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The wind was atrocious. 

It whipped at his sides, arms, and legs, tousling the black hair on his helmetless head. 

It blew his thoughts around in a torrent of rage, carrying the tornado of his emotions straight to the gas pedal. In the uppity neighborhoods of Mither, the speed limits were naturally a bit higher to compensate for the luxury vehicles driven by the wealthy, but he was going far far above the suggested limit.

The terrible gusts continued, pushing him side to side on the road. It was as if some unknown force was trying to keep his motorcycle from getting to the mansion where he was sure Jimin was. He'd already been to Avalon's Yard and checked the red tent for occupancy, only to discover the tent was blown to shreds. 

Jimin was no where to be found in the junk yard.

He wasn't camping out in the shadows of the incinerators, nor was he dallying in the abandoned construction equipment littering the yard. His fat bird was no where in sight, either.

But something else was.

Lengthy, reddish strands of hair clung to the makeshift couch in Jimin's trashed abode. They were silky and strong, and V instantly knew whom they belonged to.

"That bitch." V snarled at the wind, imagining Psyche with her stupid katana and pathetic fighting skills. Relying on a sword...

He'd almost exterminated that bimbo the other day, until Booboo's theater crowd came to her rescue. The whole plan was upset because of the rotten dedication of Jimin's performance group. 

To make matters worse, V had lost one of his favorite rings upon departure. The apparition of Jimin was right, in a sense, to call him a failure. But by no means was he a coward.

The motorcycle's breakneck speed affirmed that, humming violently as he sped through the high hills of the rich. From his intel, V knew the relative area of Psyche's new home, although he'd never been there before. Only his men had been sent to keep tabs on her, since his recent plans only involved Jimin. 

But by definition, anything to do with Jimin now included Psyche, given their close relationship. That bothered him beyond repair.

A flash of purple caught his attention.

His buzzing motorcycle screeched to a halt on the outskirts of a cul-de-sac toting several buildings, all of which belonged to a silvery mansion under one address. He ran a hand through his messy hair, leaning over the handlebars of his bike to get a closer look. 

"What is that...? Oh, fuck. Disreputable ocular faculties. " V slammed a hand on the motorcycle's head. 

He was staring at a purplish silk pendant hanging off the side of a second-story window. The cloth had two trapezoid shapes pushed together and a few letters scribbled underneath them. Some teenage banner for something.

It wasn't his purple Second. Not even close.

With a kick, he booted his motorbike into high gear and rumbled back onto the main road. He white-knuckled the handles and swerved around other vehicles, keeping a close eye on all the passing houses. All he needed to spot was one purple sliver, one purple blob, and he would know where his Second had run off to.

He skimmed the yards quickly, studying the windows for any sign of Psyche or Jimin. In his mind he was already construing a plan to infiltrate Psyche's home without setting off the alarms. With his repertoire of tech knowledge and hacking, he could invade any home system without detection. 

V rode down various lanes and streets searching for signs, but it wasn't until he reached a hidden corner avenue that his intuition told him he was in the right area. He could smell them in the wind, the scent of Psyche's sweetly musky perfume and the dirty smell of bird feathers.

He was definitely on the right track.

Surreptitiously, he cut his bike's engine and allowed it to peter out before hopping off. He beheld the handful of houses from the avenue's end, knowing instinctively which house it was before he could even see all of it. 

It was gated, fenced, and had dense ivy strands blocking the majority of the home's view. A trail of fresh footsteps was visible in the yard, relatively fresh by the looks of it.

"I found you, bitch." V breathed, hiding his motorcycle in a neighbor's thicket. He removed his hand gun from his pocket, starting off at a fast pace on foot. "And this time I won't fail to get rid of you."

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"He's been listening to you this whole time. Off and on, of course, since he has to sleep. But that guy named X in your production is wired. A listener. He's one of V's men, collecting information on your performance. You have to fire the X guy, otherwise V will keep trying to ruin your production with inside information." 

