only person to blame. Her heart seemed to fracture with every step you took away from her, shattering completely as she heard your laugh- the one reserved for her alone- directed at somebody else.

But, she reasoned with herself, she deserved this.

Lister, or Kate as you had quickly learned, had taken you to get pizza, buying a large for the two of you to share. The two of you were currently sat on a park bench, with you giggling at Kate dropping pizza on her shirt and Kate furiously trying to get the stain off.

“You know, rubbing it super hard isn’t going to make the grease stain go away.” You teased before taking another bite of your pizza slice.

Kate narrowed her eyes at you in faux anger. Her rubbing soon stopped as she decided, finally, that it wasn’t doing any help.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s going on between you and what’s she called?”

“Emily?” You supplied.

“Yeah, her.”

“It’s a long story.” You sighed wearily.

“Ehh, I’ve got the time to spare.” She shrugged as she said it before resting her hand on your knee. “But don’t feel pressured into sharing if you don’t want to.”

You smiled at her, sneakily taking the last slice of pizza out of the box while she was distracted.

“ I’m in love with her.”

She laughed at that. “Yeah, anyone with a pair of eyes can see that, sweetheart.”

She received a soft slap to the side in response but you carried on with the story. It seemed that once you started, you couldn’t stop. Everything you had been holding in, keeping secret from your friends, tumbled out of your mouth.

You were crying again. The events of the day being so emotionally overwhelming that you couldn’t help yourself. Kate tutted in sympathy as she drew you into a hug.

“You didn’t deserve any of that.” She assured.

“I know. I know that, I truly do but I can’t help but feel like part of me deserves it.”

“How come?”

“Well, look at her. Emily is amazing. So amazing that she outshines everybody in the room despite just standing there.”

“Hey, you’re not too bad yourself, y’know.” She joked, trying to lighten the sullen and serious atmosphere that had built up.

“I guess.”

Your somber mood was only heightened by the cold chill beginning to set in your bones. Kate walked you back to your hotel room and you thanked her for the night. However, you knew it was getting late and you didn’t want her walking home alone, especially after the gruelling case you had just finished, so you asked if she wanted to stay.

It was the least you could do.

Surprise briefly coloured the faces of your team members before they schooled their features into a more neutral expression. What were you doing with the sheriff?

Emily was seething from where she stood beside JJ. Not only had to went on a late night rendezvous, but you had invited that woman back to your room and she was still here. Laughing and touching your knee without a care in the world.

That was Emily’s job. She was supposed to touch you and make you laugh. You were supposed to look at her like that, not the sheriff.

“What’s going on with those two?” JJ asked, nudging Emily with her elbow.

“I don’t know.” She spat back.

“You know,” she started carefully, not wanting to irritate her friend any further. “I saw you and that blond last night.”

She had said it as a statement rather than an accusation, but the way her eyes narrowed slightly and her gaze pierced through Emily’s suggested otherwise.

“Yeah, what about it?” Emily was getting defensive.

“Well, I don’t think you have the right to be jealous when you were all over that woman last night. We all saw you together.”

Emily huffed in aggravation because she truly had no right to be jealous, but she was. She had shot herself in the foot with her rash decisions last night and it stung. It stung so much that she couldn’t even look in your direction; fearful of your disappointed eyes or, even worse, you looking at another woman the way you once did her.

“They’re all staring you know?” Kate observed with a slight gesture towards your team.

You turned your head to look over at your team, their faces unreadable as they looked at you. Emily, however, was the only one refusing to look in your direction, instead biting her nails. You had always hated that habit of hers, how it brought her so much pain but seemed to be the only thing that soothed her.

The only thing but you.

She wouldn’t even look at you? Your sadness soon turned into anger, however, as you realised that you did not deserve to be strung along like you had been. If she didn’t want to look at you, fine, you wouldn’t bother with her either.

JJ started walking toward you, her curiosity getting the best of her as she drew closer to you and Kate. Did you not have feelings for Emily?

“Hey,”

“Hi Jayje,” you greeted her with a smile.

“Who’s your friend?”

“You know… Kate?” You shot her a questioning look. “We’ve worked with her and her officers the entire case.”

“Well yeah, I know that she’s Sheriff Lister but..”

“What’s she doing here?” You supplied.

JJ nodded, albeit a bit shamefully. Her cheeks and neck tinting red made you smile slightly. You wondered briefly if she had came on behalf of Emily, they were best friends after all, but Emily didn’t care about you.

“Kate took me to get pizza last night and by the time we came back it was too late for her to walk home alone.”

“Oh…” she trailed off before looking back at Emily who was staring off into space. “like a date?”

You and Kate both burst out in to laughter, stomachs tensing almost uncomfortably as you leaned on one another for support. JJ stared at you perplexed. Why were you laughing at her?

“If you’re just going to laugh at me,” she muttered, brows furrowed and lips downturned. “I’ll just go.”

You quickly composed yourself at her upset tone and reached out for her. “JJ, no don’t go. I’m sorry for laughing. It’s just, Kate and I are friends that’s all, I was pretty upset last night and she helped me. That’s all.”

“Upset? What? Why didn’t you tell any of us you were upset?” She questioned. Weren’t you friends?

“Perhaps you should ask your best friend why I was upset.”

Kate and you had shared numbers before parting with each other as neither of you wished to lose the friendship you had quickly formed. The flight back to Quantico was silent, a tense silence at that. None of that mattered now though as you finally back in the comforts of your own home. Your bed a necessary comfort after the tough week you had, it welcomed you as a lover would, warm and comforting.

Sleep evaded your grasp for the majority of the night causing optic to toss and turn in discomfort. What you were not expecting, especially at 4 a.m, was the abrupt knock at your door. You weren’t expecting visitors. Another three knocks rapped against your door. Your heart rate picked up and you reached for the gun in your bedside table before slipping out of the duvet.

It was better to be safe than sorry.

You barely registered the rain beating against the panes of your windows or the wind whistling a familiar tune. Instead you were focussed on the doorframe that loomed in the dimness of your foyer, daring you to get closer to it. Challenging you to a battle of wills.

You weren’t sure who you expected to be behind the door. Perhaps a rage filled criminal looking for vengeance or a renowned serial killer looking to make a reappearance. What, or should you say who, you weren’t expecting to be stood on the other side of the door was Emily.

…

Emily?

You went to slam the door shut, on,y to be stopped by the toe of a doc marten wedged between your dorm and its frame. How dare she knock on your door at this god awful hour. How dare she stop you from closing it. You did not owe her anything and you certainly would not entertain whatever pitiful display this was.

Furiously flinging the door back open, unconcerned with the bang it made against the wall, you jabbed your finger into her chest, effectively shoving her out of the doorway and back into the hallway. “What on earth are you doing here?” You hissed.

“Please,” she begged, eyes downcast shamefully. “please hear me out.”

“No. I don’t think I will.”

A sudden move almost toppled you over. Emily was on her knees, clinging you like her life depended on it, head nestled against your legs.

“Please!” She cried. “Please, please, please…”

Her sobs were muffled by your pyjama bottoms. You were in a state of shock. First of all, what was she doing here? Second of all, what had made her so upset that she was here, in front of you, down on her knees. Her shoulders were shaking alongside her sobs and you couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for her.

After all, feelings don’t just disintegrate over night and, as ashamed as you were to admit it, you are still in love with her.

You unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh, which seemed to make Emily even more upset. You weren’t really sure how to deal with the situation you had so carelessly been thrown into, so against your better judgement you pulled Emily inside. She wasn’t making it easy though. It is very difficult to move with an adult holding onto your legs.

“Emily!” You admonished. “I cannot move with you clinging on to me as you are!”

Her form shrunk at your tone and you realised that you needed to go about this a different way.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you.” You whispered gently, free hand reaching out the toy with her hair. “Please, can you let go of me so we can go inside? I’m not going anywhere.”

That seemed to get her attention as her head raised to look at you. Your heart shattered at the broken ‘promise?’ she whispered. How could someone make you feel everything and nothing all at once? Emily Prentiss was an enigma. Five minutes ago you were so certain that you hated her. But now? Now, you weren’t sure of how you felt. You weren’t really sure of anything.

It was difficult but you had managed to get her settled on the couch before placing your gun down. She was lied down with your blanket draped over her slumped form. Her tears had subsided for the time being, not that you could see much of her face with your small salt lamp being the only source of illumination.

You were in the kitchen making hot chocolate for the both of you. You had a feeling that it would be a long night. A long, emotional night. Emily’s cup was almost overflowing with the generous amount of marshmallows and whipped cream you had applied to the top of her drink. Yours was less severe.

Plopping down next to her on the couch, careful not to spill the drinks, you handed hers over. You were grateful for the lack of light as it allowed you to study her face without consequence. She was staring at your fireplace, eyes lingering on the framed photo of you and her on the mantle piece, seemingly lost in thought.