Pan's father paused for breath, looking wide-eyed at Psyche and Jimin across the table. 

Pan laid unresponsive, curled into his father's lap. The poor boy had cried himself to sleep following the father-son reunion, so overwhelmed from the sight of his missing father that he sobbed all his breakfast energy away and basically passed out. 

They'd been talking for a good thirty minutes since the Second entered the mansion. The friendly purple man filled them in on his position as V's personal servant and what that meant for Booboo's Spectacle. So far, it wasn't looking good.

"V was pissed off after the shootout ended badly for him. I'm so thankful my Pan didn't get hurt in the crossfire." The man stroked Pan's crew cut black hair. "I would have been heartbroken if he'd gotten hurt...I wasn't aware Pan was even alive until I overheard V mention it that time ago. Oh, I'm so glad I overheard that..."

"Me too." Jimin chided, playing with the edge of a napkin. "I mean, we didn't expect you to show up here, but we're thankful you did. Pan told us he didn't know where his father went. And it's so nice to see a friendly face...even if that face appears to be stalking you."

"Yeah, sorry about that." Pan's father scratched his neck awkwardly, adjusting the neat collar of his servant uniform. "You see, I didn't mean to spook you all. I just wanted to see my child. But I can see how scary that must have been for you."

"We almost killed you." Psyche grinned. "Well, we were planning on killing you." She laughed.

"But we didn't!" Jimin announced proudly. "You can thank your son for that. Also...what should we call you? We never did get your name."

"Oh, right. I'm Samos. Nice to officially meet you, Jimin and Psyche."

"Samos, my man." Jimin acknowledged the name with an impressed nod and brief handshake. "That makes me want to head to Mither's town hall and request a name change. Jimos is where it's at."

"Psychos, for me." Deadpanned Psyche. "That's where it's at, if you want to get freaked out by befriending a bunch of serial killers."

"Psychos. Hmm! Has a divine ring to it." Jimin leaned into Psyche's robe, toying with the strands of fabric knotted at her hip. "I could learn to love that name..."

Psyche cleared her throat, her cheeks heating up. However, she didn't move her hand away when Jimin interlocked their fingers under the table. 

"So, Samos." She started. "You said V was pissed off about the failed raid which makes sense, because he got injured, didn't he? We saw a blood trail exiting the theater when we escaped."

"Yes...he hurt his hand pretty badly. His medical staff took care of it fast though. What really hurt was his ego after that miserable attempt. Trust me. I know V the difference between angry V and irate V. This, unfortunately, was the latter." Samos shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

Jimin winced. "Has he been...oh, never mind."

Psyche nudged him. "What? Has V been what?"

Samos and Jimin shared a knowing look.

"What am I missing here?" Psyche gazed between the two men. She reached out and tugged at the edge of Jimin's black robe. "Hello? Earth to Jimin?"

"Sex." Jimin frowned. "When V is in these pissy moods, all he wants is sex. Sex to distract him from his emotions, and sex to feel in control of things. He's fucked up like that. He takes it out on others...well, anyway."

Samos sighed. "V isn't gentle, that's for sure. I don't mean to go into the details, but-"

"He's a selfish fucker. Never lets you rest before he wants you again. Doesn't respect his boundaries and always has your body his way, in whatever position he wants, when he wants it." Jimin cracked his neck, irritated. "Ugh, I know how you feel. I feel sorry for you, Samos."

"Me too." Psyche averted her eyes from the purple man. "What awful treatment, to be regarded as nothing more than a pleasure tool for a high profile asshat!" She clenched her jaw, shaking her head vigorously. Just another reason to put V's head on a pike.

"Nothing I'm not used to." Samos shrugged. "But I don't have to deal with it anymore. My days working under him have ended...also, V is as headstrong as ever, aiming to kill one or all of you before Mither's Exhibition day. Before I left the mansion this morning, I saw him hunched over his desk, staring out the window. Without music, without a drop of alcohol in his system. Just sitting. And staring. He demanded that I leave him alone after our...session. V's never been so adamant about doing nothing before."

Jimin threaded a stressed hand through his hair. "Not a good sign."

"He's definitely not taking defeat well." Psyche added.

Jimin released Psyche's hand for a moment, pressing his hands together in thought. He stood up from his barstool to pace the kitchen. His lips wormed around in various thought processes, trying to decipher V's next move. If his thoughts were correct, V in this unhinged state might attempt to locate him in Avalon's Yard before the next performance practice...and try to injure him.

"What's on your mind?" Samos queried. "You thinking about what we should do to protect ourselves?"

Jimin's bare feet halted in their tracks. "Ah, okay, I got it. Samos, you probably shouldn't leave this mansion. I don't mean that because we want to keep Pan from you, but since you disobeyed V, he's going to sentence you to death. Deadass. You knew that before you decided to leave, right? The risks of disobeying him?"

Samos nodded mutely.

"Right. Well. You definitely have a huge target on your back now, leaving your employer so suddenly. You'll need our protection. And good news for you, we're two seasoned fighters, me and this chick here. Psyche, you have enough room to provide for Samos in your mansion, right?" 

"Plenty." Psyche also stood up. "You can sleep in the same room as Pan, or you can take the room across from him. Whatever you'd like, Samos. This place is extra spacious."

Samos beamed, shaking his head in ecstatic disbelief. "Thank you so much, Psyche. I'm very appreciative for everything you've done for Pan and myself. I owe you so, so much...how will I ever repay you?"

Psyche chucked wholeheartedly. "Oh, my. Don't worry about it. Pan has taught me a lot of important lessons since I took him in. He's quite the wise kid, if you ask me. Very sweet. You don't have to repay me anything. It was a joy to have him here. I actually...needed a bit of youth in my life."

Samos gave her the widest grin he could manage. "I haven't seen Pan since he learned to walk. He's really precious, isn't he? God, I love him so much."

Jimin glanced at Psyche, his heart warmed by the words. When she turned to look at him, he switched his gaze to the sleeping purple boy. 

"Do you want me to carry him up to his bedroom for you, Samos?" Jimin offered. "I can set him on his bed so he doesn't numb your arms. I have to get dressed for the day, anyway, and then we can discuss what we want to do moving forward. With Pan and the performance and everything."

"Of course." Samos raised the sleeping purple boy carefully off his lap. "If you would, that would be wonderful. My arms are already tingling a little."

As Jimin took Pan into his arms, Psyche rattled a few plates around on the kitchen counter. "Are you hungry? I can whip something up for you if you'd like..."

Jimin exited the room with the sleeping boy before he could hear Samos' response. Pan nuzzled into his neck as he was carried up the stairway, drooling lightly against Jimin's collarbone. Cutest boy in existence. It wasn't long before he was at the top of the stairs, cradling the purple boy and traveling to the designated room. 

Pan's curtains were still drawn despite the time of day, so it was dark inside. Jimin attempted to maneuver through the murky darkness the best he could, watching out for clumps of objects on the ground that he figured were Pan's discarded clothing. 

"Rest up, mister Pan of the clouds." Jimin whispered as he set the boy onto the mattress. Ever so delicately, he pulled the covers up and around Pan's shoulders. 

What a sweet boy he'd found that one day during his painting job! 

Even though Pan was super annoying to Jimin at first, a soft spot for the child had grown inside his heart. This purple little boy was his excuse to be around Psyche in the beginning and his reason for softening up quite a bit. Plus, he'd helped save Psyche's life during the shootout in the theatre. All the more reason for him to respect the little kid.

Jimin smiled as he exited Pan's room, pulling the door near closed so it was left open just a crack. He headed over to the master bedroom while humming a joyous tune, wondering what he would wear from Psyche's wardrobe. She wasn't big on wearing normal clothes...like ever, so he would have to dig hard in her closet to find something suitable. 