Your apartment groaned in discomfort due to the oncoming assault from the storm outside. Emily’s coat had been hung to dry as you ushered her in, thankfully your legs hadn’t gotten wet. The air was chilly from the wind seeping through the cracks of your windows. Emily was currently covered with the only blanket in the living room. If only you weren’t so considerate.

Your subtle shivers seemed to rouse Emily from whatever daydream she had found herself in.

“We can share the blanket if you want.” Her voice was so quiet that you barely heard it over the storm. She lifted her arm, allowing you to get under the blanket but you declined.

You couldn’t stand being that close to her. Not now. Not after that night.

“I’m alright.” You hadn’t mean to sound so cold.

Emily deflated at your disinterest in being close to her and you were starting to get antsy. Your fingers drummed against your leg in short, consecutive movements- a self soothing gesture you find yourself doing during times of high stress.

“Why are you here?” Blurted out of your mouth before you could stop it. It may have been blunt but you want, no need, answers.

“I wanted to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.” You scoffed.

“Please,” she begged, reaching out for your hands. Silently grateful that you didn’t pull away when she put her hands in yours.

“Make it quick.”

“What is she to you?” She asked, sliding onto her knees so she could sit in front of you.

You laughed. Full belly laughed in her face at the audacity she had to ask you that question. “Excuse me? You do not get to ask me that. Not after you had your tongue down another woman’s throat.”

You were beyond angry. How dare she ruin what you have and then come to your apartment in the middle of the night begging to talk. Snatching your hands out of hers, you pushed her away from you and moved through the dark halls of your apartment, wanting nothing more than the comfort of your bed and Emily gone.

“You can leave now, Emily.”

She scrambled up from the ground and ran after you. You wanted to cry as you heard the her crash into your furniture. Not only did she have to break your heart but she had to break your furniture too. One minute you were in your bed alone and the next Emily was on top of you. Clutching onto your shirt, head hurried in your neck as she started crying again.

“Please don’t leave me.”

“We were never together.” You couldn’t help but want to be mean back but there was also a question on the tip of your tongue, itching to be released. “Why’d you do it, Emily? Why’d you go home with her.”

“I didn’t!” Her voice rose exponentially before she controlled her outburst and lowered her tone. “Well, I did but we didn’t do anything. I promise! You have to believe me. She wasn’t you.”

“Why did you do it?” You repeated.

“I was scared. Everything I had ever wanted had finally fallen into my hands and I didn’t know what to do with it. You’re so perfect and I knew that I didn’t, no I don’t, deserve you. I’m sorry.” Her words were kind of officiating to hear through her stutters but you could make them out.

“Sorry isn’t good enough.” You were being petty and you knew it but you wanted her to feel the same gut wrenching feeling that you had. Attempting to sit up, you pushed her off slightly, only for her to clutch onto you even harder. “Perhaps you should go find another woman to entertain yourself with. I’m not sure if a relationship with you is worth pursuing.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

“I can’t trust you, Emily. How do I know you’re not going to run off into another woman’s arms as soon as things get tough?”

“Please, I’ve realised my mistake. You know I’ll never do anything if the sort ever again.”

“I don’t.” You whispered, heart feeling like it was been torn from your chest with every word you spoke.

Your eyes refused to meet hers and she couldn’t stand it. She reached up and cupped your face with both of your hands, gently turning your head so that you would be looking into her eyes. You were shutting her out but she needed you to listen. She needed you to know how much you meant to her.

“You don’t know how much you mean to me. I would defy the laws of the universe if it meant, however selfish that may be, that I got to spend eternity with you. One lifetime is not enough. I will always crave, no need; I will always need that moment more, that second longer, because I am utterly and hopelessly devoted to you.”

“Oh, please.” You scoff. “You were all over her!”

“And you weren’t all over that sheriff?!”

“Kate,” you fumed, jabbing her in the chest with your pouter finger. “Was there for me because you made me cry. You do not get to bring her into this argument when she’s been nothing but kind to me.”

The reminder of the misfortune she had caused you made her look like a wounded puppy, ashamed and guilt ridden. “I love you.” Her confession was accompanied with tear filled eyes and a wobbly voice.

“I’m not sure you do.” You felt as if the world had stopped as you muttered the words. Was this the end for you and Emily? Had your relationship stopped before it truly started?

“Don’t you love me?” She cried, desperate to hear you say it, just once.

“I do.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?!”

“ I don’t want you to hurt me again.” You confessed.

“I won’t.” Was repeated over and over. Soft promised whispered into your ear and lips as you finally accepted her embrace.

Chapped lips met yours, moving against you so softly and slowly as if they were afraid you would bolt away at any sudden movement. Two tear stained faces met each other in the middle, seeking out the comfort only achievable from being close to the other person. Tentative smiles played on your lips as you briefly pulled away, reflecting a mixture of relief and apprehension.

Emily’s hand found the back of your head ands yours the small of her back, the gestures being both reassuring and vulnerable at the same time. Your eyes locked with hers as you both silently acknowledged the mistake she made and, Jody importantly, the lesson she had learned from it.

Your heart felt like it was about to leap into the unknown. The air between you was charged with the whispers of forgiveness and the feeling of heartache beginning to lift. Your touch became Emily’s lifeline, grounding her to the present. You were here and you weren’t leaving.

As your lips met once more, you knew that you and Emily would share a future; one tinged with the promise of redemption and no more heartbreak. The kiss mended broken threads and bridged the gaps that had seemed to have been too vast to fill.

Yes. The two of you were going to be okay.

Chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you

97 notes · View notes

everlastingdream · 4 months

Text

Murderer

BAM-BAM-BAM

"Open the door!" Annabel hears her father's yelling, while she's panting beside piano.

She turns around to see shaking door and Leo franticaly barricading it. Her fiance (even if it's not exactly like that anymore) trembles slightly from fear, adrenaline and effort, her gun rattles at her side.

"We need to move fast" Leo- Lenore tells her, marching past Annabel to check the windows. "Perhaps we'll be able to-"

"Please, pet, we both know my father alerted the whole mansion. We won't be able to run. And even if we were, then what are you planning to do?"

She sees Lenore's back stiffen, finely shaking hand grips her wounded hip. Lenore slowly turns around.

"I got the plan B in that case."

Annabel watches her taking revolver from its holster. Lenore opens cylinder to show wide-eyed Annabel two bullets.

"We may not said our vows but I promised in my heart long time ago to love you to the moment I die and beyond" Lenore puts the cylinder back in and steps forward. Her eyes taking the shine of madness. "Let's leave this world to the one where we are free to love."

Annabel follow her actions with incredulous eyes and finally smirks.

"Very funny, pet. Why should we both die?" She steps from piano, joltting the sheet music. Papers are flying on the floor. "We'll just say that I didn't know anything" pounding on the door becomes more frantic "Then I'll find the way for you not to be executed. Then we'll both live."

"What the hell, Annabel?" Lenore screams, waving the gun around. "Do you hear yourself!? What is your idea of living after that!?"

"We both knew that farce is not endless. Yes, I will need to marry some guy, you will be sent to asylum... But! I will ensure that it's a nice one and I'll be able to visit you sometimes." Annabel turns back to piano, fully immersed in the plan. Yes, the life will be hard, but it's deffinetly the most perfect outcome! "And after many years I think I would be able to get you out of there. Perhaps under pretence of teaching my kids to-"

When Annabel facing Lenore again, the blue eyes are dark and empty. Her hands are dropped without any strength. Lenore's face is filled with so much agony, that it's not even betrayal. Like she knew why Annabel was saying all of that but the mere thought pained her so much she wasn't able to move.

"So all of this is just some game to you" she murmurs and before Annabel has the chance to react, Lenore turns to the door, stiff. "Listen! I just wanted to love! And now, that Annabel Lee know I'm a woman, she hates me. Have it your way!"

Annabel takes confused step forward, mouth open to say something she will never remember.

And Lenore faces her again, gun to the head, with mad smirk that Annabel liked once.

"I love you, Annie. Please, at least cry about me a little. Even if it's a lie".

And then she shoots.

Annabel is not able to think, to move, to breathe. Lenore's body drops to the accomponiment of her father desparate screams. In Annabel's world everything deadly quite.

Please, she hadn't loved Lenore enough to go down with her, but it hasn't meant, she wanted her dead.

She hadn't loved Lenore enough. Hadn't loved. Hadn't...

Annabel looks away with force, tears her eyes from the pool of blood. And sees the sheet music that fell earlier. Lenore said she had surprise.

On the paper blood stains the title: "Annabel Lee".

And suddenly her heart is torn out of her chest. Annabel throws herself forward by the sheer will. She gathers Lenore's head to her chest, watching her blood blooming on her dress like a heart.

Annabel laughs mirthlessly. She doesn't have a heart. Lenore was her heart. And Annabel decieved even herself about her feelings.

She hadn't allowed herself to love Lenore fully, to open to her as fully as she had.

Annabel takes the gun with one remaining bullet to her chest, right upon Lenore's blood.

If there is somewhere after death, I wish we could be together again. I'll do anything for you, destroy everything in your way, sacrifice everyone and myself. And I will love you as you deserve to be loved.

When Deans tell her that she was killed by the person who loved her above all else, she almost giggles. Because of course she was.

The moment life faded from Lenore's eyes, Annabel Lee ceased to exist.

#nevermore #nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #lenore nevermore #annabel x lenore #my take on their death #what if i dreamt

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slavghoul · 1 year

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Interview from Classic Rock Magazine #309

What stands out in your memories of 2022?

TF: Going back to touring was a fantastic feeling! In the beginning it felt almost unreal; still with a bit of restriction, which was kind of unintuitive, but the last tour we did, in August/September, was as good as normal. We released the record when we said we would, we managed to back it up with seventy shows. We cancelled one show in total. That's a good result.

Impera has dark, historically rooted themes, but it's also music that makes the listener feel so many things - joy, aggression, excitement, sorrow... After such a turbulent couple of years there's something cathartic about that.

I am very happy about how the record came out, and that it seems to be well-received among our fans. That's a tremendous feeling. I feel like I managed to do a lot of things I set out to do. We're gonna continue next year, we still have a lot of things to do. But right now we're just recharging a little.

Kaisarion has been a hit live. For a song about the brutal murder of a female Roman philosopher, it really gets the party going.

Yeah, I'm still surprised that with a song that does what it does - and was so well received and opened up the shows - there's never been talk about turning it into a single. Which I don't understand. But at the end of the day it's a label decision, and people around that decide which ones will, quote-unquote, 'work best'. And I've realised that I'm not really capable of choosing. I remember Mary On A Cross was a B-side.

It's weird how that happens with some songs.

Yeah, I must say I feel very optimistic with regards to how that song is taking a life on its own. Even though it was technically a B-side on a fun additional thing [2019's Seven Inches Of Satanic Panic] - it was not our main single from a new album we have always played it ever since it came out, on every show. Maybe a few exceptions, but I've always pushed that song as something that I felt very good about.

On that subject, you're viral on TikTok now. What is it about that platform that appeals?

I hardly knew what it was until two months ago! I have two almost fourteen-year-old kids, so of course I'd heard the phenomenon mentioned. It's an insanely big thing among kids and teenagers. What happens is they create these short snippets, funny, sad or emotional clips, to which they often tag some sort of music or sound. And if you are a creator of sound or music, you might be tagged on to a clip that might go 'viral'. That way you hit a lot more people that you might never entertain, you know, aiming your guns at. So it's a bit of a crap-shoot as well. We are not a big mainstream act, so obviously there's going to be a mixed bag of reactions. Because people in general are kind of strange to a lot of these aesthetics of rock, and especially the darker aspects of it.

It has brought the band more attention.

But if all that attention is a good or a bad thing, we do not know yet. There have been people who might have come on to the track, and as soon as they see what the band is about - or what they perceive the band to be about - there's backlash, because it's like: "Oh my, God fearing hater!" "I don't like it!" "This is communist bullshit!" So there are two sides of the coin. But it's a great bonus if we can get new people, especially kids, into liking rock music or other things, or if it makes them feel in any way better-informed, if you will.

Do you think TikTok will be a bigger deal for musicians in the future?

I don't know. I think when you're a musician, and you're making records, you need to have a certain strategic mind. But your job at the end of the day is making records and playing live. That is the heart of the matter. If you sit around waiting for a viral thing to happen, you can wait a long fucking time.

Back in May, the identities of the Nameless Ghouls were confirmed on social media. How do you feel about them not being strictly nameless any more?

Well, they haven't really been for quite some time. So for me it was not an overnight sensation. As long as it doesn't in any way interfere with what we are doing, there's no desire that I have for people not to feel proud or happy about what they're doing.

You've lamented not being able to play more guitar. If you could be the guitarist for a day in any band, which would it be?

Good question. There's several bands. I would have loved to be what Mick Taylor was in 1969, coming into the Rolling Stones at their best era - but I would have stayed around! That would have been a great experience. Very fun music to play. Definitely within the limits of what I can play really well. I spent a lot of time as a kid learning how to play guitar. Otherwise I would love to play in the Red Hot Chilli Peppers; I love what John Frusciante does. Def Leppard might be a good fit too. Joe Elliott spoke very highly of Impera when it came out. That would have also been really cool. Also a fantastic band. In an alternative reality, in an alternative life, I would have wanted to do a lot of other things. But I did hear that [Joe said those things], and it was very heartwarming, of course. A very big honour.

#the band ghost #tobias forge #interview

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theharrowing · 3 months

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Collateral 🗡️ POV: Jimin

Jimin learns that his boyfriend played a role in his recent attack and he decides to get revenge.

Or, the one where Jimin attempts to kill a man, but needs to call for help, and 2seok arrive to take care of more than just a dead body.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!

if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!

🗡️Jimin x his ex, Jimin x Seokjin x Hoseok

🗡️ word count: 9.7k

🗡️ mafia au, complicated relationships, graphic violence, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+

🗡️ warnings: power bottom Jimin with ex; bottom/sub Jimin & top/dom Seokjin with allusions to top/dom Hoseok. drugging someone using cocaine laced with pharmaceuticals with the intention of killing them; use of anal plug; anal sex; restraining someone against their will; sex pivots from consensual to dubious; cocaine use; murder; being cradled in the bosom of one friend while the other suffocates his dying boyfriend with a pillow; bdsm dynamics; wearing a collar; sounding - use of sounding rod; safewords; subspace; allusions to blowjob & anal fingering with the promise of sex.

🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! i don't have Jimin's relationship tagged in the overall fic because this is the first and last time we know him by name and it feels insignificant. this chapter is a bit brutal at times. heed the warnings.

🗡️ early draft beta read by @blog-name-idk - but it has undergone some pretty big non-beta’d edits

🗡️ posted feb. 2024 - originally nov. 2022 | read on ao3

Jimin stares at his reflection in the vanity mirror. He has recently colored his hair a nice medium brown, and his gaze traces the waves that perfectly rest over his forehead, marveling at a job well done.

Beauty is a weapon that Jimin hones and uses expertly, and this new look of his is simply an act of sharpening his blade.

R&B music plays constantly through speakers placed in every corner of the room, setting the mood while Jimin slowly and delicately applies a dusting of pink eyeshadow, highlighting with white below the brows, and finishing with soft black lines along his lids that peak in a faint cat eye at the ends. Then he applies mascara and dots gemstones along his brows and beneath his eyes.

His right eye is still bruised with deep blues and purples surrounding the socket, but the swelling has gone down, and Jimin rather likes how dramatic it looks dusted in shimmery pink.

To complete the look, Jimin applies a light pink gloss to his lips, then gently blots on a deep red eyeshadow just to the scabbed-over slit on the right side that has been healing nicely. The injury stands out, and one would never know a touch of powder has been added to accentuate it.

"Perfect," Jimin says with a grin as he sits back in his chair in only his briefs and takes in his reflection.

Jimin promised Yoongi he would lay low because it was the only way he figured he would have the freedom to return as quickly as possible and enact his revenge without the others worrying too much about him. The moment he left the mansion, he drove straight to his suite at Paradise. He feels guilty for lying, but lying is one of the few privileges Jimin has always had, and at times it comes as second nature to him.

Taehyung had let it slip that Jimin's soon-to-be ex-boyfriend is associated with the man who attacked him. While the family men were beating information out of the man, he name-dropped Jiyong and mentioned he is one of Ryujin's men who had been sent to spy on the family.

Jimin hates that he was not a bit surprised to hear the rumor. He had been having suspicions for several weeks that Jiyong may have been up to something, and he has recently been keeping him at arm's length and not inviting him to any of the mansions. Since keeping Jiyong away from the property, his attitude has begun to take a turn, and he has been unpredictable and moody, which Jimin now attributes to him being unable to complete his mission.

So, naturally, Jimin has decided the only thing left to do is corner the man, apply a little pressure, and force him to speak, all while slowly killing him. And what better place to do so than in the comfort of his suite at Paradise, where no one will dare interfere with his actions?

His usual guard, who is already stationed outside his room, has been informed to ignore any screaming he may hear—aside from a safeword that Jimin has chosen, of course. The room is bugged for his safety, and Jimin tries not to imagine all the things his trusty guard has heard over the years. After all, that is how he was saved from the beating that could have ended up being a lot worse.

Jimin steps back from the vanity and gives himself one more glance before sliding down from his tall makeup chair and walking to his closet. The room is nearly the size of his suite, with rows of clothing, costumes, bondage gear, jewelry, footwear, and other accessories. He walks to the first rack, which is lined with robes and lingerie, and he grabs a mesh black knee-length, long-sleeve robe with feathers lining the hems.

Beneath the robe, all Jimin wears is tight pink briefs, and he ties the black cord around his waist loose enough to allow plenty of skin to stay exposed, showcasing several semi-faded bruises on his chest and neck. Jimin considers painting over those with a little makeup as well, but a light knock on his suite door indicates that his time to prepare has come to an end.