He didn't mind wearing feminine clothing, so as long as it fit him. There was no way he was going to wear booty shorts and permanently injure his dick by crushing it down. Nor would he attempt to wear tank tops with tight straps that would chafe his shoulders. No way, José. 

"Let's find something sexy..." He mumbled to himself, entering the master bedroom. It was surprisingly cold for being midday, giving him goosebumps. Hastily, he rubbed at his prickling skin, trying to relax the bumpy areas. "Chil-ly! Goodness. It's cold. She must have the AC blasting in this room or something."

Jimin took a few steps and paused. Something in the room didn't sit right with him. 

"Oh! I forgot to make the bed this morning. Damn." Jimin laughed to dispel the uncomfortable rocks that were entering his guts. "That's what it is. Well, should I make...? Eh, nah, I'll do that shit later...alligator."

He continued to giggle to himself as he made his way to the walk-in closet. Naturally, he shed the black robe as he turned the door handle. The chill in the air touched his bare stomach and and thighs, forcing an intense shiver down his spine. 

He entered the closet quickly, wanting to get this done and over with so he could spend more time with Samos and Psyche. Especially Psyche. Whenever he was around her, he felt right at home. He craved that feeling, that safety she inherently radiated. Getting dressed as fast as possible was his top priority.

The dim light from the bedroom barely allowed him a glimpse of the fashion hanging inside. He fumbled around for the light switch, his arm sliding blindly along the side wall. Where was it?

"Where are you, motherfucker?" Jimin's hand moved erratically, searching for any source of light. Somewhere in this darkness there had to be something to illuminate his surroundings. "Where are you, you motherfuckin' light switch of the devil?" 

His hand slid around more. "God! Where do they put these things? Up the closet's ass, where I won't find it? How am I supposed to find you? Where in the name of Psyche are you?"

"Right here."

A deep male voice intercepted his question. 

The closet door slammed shut with a thud. Total darkness surrounded him.

Before Jimin could react, a large hand wrapped around his mouth from behind. 

"Mmm!"

An ice cold ring of metal pressed harshly into his temple. A clothed body pressed against his bare back, and by the slightly coarse material, Jimin could tell it was a suit. Faint wafts of alcohol brushed against his nostrils. Jimin could recognize that scent anywhere, on any day, during any occasion. It was the spicy tinge of a Bloody Mary. A Bloody Mary on the rocks...with extra ice.

Jimin's heart dropped into his stomach. 

The window. That's why the room was cold. He got in through the window.

"No words, not even a peep, or this bullet goes straight through your skull." V rasped, tightening his grip around Jimin's waist. V's fingernails dug painfully into the patch of skin above the waistband of Jimin's boxers. "I'm going to remove my hand now. I'm not giving any second or third chances for poor behavior, Jimin. You follow my rules or die today."

Jimin nodded against his will, breathing heavily through his nostrils. If V was already inside of Psyche's mansion unnoticed, there was no use disobeying him now. He had a loaded gun pointed on Jimin with the intent to kill, and he was butthurt from the first time he lost to Booboo at the theatre. Those two things mixed meant bad news. 

Very, very bad news.

V slowly removed his hand from Jimin's mouth. The gun wavered not one bit. In fact, it pressed harder into Jimin's temple, drawing a pained hiss of air from his gritted teeth.

"Oh, am I hurting you, my poor daffodil? Good." V whispered malevolently, his breath fanning against Jimin's earlobes. 

The choice of language was so unlike V's normally intellectual eloquence that Jimin felt off-kilter. Was this a part of V's plan? To disorient Jimin before he used him as a bargaining tool to kill Psyche? Hundreds of possibilities flung before Jimin's thought cogs. He knew he could get out of this...but how? V was far from stupid. There was no way he could outsmart V with tactics or small talk.

But Jimin knew one thing, and it was that lust and logic weren't codependent. Emotional drives didn't operate with practical ones.