"One moment, jagi!" Jimin calls from the closet.

He smooths his hands down the soft mesh of his garment and pulls his lips into a sweet, practiced smile. All the world is a stage, and Jimin is ready to put on a final performance for Jiyong.

With one last glance around the suite, Jimin confirms that everything is in place, and he turns off the closet light and walks to the door. The room is simple, with a large bed in the corner and shelves of sex toys between the bed and the closet door. There is a tiny kitchenette between the closet and the en suite bathroom, where Jimin can prepare something small to eat, but he only uses the space to store alcohol and the occasional snack.

There used to be a small dining table and chairs, but after the attack, Jimin had all superfluous furniture removed, leaving only the bed, makeup chair, and vanity. He had come too close to getting the back of his head bashed into the corner of the hardwood of the table, and he does not want to take the chance again.

The lighting is dim, with pink and purple lights giving the room a bit of a romantic glow. On the bed are black satin sheets with wrist restraints tucked just below the pillows for bondage play.

Jimin loves being restrained and made helpless during sex. There is something he finds so addicting about handing over all control and being used as his partner pleases. Of course, bondage play is reserved only for people who Jimin trusts. Even so, the restraints he ordinarily uses have a safety mechanism to allow him to break out of them easily, should he need to.

The restraints currently nestled under Jimin's pillow have no such mechanism.

When Jimin opens the door wide and takes in the sight before him, his smile nearly falters. Jiyong's hair is black, short, and messy—framing his handsome face nicely—like he rolled out of bed moments before arriving. He wears a simple white tee tucked into blue jeans, and Jimin wonders how it would look with bright, deep crimson red spreading over the thin, white fabric.

"Hey, baby boy," Jiyong says as he eyes Jimin's attire with a smirk. "When you said you wanted to speak in private I didn't realize you meant you wanted to fuck. I would have put a little more effort into my appearance."

Jimin takes a step forward and rubs his hands over Jiyong's chest. He can feel his heart beating gently behind his ribs, and he tilts his head slightly down to capture Jiyong's lips in a chaste but sweet kiss.

"I had plans to just talk," Jimin mutters against Jiyong's lips. "But then I thought about how long it's been since we've had some time for just ourselves and I couldn't resist changing into something more enticing."

"Enticing?" Jiyong responds with a grin. "You're absolutely breathtaking, baby."

Jimin doesn't miss the way Jiyong's gaze lingers on his bruised eye and split lip as he grips onto his shirt and backs into the suite. He glances over Jiyong's head, making eye contact with the guard who stands with his arms crossed in the hall, just opposite his door. The guard nods once, and Jimin tugs Jiyong over the threshold and closes the door, which locks behind them.

"Let me fix us a drink, okay?" Jimin suggests, and Jiyong nods as he eagerly reaches for the black cord around Jimin's waist that holds his robe closed. Jimin swats at his hands and giggles as he backs away.

"Have a seat," Jimin says as he nods to the bed.

Jiyong does as instructed and sits on the edge of the bed. He rubs his hands over the dark sheets and keeps his eyes fixed on Jimin, who saunters over to the kitchenette while keeping his attention partially on Jiyong as best as he can.

Jimin pulls two short, round glasses from a small drying rack on the counter and grabs a decanter of whiskey that Yoongi gifted him, pulling the intricately designed triangle crystal top off with an inviting pop as the rubber stopper comes loose from the opening. He pours them both a finger of whiskey and puts the decanter top back on, pushing it nice and firm to create an air-tight seal.

"Whoa," Jiyong calls from the bed, "using the special occasion whiskey?"

Jimin hums and turns to Jiyong with a smile. "That's right. Jeonggukie also gave me some new product that I would like you to try. I had a sniff shortly before you got here, and I feel incredible."

"Damn, starting without me?" Jiyong chides.

On a small mirror, Jimin has racked up a nice thick line of cocaine, triazolam, and codeine. He brings it over to the bed with an already rolled-up note and hands it to Jiyong, then turns back to the kitchenette for the glasses of whiskey. Jiyong wastes no time snorting the concoction.

First, there's a hiss, then a gasp. Jimin turns to Jiyong with wide, worried eyes, and much to his pleasure, he watches as his darling boyfriend struggles to hold his composure. Snorting the medications could not have felt good, Jimin thinks to himself. Probably it burns his cocaine-raw skin like crazy.

"Everything alright?" Jimin asks sweetly.

"Fuck's in this?"

Jimin chuckles, adding a lilt of playfulness at the end. "Cocaine, silly."

Jiyong taps on his nostril with the knuckle of his bent index finger and sniffs several times. "Smells off. You said this was new?"

"Just came in last night."

"And you had some?"

Jimin hums and hands Jiyong his whiskey. "I did," he lies with a soft smile.

The line Jimin racked up was pretty thick, even for an avid user such as Jiyong, and he smiles as he grabs the empty mirror from the bed and sets it onto a nearby nightstand. It is astounding, really, how someone who snorts so much cocaine does not immediately find something off about the powder and refuse to snort it.

None of the family men would have been that stupid. But, then again, none of them do drugs outside of what Jeongguk supplies.

Jiyong swirls his whiskey and gives it a smell, then sips it slowly, and Jimin holds back laughter at his newfound paranoia. Originally, he had planned on mixing the pills in his whiskey, but after some trial runs, the powder of the crushed-up medication was always detectable, either visually or by taste.

"Alright," Jiyong says as he adjusts his posture, sitting up and rolling his shoulders. He winces as he sniffles loudly. "What's the special occasion?"

Jimin holds his drink out toward Jiyong, which Jiyong taps his glass gently against, and as Jimin shoots back the bittersweet liquid, Jiyong follows suit and does the same.

"Get on the bed, jagi," Jimin says. "I want to give you my good news with your cock buried deep in my ass."

Jiyong coughs, seemingly shocked by Jimin's words, and Jimin laughs as he leans to give him a weak pat on the back. As Jiyong bends forward and attempts to catch his breath, Jimin peels the empty glass from his fingers and sets both glasses beside the mirror on the nightstand. Also on the small, black table is his silver vial of unlaced cocaine.

Perhaps it is selfish, Jimin thinks, but despite his overwhelming desire to dig his claws into Jiyong and kill him with his own two hands, he wants to fuck him one last time. He even went through the trouble of prepping himself, just in case the pills kick in too quickly.

Jiyong stands from the bed and stumbles forward a step before correcting himself, and Jimin watches as panic flashes over his face while he begins to undress. He leaves his clothing in a heap beside the bed and sits naked on the mattress, cock half-hard and looking heavy between his legs.

"Lay down, jagi," Jimin instructs, and Jiyong smirks as he scoots back on the black silk, then rotates himself to lay with his head on the center pillow.

Jimin bites his lip and swishes his hips to the soft R&B that plays overhead as he rubs his hands down over his pecs and tummy, then back up, feeling the soft black fabric of his mesh robe. Jiyong watches intently, following the movement of Jimin's hands, and Jimin approaches and bends slightly at the hips as he sticks his hands under the robe to gather the hem of his briefs and pull them down.

"Gonna keep the robe on?" Jiyong asks with a grin.

Jimin nods, feeling rather femme fatale, and saunters over to the bed, wasting no time to climb on top and straddle his boyfriend's hips one last time.

"I prepped myself," he says sweetly, giggling as Jiyong's eyes go wide, and he reaches behind Jimin to feel for himself.

A small burst of pleasure shivers through Jimin when Jiyong's fingers touch the end of the metal anal plug, and he lets out an exaggerated moan and throws his head back. Jiyong tugs on the toy a few times, then slowly begins to pull it out, sparking Jimin to let out a genuine moan as he falls forward into Jiyong's chest.

"So eager you prepped yourself," Jiyong teases as he tosses the plug aside and presses two long fingers into Jimin's stretched-out hole, forcing a sob to fall from between his lips.

"Need you now," Jimin moans, rolling his hips and fucking himself onto Jiyong's fingers.

Jiyong reaches beneath Jimin with his other hand and grabs his cock. He presses against Jimin's hole, in which his fingers are still buried, and Jimin trembles and slaps Jiyong on the chest.

"One or the other," he complains, feeling horny and impatient.

Jiyong pulls his fingers out and gives Jimin's ass a light slap, groaning, "Alright, alright."

As soon as Jiyong presses his cock head into Jimin's ass, Jimin takes over and sits up, rocking his hips gently despite the overwhelming stretch. Jiyong slides his hands over Jimin's ass, grips him with intention, but then drops his arms to his sides. A light sigh leaves Jiyong, and Jimin opens his eyes to find him staring at the ceiling, looking spaced out.

"What's the matter, Ji?" Jimin purrs as he picks up his pace, rolling his hips up and crashing them down.

Grunts and groans come from Jiyong, and he blinks several times. Finally, he mutters, "What was in that cocaine?"

Jimin slows his hips to a languid pace and grabs both of Jiyong's hands. He pulls both hands above his head and leans forward, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

"What do you mean?" Jimin asks sheepishly.