"You've been hanging around Psyche. You fucking slut. You think she has something I don't? You think you've lucked out with that bitch?" V's slanderous mode of speech was heavily tinged with something Jimin couldn't place. It scared him, frankly, since V was always so controlled. "Huh? Speak up." The gun pressed harder into his skin.

"No." Jimin barely spoke, worried any loud volume might upset V.

"No? Hah. No?" V moved the hand on Jimin's stomach lower and lower, peeling the boxers down his thighs. Jimin stiffened, biting his lip. He knew it would come to this, to these carnal desires. V was troubled beyond repair, his sexual drive included. "You're such a liar. I know when you're lying, Jimin."

"I'm not lying." Jimin forced himself to speak up. "Psyche means nothing to me. I'm just using her for the moment."

V's hand froze on Jimin's hip bone. The gun didn't budge. "Using her? Please. Your acting skills are sub-par. Your heartrate proves it. You like her, you fucking whore."

Jimin tried to maintain his composure. V might detect his lies about liking Psyche...but V's ego might accept lies about rekindling their lost relationship. There was nothing more powerful than flattery, nothing more base than infatuation, nothing more potent than sexual interest. Maybe if Jimin could use unpredictability to his advantage, he might switch their roles and get ahold of the gun.

Then he could kill V once and for all.

"V...can I..." Jimin started, praying that this worked. "Can-"

"Hey, Jimin?" Psyche's voice quietly wove up the staircase and into their room. It was hushed, as if careful to not awaken Pan. "Jimin! I don't want to wake Pan up, but could you grab my katana for me on your way down?"

V clutched his side so tightly, his fingernails punctured through the skin. Jimin whimpered.

"Answer her normally. No funny moves." V ordered quietly. "I will shoot."

Jimin nodded in the darkness, slightly raising his voice. "Sure thing! I'll grab it!" He paused, gripped by a sudden idea. "Wait, where is it?"

"In the closet!" She called. Then- "Thanks, Jimin!"

"No problem!" Jimin forced his voice not to shake. Had Psyche sensed the edge to his voice? He hoped not. He couldn't afford to have Psyche up here. V would kill her instantly. But now he knew where the katana was...

"You aren't getting the katana." V purposely stepped on his foot, twisting the heel of his shoe into Jimin's skin. "Don't think about it."

"Agh..." Jimin winced, unintentionally hunching over as he did so. V groaned as Jimin's ass not so subtly pressed against him. The reaction sparked Jimin's impromptu plan. "V...V...I need you to-"

"I won't do anything you-"

"Touch me." Jimin breathed airily, hating every part of his plan. But he had to tough it out. "V...I want you."

Silence pervaded the closet. 

V's frozen body pressed against his back was the only thing he could feel, other than the steady hammering of his heart. Each individual letter of his LOVE tattoo pulsed and stung on his cheek, reminding him of who he was messing with.

"Whatever you're trying to do..." V's abrasive tone had bent a tad. It was quieter by a fraction. Even the gun's steady presence felt lighter on his temple. Jimin held out hope. "It won't work. I'm not that gullible-"

"V." Jimin arched his back, hoping to play with his ex's fantasies. "Please. I need you in me, like old times. Please touch me."

The gun shook against Jimin's temple. V's hand jerked Jimin's boxers all the way down with a flick of the wrist, so fast that Jimin hardly knew what was happening. In the darkness he couldn't see or predict anything that would happen. Soon, his naked body was turned around by strong hands.

"Mouth open." V demanded, groping around Jimin's chin. When he found Jimin's lips with his fingertips, he shoved a finger inside his mouth. "Suck." He ordered.

Jimin did as he was told, glad that the lights weren't on. He wasn't sure if he would be able to do this without gagging if he got a look at the insanity in V's irises. Kind was the darkness, in that sense.

"I still don't believe you're telling the truth." V rasped, fiddling with what sounded like a belt buckle. "I know what you're trying to do."