"I feel...fuck. Tired."

Jimin hums, reaches above Jiyong's hand to tug on a thick black strap that runs from the bed frame, to just under his pillow, and pulls out a black leather wrist cuff. Jiyong does not enjoy being restrained, so Jimin works fast to secure the cuff, which locks in place with a velcro strap that wraps around the entire wrist.

"What—" Jiyong yanks at his restraint and attempts to claw at the velcro with his other hand. "Jimin, this isn't funny."

Jimin, who continues to slowly fuck himself on Jiyong's cock, fishes out the second restraint and wrestles it onto his wrist. Jiyong grunts in a feeble attempt to beg Jimin to free him, but he doesn't seem to have a lot of strength left in him, and the words die on his tongue. Jimin giggles as he tightens the velcro, then he sits back up and bounces his hips high, slamming them down hard, hoping to cum fast before he loses him completely.

"Triazolam and codeine," Jimin moans as he throws his head back.

"Wh—"

"The cocaine," Jimin groans as he makes eye contact with a very heavy-lidded Jiyong. "I laced it with triazolam and codeine."

Jiyong rocks his hips as if in a panic, possibly attempting to shake Jimin off, but it does him no good. Jimin is close anyway, and he snakes one hand into his robe to squeeze at his leaking cock head, hissing from the burst of pleasure that the contact brings.

"Don't you want to make me cum, baby?" Jimin asks, moaning through each word as his high increases.

Jiyong stammers, "Of c-course."

"It's a shame I'll never cum on this cock again," Jimin whines as he rubs the dribbled streak of precum down his shaft.

"Jimin," Jiyong mutters, "what are you doing?"

Jimin feels so close. He picks up his pace, squeezes his eyes shut, and sobs out as his orgasm rocks through him. He catches all of his release in his hand and leans his weight on his other hand, which presses into Jiyong's chest.

Despite bringing himself quickly to orgasm, everything feels lackluster, and Jimin sighs as he lifts his hips and drops Jiyong's still-hard cock out of him.

Originally, he wanted to blacken Jiyong's eye and split his lip as the other man had done to him, but now that Jimin comes down from his high, he just feels disappointed. He feels sad.

"Was this relationship a sham from the start or did Shin recently buy you?"

Horror widens Jiyong's heavy eyes. "Ji-Jimin, p-please."

"Answer me!" Jimin shrieks, balling his fist as his cum runs down his wrist.

"I'm sorry, Jimin," Jiyong mutters. "Please f-forgive me."

"Forgive you for what, exactly?"

Jimin dismounts Jiyong and gets off the bed. He picks up his pink briefs and wipes his hand off with it, then grabs his silver vial of cocaine from the nightstand, unscrews the top, and brings the attached tiny metal spoon to his nose.

"I w-was just supposed to sp-spy on the family," Jiyong mutters pathetically.

Jimin sniffs back the drug, dips the spoon in once more, and sniffs a second small pile into the other nostril. Then he screws the top back onto the vial and holds it tight in his fist as Jiyong continues.

"I wasn't...su-supposed to f-fall in love."

Anger and bile rise up Jimin's throat, and he turns to Jiyong with a frown. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"I d-do love you," Jiyong whines, and Jimin's fist trembles. He wants to punch Jiyong until his face is unrecognizable. But he doesn't want to fuck up his hands; Jimin needs his hands.

"You love me? Which is why you sent someone to beat me up? Weird fucking way to show your love, Ji!"

Jiyong squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. A tear falls down the side of his face, the sight of which just adds to Jimin's fury.

"I didn't k-know—he wasn't supposed to do th..." Jiyong trails off, face falling to the side.

Jimin approaches and slaps Jiyong several times on the cheek. Jiyong startles and opens his eyes wide and pleadingly.

"Baby," Jiyong whines.

"If you confess to me what happened I will unrestrain you, force you to vomit the pills, and we can part ways and call this done," Jimin lies. "Otherwise, you are going to die."

Jiyong's eyes open wide, and he swallows hard. "I was Sh-Shin's man from the start. But I stopped giving her inf-information. That's why she sent that guy, who—who—. He was supposed to rough up me. Not you. I'm sor-sorry."

"Ryujin sent you to spy on us, and then you got too close and betrayed her? So she sent a man to set you straight and he attacked me instead? Is that what happened?"

Jiyong nods frantically, eyes threatening to roll to the back of his head. "P-please, you can't leave me here to die. Someone will f-find out."

"People overdose in these rooms every week, jagi. Nobody will ask questions when Yoongi's men are the ones handing your body over to the morgue."

A weak, garbled sob comes from Jiyong, who attempts to scratch at his restraints. He kicks his feet out, but it is clear that his limbs are too heavy to move very well, and he gives up, curling on himself as best as he can as he cries.

And Jimin, who thought he had everything under control, sobs before he can stop himself. In the six months that he and Jiyong have been spending time together, he has managed to catch feelings.

They were compatible. They fit together nicely. And it was all a lie, doomed from the start because he was sent by the enemy and chose to keep that a secret even as they got close.

The worst part is that if Jiyong had been honest with him about betraying Ryujin, they could have tried to make it work. It would have been an uphill battle, but he would have done his best to trust him.

Jimin turns away from the bed in time for tears to fall in heavy streams down his face. He can't do this. He can't follow through with the murder. He needs help.

On the vanity counter sits Jimin's phone, and he walks over and picks it up in shaky hands, dialing Yoongi's number. Yoongi answers after one ring.

"Hello?"

"Hyung," Jimin sobs, voice squeaking. "Please don't be mad at me."

"Jiminah," Yoongi responds firmly. "I could never be mad at you. Tell me what is happening. What do you need?"

"I c-came to Paradise," Jimin hiccups. "I brought Jiyong and I drugged him but I can't finish him. I need help, hyung."

Yoongi chuckles. It is soft and bright, and it takes Jimin by surprise. He can't help but smile slightly from the sound.

"Jiminah, what did I tell you about trying to do everything by yourself?"

"I know," Jimin whines, feeling pathetic. "I'm sorry."

"Seokjin and Hoseok are at House of Cards. I can send them over now, or I can come to you in the next thirty or so minutes."

"S-Seokjin-hyung is fine."

"Don't cry, okay, Jiminie? Your hyungs will take care of it."

"Th-thank you, hyung."

The line goes dead, and Jimin lowers his phone from his ear. There was a part of him that feared Yoongi would be disappointed in him for going against his wishes of laying low. But he should know by now that Yoongi could never be disappointed in him. He has said as much many times, and he has never shown signs of faltering.

Jimin takes a fortifying breath and holds it in his lungs before breathing it out slowly. His phone vibrates in his hand, and he lifts it to find a notification from Seokjin that says, "Be there in 5."

Hyungs will take care of everything, Jimin reminds himself. They always do.

The room is still and silent, and Jimin glances at the man on his bed—naked and breathing deeply, fast asleep. Jimin wasn't sure how much it would take to force an overdose, and his original plan was to smother him in the event that the pills were not enough. But now that he faces the need to finish the task, his arms feel shaky and weak.

Jimin is not a killer. He may be family to a pack of ruthless men, but Jimin cannot bring himself to kill someone.

With one more deep exhale, Jimin returns to his closet and grabs the clothes he came dressed in—a black long-sleeve velvet button-up and lace-front leather pants.

The intention was to go to the club and find someone to fuck away his frustration with, but now as he slides on the thick leather pants, he does not feel like doing much of anything. He even considers finding something else to wear since it will be Seokjin and Hoseok taking him home, but he doesn't have the strength to choose a new outfit. Maybe his hyungs will consider his outfit amusing.

Jimin manages to loosely tuck his shirt into the front of his pants before there are three firm knocks on the door. Seokjin always knocks thrice. Jimin smiles weakly to himself and shuts off the light in his closet, then makes his way to the door, keeping his eyes off Jiyong.

When Jimin swings the door open, Seokjin immediately lifts his hands to Jimin's chin and bends to place a soft kiss on his bottom lip. Jimin gasps and immediately relaxes into the touch, and Seokjin places a second peck on his nose before standing straight and peering over his head. It has been years since Seokjin kissed him, and Jimin stands in a bit of a daze.

"I have always wondered what his cock looks like," Seokjin muses.

Jimin backhands him on the chest with a chuckle, coming back to earth as he shouts, "Hyung!"

"Tell us what you need," Hoseok says softly as his head appears from the side of Seokjin's broad shoulder.

Jimin takes a step back and allows both men into the room, and as Seokjin walks past Jimin toward the bed, Hoseok closes the door softly and approaches Jimin, gently taking his chin in his hands just as Seokjin had.

"Baby, your new hair color is stunning," Hoseok says sweetly, eyes sparkling. "You look so much younger."

Jimin sniffles and smiles, feeling tear streaks staining his cheeks. "I look younger because I've cried my makeup off like a child."