Jimin gasped as the barrel of the gun pressed into his navel. The metal was freezing and sharp, forcing yet another shiver through his system. If V shot him now, his guts would explode and create quite the mess for Psyche to find. His stomach clenched at the thought.

"V..." Jimin pleaded over the long finger prying into his mouth, wondering what he was even trying to do at this point. "I...I want to go home with you. Please don't hurt them, we can leave right away. I'll come home with you. I want to."

"Lies." V whispered. "Still trying to protect the others? You're useless. You always hated that place. Stop pretending."

The gun trailed lower down Jimin's naked body, resting dangerously close to his genitals. Jimin heard the sound of pants falling to the ground. The finger was removed from his mouth.

"Listen, I'm sorry. I just don't want to admit..." Jimin trailed off, unsure of what to say. What was he doing, trying to stall? V had a gun and Psyche had nothing. They were all going to die. "I...I can't..."

V stiffened. By the heavy scent of alcohol fanning against his nose, V's face had to be pretty close to his.

"Say it." V pushed the gun into his hipbone.

"I'm trying to make you jealous. With Psyche." After speaking the words aloud, Jimin realized the partial truth in them. "I...I like to see you angry. You're really sexy when you're angry."

V said nothing.

"And..." Jimin forced himself to go on. "And I've been aching to be fucked by you. And I think about us a lot. And I really miss..."

V waited for him to go on. Jimin couldn't tell what was going on in his mind.

"I miss the...the times we had together." Jimin sputtered, realizing with dawning horror that he meant most of what he was saying. "V, I still want you. I've never stopped wanting you."

Silence.

Jimin held his breath, waiting for a response. He felt guilt sitting lowly in his guts, stirring shame into his heart. What was he doing? Why did parts of what he said ring true for him? Didn't he want to kill V?

"I see..." The tone of V's voice was unplaceable. Jimin couldn't decipher if V was pleased or pissed to hear all that from Jimin. "In that case, I'll just have to..."

V closed the gap between them.

Hot, desperate lips pressed against his.

V's kissing was violent, greedy. Dominating lips overlapped his mouth as if searching for something deep inside Jimin. One of V's hands slid to cup Jimin's bare ass, squeezing it aggressively. He rushed to replace the gun pointing at Jimin's dick with his body, grinding himself against Jimin's front half. Unintentionally, Jimin released a throaty groan.

"Fuck, Jimin." V forced himself forward, reattaching their lips and bucking his boxers against Jimin's bare body.

The air between them was growing thick and hot, affecting Jimin's ability to think. The stuffiness added to the inner turmoil of his mind, fighting against the touches while his body accepted them readily. 

V's grip was unrelenting as he pushed Jimin down to the ground, pinning him to the carpeting with his knees against Jimin's hips. Jimin released a shaky breath of air as V grabbed his partially hard shaft predatorily, leaning over to connect their lips again and again. V's suit cuffs brushed against his nipples and had him feeling too many things at once. 

Was this the right way to go? Would having sex with V give him the opportunity to grab the gun? Where was the gun? Why was his body reacting to V's harsh ministrations?

Why was he letting this happen?

"Jimin...ahh..." V rolled his hips down onto the elder, burying his teeth into the reddened skin of Jimin's neck. As he bit and licked and humped Jimin's panicking body, the gun was no where to be felt. Or seen. In the pitch-black of the closet, Jimin could barely tell where the ceiling was or where V began. "You reek of her, you fucking slut."

Jimin ignored the name, focusing instead on the faint, tinkling sound of metal as his lips meshed against V's. If he could only place the gun's location...

"Oh!" Jimin gasped as V's finger prodded inhumanely at his entrance. "Ow, V, don't rush it-"

"My rules." V shoved his finger in, grinding himself against Jimin. The burning, stretching sensation of the movement made tears prickle in Jimin's eyes. "My rules for your body, love."