Hoseok chuckles and pulls Jimin into a firm hug, engulfing his head and shoulder with his arms. He smells like a freshly picked bouquet, and Jimin wraps his arms around Hoseok, sinking into the feeling; Hoseok has never hugged Jimin like this before.

Then, Jimin hears it: a muffled voice groaning and struggling from behind him. Hoseok holds Jimin even closer.

"It'll be over in a second, baby, don't worry," Hoseok mutters against Jimin's head, and Jimin nods feebly and lets out a deep breath that he had been holding.

For years, Seokjin and Hoseok have called Jimin baby, and for years, Jimin thought it was condescending at best. But like this, tightly wound in Hoseok's arms, the name brings him comfort. Perhaps, he thinks, he had it all wrong.

"Did he manage to confess?" Seokjin asks, and Hoseok slowly lowers his arms from around Jimin.

Jimin is not sure what he expects to see when he turns around, but he is thankful to find that Seokjin has completely covered Jiyong with the black silk sheet. Seokjin glances around the room and begins to collect Jimin's things, grabbing his vial of cocaine and his cell phone and shoving them into his pockets.

"He said Ryujin sent him to spy on us and that he ended up fall—" Jimin stops himself, then sighs and nibbles on the inside of his lip. "When we started dating he began to lose sight of the mission. Apparently, the guy who roughed me up was actually sent here for him. Or so he claimed. I don't know. I don't fucking care anymore."

Hoseok wraps his arms around Jimin's shoulders, pulling him into a tight back-hug while Seokjin washes the whiskey glasses and mirror that had been left on the nightstand.

"Oh, baby, you clearly do care," Hoseok says as he rests his head against Jimin's shoulder and nuzzles his nose below his ear. "And that's okay. We can help you forget."

"Forget, how?" Jimin asks, watching as Seokjin tidies up the makeup that was left on the vanity, then gathers the clothing that had been piled on the floor.

Seokjin turns to Jimin and quickly raises his eyebrows a few times. "Any way you'd like, pretty bird. What's your poison, these days?"

What Jimin really wants is to be tied up and fucked senseless until he forgets the way Jiyong's cock felt inside him—until he forgets his own name. But he doesn't know how to ask for that, even if it happens to be something that he assumes is on the table.

Luckily, Jimin doesn't have to ask because these two can read him like a book. Reading people is one of their many shared gifts.

"Let's get you home and take good care of you, hmm?" Hoseok suggests.

Seokjin smiles and sends him a wink. It all seems innocuous enough, but Jimin can hear it in their voices—can see it in their eyes.

Jimin nods and lets himself smile. "Okay."

On their way out of the club, Jeongguk and Taehyung show up to take care of Jiyong's body. They say Yoongi sent them, and they both give Jimin a warm hug, which is a strange thing to receive from either of them, much less both.

The ride to Seokjin and Hoseok's house is short; Jimin disassociates from the moment they get into the car, with only the sound of the large metal gate at the end of the drive pulling him from his daze. A sedan sits parked in front of the garage, so Hoseok pulls up behind it and gets out. Before Jimin can reach for the handle, his door is pulled wide open, and Yoongi stands before him with his arms outstretched.

"Hyung," Jimin mutters. He pauses before exiting, then steps out of the vehicle and into Yoongi's embrace.

"I'm so sorry for all you have been put through, Jiminah," Yoongi says against the side of Jimin's head.

Jimin sighs and wraps his arms around Yoongi. Although he is grateful for so much care, he feels embarrassed by all the attention. The youngest two hugging him earlier was the final straw.

"It's fine," Jimin grumbles.

Yoongi backs from the hug but takes Jimin firmly by the shoulders with both hands. "It is not fine," he says, looking Jimin sternly in the eye. "I know you had feelings for him. And I know you are a softie who hates to kill. But you are not alone. Please do not ever feel like you have to do anything alone."

"I was afraid to ask because you wanted me to lay low, and I went against your word," Jimin confesses.

"Jiminah," Yoongi whines, knitting his eyebrow in frustration. "You know that no matter what, I will never be upset with you. I told you to lay low for your protection, but you are not a child. I trust you to do what you think needs to be done. Just please do not do everything by yourself. We are a family for a reason, and I am here for you, no matter what."

Jimin wiggles out of Yoongi's grasp and mutters, "Yes, hyung," as he attempts to follow Seokjin and Hoseok into their house, but Yoongi stops Jimin, grabbing his hand and giving him a gentle tug.

"One more thing," Yoongi mutters as Jimin turns to face him. Yoongi looks tired, like he hasn't slept since the last time Jimin saw him, and he wears a black tee with no button-up, which is concerning. Even in his own home, it is rare to find Yoongi dressed down in the middle of the day.

"What is it, boss?"

Yoongi sighs and nibbles on the inside of his mouth, crossing his arms over his chest. "Our darling knows you were the queen."

Anxiety drops to the pit of Jimin's stomach. "How—"

"She had a dream about the night she killed Seungri, and it was hard to hold back the fact that we knew all about the incident. She wanted to know how much we knew, so Namjoon and I took her to dinner and did our best to explain the events that led to that night. It...did not go very well."

"Oh."

"I do not think she is angry with you, but it is hard to say. But just be mindful of that, next time you see her. Maybe you two should have a conversation. I did not tell her much about your involvement; after a certain point she no longer wanted to listen."

Jimin swallows a lump and nods. Every inch of him tingles with anxiety, and he hates the idea of having to look her in the eye, knowing that she knows. He had planned to tell her eventually, but he was banking on not having to for a while longer—at least, not until he got to know her a little better. Curse Yoongi and his moments of kindness.

"Understood," Jimin mutters sullenly.

Yoongi wraps his arms around Jimin once more and gives him a kiss on the cheek, which causes Jimin to grimace and attempt to wiggle away.

"Everyone is so loving today," Jimin whines.

With a chuckle, Yoongi drops his arms from around Jimin. "The youngest two act like grumpy old men, so I have always kind of viewed you as our baby."

"Great," Jimin mutters as he rolls his eyes, though the thought of being the baby of the group does delight him quite a bit. Of course, he can never let them know that. "I'll lay low for real, this time. If dove needs space, then I can wait but if it seems like she wants to talk, let me know, and I can come right over."

Yoongi nods, flashes half a smile, and turns toward the path that connects his mansion with Seokjin's. With a final, fortifying breath, Jimin faces the house to find Seokjin standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, but his body language is otherwise relaxed and patient—head leaning to the side against the door frame with one ankle crossed over the other. It feels oddly domestic to approach the man waiting for him in such a fashion, and Jimin hesitates before he takes a step forward.

When they were younger, back when Seokjin joined the group and was getting trained to be a family man, Jimin was the only one not sleeping with anyone within the group, to his estimation. Taehyung and Jeongguk never came out and said anything at the time, but there was an abrupt shift in their demeanors one day—a playfulness that Jeongguk rarely displayed with anyone else—that led Jimin to believe that something had been going on.

Seokjin quickly broke down Jimin's walls and his inclination toward avoiding platonic sex, and they spent a good two months exploring new depths of pleasure and pain, and waking up in each other's arms. And then Hoseok joined the team, and slowly, Seokjin began to replace his time with Jimin with his time with Hoseok.

At first, Jimin felt salty about it, but as he got to know Hoseok, he understood their bond. Not only do they come from affluent families, but they are both sadistic little freaks with a bloodlust, and a penchant for manipulation. Perfect for one another.

Over the years, there has been an open invitation for Jimin to join them in bed. And over the years, Jimin has nearly caved many times. But fucking one's friends is oftentimes messy, and Jimin has always worried about being the cause of some rift between bonds of irreplaceable men, potentially making Yoongi's life more difficult.

Not to mention, being his own top whore at Paradise has afforded him the ability to use others as a means to sexual needs and escape. So he has stayed out of their relationship.

But there has always been an inkling at the back of Jimin's mind—not only to see how Seokjin has changed over the years, but to discover what Hoseok is into, as well. Jimin has done well to keep his distance and stave off his curiosity, but today he is feeling rather vulnerable. Today he wants to experience subspace—something only Seokjin has ever helped him to accomplish.

As Jimin approaches the house and walks up the three concrete steps to the landing, Seokjin straightens his posture and holds out his arm.

"Hoseokie is fixing up a quick stew. Would you like me to draw you a bath, or would you like to stay as you are?"

Jimin considers it. A bath does sound nice, but he would rather not be alone with his thoughts right now. "I'll stay as I am."

"Wonderful," Seokjin responds as he lets his door fall closed behind them and secures two deadbolts. The smell of something hearty and rich hits Jimin's nose, making him suddenly aware of how hungry he is. Jimin toes out of his shoes and kicks them near the neatly stacked rows of shoes and boots, and Seokjin does the same with a giggle—as if he knows Hoseok will be displeased with his carelessness, and he finds it delightful.

Jimin leans into Seokjin's hold as they make their way through the living room to the kitchen. Most of the houses on the compound are the same. Open concept foyer, living room, and kitchen with spare rooms on the first level and stairs that lead up to bedrooms and bathrooms on both floors. Each house has more rooms than its occupant—or occupants—have a need for, so many of the homes have guest rooms, offices, gyms, libraries, and so on.

Seokjin and Hoseok have tailored several guest rooms to be sexual fantasy havens, decorated a certain way, and stocked with outfits and toys to suit that particular brand of fantasy. Hoseok is rather proud of his dollhouse room and has shown off pictures of pink walls and lavish furniture that appear as if the room had come straight out of a barbie dream house. Seokjin, on the other hand, brags most about his puppy playhouse, stocked full of harnesses and leashes, with various cages throughout.

It occurs to Jimin, as he is led to the kitchen, that he has not been back to this house since Hoseok moved in and began to decorate. There is a certain quality to the furnishings that gives the home a baroque feel—intricately hand-carved wood, gold leaf accents, and velvet upholstery. Count Dracula himself could have assisted with the interior design. Jimin smiles as he cranes his neck to see the various paintings and sconces on high, wainscotted walls.

In the dining area is a wooden table—as intricately hand-carved as everything else they own—that seats eight beside a wall of glass which overlooks a surprisingly minimalist garden. In the distance, Taehyung's mansion can be seen sticking out from a wall of tall shrubs and columnar trees. Just past the dining area, Hoseok is busy in a surprisingly modernly furnished kitchen with black marble counters and black steel appliances, dancing to a tune he hums while stirring a pot.

"Have a seat!" Hoseok calls over his shoulder, and Seokjin guides Jimin to the chair at the head of the table, muttering, "Guest of honor."

Jimin rounds the table and sits, then places his hands on the top of the hardwood and stares down at the mauve ceramic bowl and matte bronze utensils. He feels anxious and does his best to breathe deeply—in through his nose, pushing his belly out while keeping his shoulders down, and out through his mouth—to keep the swirl of panic that fights inside him at bay. Meanwhile, Seokjin is in the kitchen, presumably helping Hoseok while Jimin waits.

"Wine or soju, baby?" Hoseok asks.

"Or whiskey?" Seokjin suggests.

Jimin turns his head, glancing from the corner of his eye to find Seokjin leaning against the marble counter with his black sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair is pushed off his forehead today, and he looks absolutely stunning—but, then again, Seokjin always looks stunning.

"Soju is fine," Jimin responds with a soft smile, and watches as Seokjin straightens his posture and makes his way to the fridge. Then, Hoseok spins with a large, steaming pot in mauve oven-mitt-covered hands, and Jimin's eyes follow as he rounds their large marble island and brings the pot to the table.

Hoseok's wavy dark hair falls over his forehead, and after the pot is plopped onto a cloth pad in front of Jimin, Hoseok turns to him and winks, then straightens and makes his way back into the kitchen. Jimin stares ahead at the wafting steam as Seokjin and Hoseok come back and forth, bringing soju and side dishes before settling down.

"You happened to need comfort on a day that I was already planning to make short rib stew," Hoseok says cheerily. "I had everything prepped and simmering since this morning."

Seokjin serves Jimin a bowl while Hoseok fills everyone's glasses, and they dig in. The stew is hearty and does not pack too much spice or overwhelming flavor, which is exactly what Jimin's anxious stomach needs, and he feels grateful for his family men.

Dinner comes and goes in a bit of a daze. The food is delicious, but Jimin's appetite is not what it normally is, so he slurps and chews slowly while Seokjin and Hoseok hold conversation around him. It is nice, Jimin thinks, to be present without having to contribute much. He is not sure he is really in the mood to talk, but he enjoys hearing the back and forth of his hosts, even if he struggles to catch exactly what they are discussing.

After their meal, Seokjin clears the table while Hoseok fills their glasses with more soju. Jimin feels satisfied but not too full, and all the soju has helped relax him enough that the anxiety is at bay. Perhaps Seokjin and Hoseok being present has helped in that sense, too. Jimin is not entirely sure.

"What would you like, baby?" Hoseok asks. "We could relax in front of the television...or we could head upstairs and take your mind off everything in other ways."

Jimin is pulled from his thoughts—most of which are just spaced out staring into nothing—and blinks at Hoseok, who sits to his right with his chin cradled in his palm.

Hoseok continues, "We could relax in front of the television...or we could head upstairs and take your mind off everything in other ways."

"I'm not sure," Jimin admits. "But I could use a distraction...more than what the television might offer. What did the two of you have in mind?"

Hoseok grins, then bites his lip, humming and cocking his head as if in thought. "I've wanted to have you in our home for so long, I feel too overwhelmed with possibility to choose."

Warmth floods Jimin's neck and cheeks, and he flits his tongue out to wet his lips, watching as Hoseok's eyes follow the movement. "Same," he mutters softly, suddenly feeling shy.

"Well," Seokjin offers as he returns to the table and drapes himself over Hoseok's shoulders, "we could tie you up, whip you, and all that usual stuff. Or, we can take you into one of the doll rooms and dress you up like our pretty little princess, then punish you until you cry."

"Or, we can also go easy on him," Hoseok chides as he turns to look at Seokjin with a playful smile.

Seokjin shakes his head and, staring into Jimin's eyes, says, "Baby doesn't want us to go easy. Does he?"

"No," Jimin responds with a delicate shake of his head, still in disbelief that his conversation is happening. "I want to lose myself."

"What a delight to know some things never change," Soekjin says.

Jimin does not miss the way Hoseok's face lights up with delight. The wide, toothy grin sends a shiver down Jimin's spine, and he has to look away, gaze falling to the cup of soju before him. He picks it up and takes a gulp of the cool, bittersweet liquid, then sets it down.

"I know just the thing," Seokjin says as he stands up straight and holds his hand out to Jimin.

Jimin scoots his chair back from the table and stands, then takes Seokjin's hand. A gasp escapes him as Seokjin tugs him close, forcing him to stumble into his chest.

"Come this way, baby."

"Okay," Jimin mutters softly.

Hoseok stands and peers over Seokjin's shoulder. "Okay is an improper response for your hosts. What do you say to us, baby?"

Jimin knows this game—has played it many times with Seokjin before, and is absolutely unsurprised that Hoseok prefers the same.

"Yes, sir," he tries and is rewarded with another devious grin and a nod of Hoseok's head.

Jimin is led through the dining area, back through the living room, to a set of stairs beside the entrance, and then up. The master bedroom in these homes is a door at the end of the hall—a large room that takes up most of the second floor, but Jimin knows that he is not being taken there. Seokjin leads him to a large wooden door on the right.

As they approach, Hoseok takes the lead and keys in a passcode, which unlocks the door. When Hoseok walks in, dim lights flick on automatically, revealing a room with large, comfortable couches and chairs, a bed, and shelves upon shelves of sex toys—from impact toys to dildos and plugs, and more.

Everything is black and dark red, with bursts of yellow and red light glowing from beneath and behind furniture and stationary devices, with no lighting overhead. Hoseok walks to a large black sofa in the center of the room and sits on one of the far ends with his arm outstretched over the back.

"Go to Seokie, baby," Seokjin instructs, and Jimin mutters, "Yes sir," as he releases Seokjin's hand and makes his way to the couch, slotting himself beside Hoseok's open arm.

"Jinnie, bear, what did you have in mind for us, today?" Hoseok asks, craning his neck to follow Seokjin's movements through the room.

Seokjin stands before a large, dark armoire with a door swung open on the left side. Hanging from hooks on the inside of the door are various small toys, and Jimin immediately recognizes what Seokjin is reaching for because this is something they used to do together all those years ago.

Jimin shifts on the couch, feeling a wave of apprehension return as he watches Seokjin take a small silicon rod and begin to wipe it clean with a cleansing pad. Seokjin has always been meticulous with cleanliness and sterilization after play, but he always gives his toys and tools an additional swipe with a gentle cleanser before use.

With the door to the armoire wide open, Seokjin turns to the couch and raises an eyebrow at Jimin—a silent question.

Jimin nods, whispers, "Yes, sir," and swallows thickly while Hoseok's fingers dance over Jimin's shoulder, sending a tingle of comfort through him.

"Want to wear a collar for us, baby?" Hoseok offers.

Jimin does want to wear a collar, and he turns with wide, eager eyes and nods. "Yes, sir."

"We bought one just for you," Hoseok blurts out. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth before continuing. "I-if you'd like that one?"

"You bought me one?" Jimin asks, feeling affection burst and bloom in his chest.

"We've been waiting for you to join us," Hoseok admits, blushing pretty and nervous as his cheeks take on a slightly darker shade in the dim light.

Jimin feels overwhelmed with joy but also with regret. Some part of him always assumed that there was no place for him in their bed—that their invitations were a courtesy simply extended to the man Seokjin used to fuck, and nothing more.

Hoseok scoots to the edge of the couch and slides himself away from Jimin, then he makes his way to the same armoire Seokjin stands near. From a drawer on the right side, Hoseok produces a black, rectangular box, then he stands on his toes and kisses Seokjin on the cheek before returning to Jimin, sitting beside him on the edge of the sofa with his body angled in and their knees touching.

Jimin waits eagerly as Hoseok opens the box, revealing a very thin black leather collar with pale pink metal o rings hanging from various points around the length. Jimin's breath gets caught in his throat as tears well in his eyes, and he looks up to Hoseok, then to Seokjin, and back at the choker.

"This is—" Jimin begins, but his words get caught. "Thank you."

"Your hair was that pretty pale pink back when we bought it," Seokjin says as he approaches with a small silicon toy in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.

Jimin smiles and runs an index finger over the hoops. His hair was pale pink when he met Hoseok, which means—

"You bought this for me that long ago?"

Hoseok hums and smiles softly. "We always wanted you to come to us, baby."

"I'm sorry," Jimin mutters quietly before he can stop himself.

Seokjin tuts his tongue and sits on the couch beside him. "Nonsense. We knew you would come when you were ready. Well, we hoped, anyway."

Hoseok interjects, "Admittedly, we did get a little jealous every time you brought some new guy around. We began to wonder if you held a grudge."

Gently, Hoseok removes the collar from the box and holds it up to Jimin's throat with a smile. As he wraps the thin leather around Jimin's neck and leans in closely to tighten it, Jimin breathes in Hoseok's floral, musky scent. The cold metal hoops kiss his skin and cause goosebumps to break over his arms.

"Perhaps a little," Jimin admits softly. "I guess for a while, I felt replaced."

Hoseok finishes clasping the collar, then sits back and gently takes Jimin's face in his hands. His pretty lips are downturned in a frown as he says, "I'm so sorry, baby."

"We have you here now, and that is all that matters," Seokjin says as he gets onto his knees on the floor.

Jimin straightens out and sits back on the couch while Seokjin crawls between his knees, and Hoseok's hands slide from Jimin's face, down to his neck, and to his chest. Seokjin sets the items in his hand beside Hoseok, then places both hands on Jimin's knees and rubs them up to his thighs. The warmth of Seokjin's hands and the distant but familiar sight of him looking up at Jimin from between his legs stir up myriad emotions.

Seokjin leans forward and, with a smirk, finds the end of one of the strings on Jimin's pants with his teeth. Jimin's breath hitches as Seokjin gazes up at him through his lashes and begins to slowly sit back, untying Jimin's leather pants using only his mouth. Jimin finds himself panting as Seokjin runs his hands down and up his thighs, then further, to his waist.

"Let's get you out of these," Seokjin purrs with a smile. "As much as I love the sight of you in leather."

Jimin nods, already feeling a bit dazed, and he lifts his hips as Seokjin gathers the waistband of his pants and briefs and tugs them down, past his thighs. Seokjin pulls, forcing Jimin's legs straight up in the air and he slides down in a slouching position, giggling softly as his hands grip the edge of the cushions for stability.

Rather than free Jimin's legs from the leather pants, Seokjin stops with Jimin's knees restrained and his legs standing tall, and rubs down the backs of Jimin's bare thighs, spreading him slightly. Jimin gasps and struggles to hold himself in position as Seokjin's fingers tease near his balls and down to his ass.

"Hyung," Jimin whines, though for what he whines, he is unsure.

Hoseok helps Jimin by sitting high on his knees beside him and tugging at the pants, freeing his legs. As soon as Jimin's feet fall free from the fabric, his legs spread, and Seokjin takes advantage of the position and pushes his thighs open, spreading him wide. Jimin hardly has a chance to adjust before Seokjin's warm, wet tongue is pressing and laving against his half-hard length.

A breathy whimper punches from Jimin's lungs, and he shivers as Seokjin leaves sloppy, wet kisses along his thighs and groin in no discernable rhythm or pattern. Jimin slowly, gently lowers his legs and attempts to sit up and get more comfortable, but Seokjin presses Jimin's hips firmly into the couch, and Hoseok removes the cushion behind him, slowly lowering him onto his back. The couch is far deeper than Jimin realized when he sat, and he nearly distracts himself by wondering how thick those cushions are, but the sound of a lube bottle snapping open instantly dissolves all thought.

"Have you sounded since doing it with me?" Seokjin asks.

Jimin shakes his head, then remembers Seokjin probably can't see the movement and says, "No, sir."

"We'll go nice and slow, baby," Hoseok says as he pets Jimin's hair. "Just tell us what you need, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"And if you go non-verbal and need me to stop?" Seokjin asks as he drags his teeth over the soft flesh of Jimin's inner thigh.

"Clap my hands, sir," Jimin whimpers as the idea of becoming so high from pleasure that he might lose his ability to speak tingles through him.

"Good baby," Seokjin and Hoseok say in tandem, sending a wave of arousal and excitement crashing over Jimin all at once.

All Jimin wants is to be so good for them that he breaks and becomes a shell of himself—a vessel for nothing but pleasure. Jimin does not reach that level of high with anyone else. Not with his now-dead ex, and certainly never with his clients.

His achievement of subspace relies heavily on not only his level of trust but also on the unique types of pain that he has only explored with Seokjin. He found out about subspace by chance with Seokjin and has never allowed anyone to come close since.

Jimin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, relaxing into the couch as best as he can while Seokjin gathers his cock and gently holds it in his hand, pointed straight up. Jimin prefers to sound while only partially erect, and he tries only to think of things that will stop him from becoming too hard, replaying the visual of alertness draining from his exes eyes as the laced cocaine pulled him from consciousness.

Remembering the murder that had taken place mere hours ago is probably a mistake, and Jimin nearly begins to spiral and panic. But then the blunt tip of a small, silicon rod begins to enter the hole of his cock, and Jimin returns to reality. Seokjin is so painfully slow that as Jimin's eyes fly open and he stares up at the ceiling, all thoughts that had previously plagued him are wiped clean.

The stretch of his urethral opening is a familiar sting Jimin does his best to adjust to, and he gasps and claws at the couch as he tells himself over and over silently to breathe, just breathe, in slowly and out just as slowly, breathe, breathe, breathe.

"Does it hurt, baby?" Hoseok asks as he gently pets Jimin's hair.

"Yes, sir," Jimin manages through clenched teeth.

"Color?" Seokjin asks, stilling his movement but keeping the silicon inserted.

In the past, they always used the stoplight safeword system, where green signals for Seokjin to keep going and red signals for him to stop.

"Green, sir," Jimin responds, almost desperately.

Seokjin continues to slowly press in, stretching Jimin open with the small tool. The feeling no longer stings, but it does feel intrusive in a way that makes him want to squirm and claw and fight. It also feels so good—so unbelievably, incomprehensibly good—that Jimin trembles and sinks and does his best to disappear completely.

"You're doing so good for us, pretty baby," Hoseok says sweetly, running his hand over Jimin's clothed chest, grazing his fingertips over a nipple and sending sparks through him.

"Th-thank you, sir."

The pressure in Jimin's cock evens out, and Jimin tilts his head to find that the sounding rod has been completely inserted, with nothing but a little black loop sticking out from his tip. Jimin drops his head back to the couch and lets out a deep exhale. Already, he feels tingly and breathless—light as a feather on the breeze.

"I'm going to stretch you open a fuck you now," Hoseok mutters into Jimin's ear, making Jimin gasp. "Does that sound good to you, baby?"

"Yes, sir."

"And if we completely lose you to subspace, what should we do?" Seokjin asks.

"Continue to fuck me," Jimin mutters with a smile. "Use me until you're done and clean me up."

"You're sure about that?" Hoseok asks as his teeth graze over Jimin's throat.

Jimin has never been so sure of anything in his life. "Yes, sir," he whimpers desperately. He trusts them with his life.

A lube-slick hand strokes Jimin's cock, and his sense of reality cracks. The pleasure feels so intense with the sounding rod snug inside him, that all he can do is gasp and continue to weakly claw at the cushion below him.

Jimin hardly recognizes the weight on the couch shift, nor his upper half being lifted enough to tug the shirt over his head before his back is returned to the warm, soft cushion.

When Jimin's legs are spread and a long, slick finger is prising him open, he realizes that he is lying fully on the couch—that he has been shifted around entirely. Punchdrunk on dizzying euphoria, all Jimin can comprehend is what his body feels; nothing else in the world exists.

And when a warm, wet mouth engulfs his cock at the same time as two fingers stretch him open, Jimin fades completely from his body and floats to the ceiling.

For the first time in years, Jimin feels the warm, peaceful hug of subspace, and he is totally and completely gone. His body and mind and trusted solely to these two handsome devils, and he is completely at their mercy.

thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoy these extras. i lament only writing from one point of view, so these have been a lot of fun for me. hopefully it’s not too confusing plopping them into the story as early as chapter 10.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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#jimin mafia #jimin angst #jimin smut #seokjin mafia #hoseok mafia #yoongi mafia #bts mafia #bts angst #bts smut #bts poly #fic: collateral #Spotify

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