"Mgh..." Jimin's body responded to V's hand stroking his base and the finger wiggling inside him. He couldn't help it. He wished he could, but his body didn't work that way. "V, sl-slow down..."

Jimin felt the weight on him let up for a moment... only for it to come back down. This time, V had slithered out of his own boxers and was bare against his lower half. Additionally, a cruel hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air supply. V groaned, clearly enjoying himself. Short, airy chuckles left his lips as he did what he wanted with Jimin's body.

Jimin felt his insides coil in mortification as he felt V line himself up at his entrance. He'd barely even prepped Jimin, continued to deprive him of oxygen by choking him, and was gloating in it. This was how heartless and selfish his ex could be...

So why was he allowing it?

"V..." He tried to clench his thighs together to prevent the fucker from entering him. "V, k-kiss me."

"Hmm?" V leaned down again, removing the hand on Jimin's throat to connect their lips. Jimin made sure to deepen the kiss, using his tongue passionately to distract V from his roaming hands. He bit down lightly on V's lower lip, dragging the skin towards him. V moaned as Jimin bucked his hips up a few times.

Meanwhile, Jimin's hand slowly searched the carpet for the gun. He breathed extra heavily to cover up any noises that his hand made. It was difficult to keep V's attention attached to him while his hand hunted around, but his lust was convincing. His hips' raunchy movements were driving V insane, allowing him to feel around in greater capacity. The gun had to be located somewhere around V's pants...

"Jimin." V popped his lips off Jimin's wet mouth and chuckled. "I missed you, love."

First it was slut, then it was love? V's nicknames for him were as messy as his overwhelming libido.  Jimin swallowed as V's grip on his body suddenly softened. Relaxed. Even caressed him, like he used to occasionally in the past.

Jimin licked his lips nervously. "You...missed me? I thought you wanted me dead."

"I do want you dead." V hummed against his throat, licking a stripe down the side of his jaw. Chastely, he pressed his lips against Jimin's. "But I also don't. That's what you do to me. You belong at the mansion, love. Right next to my side. You belong with me."

Jimin cringed big time. It was lucky for him that V couldn't see his face. V's sudden switch from dominating asshole to strangely endearing ex boyfriend caught him for a spin. His fingertips brushed against the edge of what felt like suit pants, but he couldn't feel any gun. He just needed the gun, needed to kill V. Not sympathize with his psychotic moods.

"V, I would come back, but...h-hey don't, mggh..." Between his legs, V had thrusted into him without warning. It hurt like a motherfucker, and he unconsciously pushed at V's chest while he stretched open.

"Mmm...feels nice to be in you again." V purred, pushing Jimin's bent legs up against his chest so he could gain better access. Jimin was still hurting from the first thrust when V picked up his pace to a steady rhythm. "Oh...my love..."

At this point, Jimin's lower half ached so badly he thought V might as well kill him with the gun, to put him out of his misery. Then he remembered Psyche downstairs and Pan in the room next door, and his resolve came back full force. An idea bloomed in his head.

"V...aghh...V..." He mumbled between thrusts. "Want the lights on...want to see you...in me..."

V continued pulsing his hips without pause. Jimin felt odd knots build in his lower guts. He realized they were from pleasure instead of pain, and felt extra guilty. He tried not to think of Psyche, shoved those thoughts away from his mind.

"V...lights...on."

The nerdwang wasn't listening to him.

"Hey..." Jimin reached out for V's arms, squeezed them, shook them. His hands were quickly slapped away. Jimin figured it was all or nothing at this point. There was no way he was going to let V bring him to orgasm. That would humiliate him for the rest of his life. "I need the lights on...Taehyung."

Voodoo froze inside of Booboo.

"What did you say?" He gritted in disbelief.

As Jimin opened his mouth to speak, a noise from outside the closet made him swallow the words. 

"Hey...hey, Jimin?"

It was Pan.

V placed a palm over Jimin's mouth.

"Hey, are you getting dressed? I just woke up and I had a weird dream that my dad came back to visit me. Also, V was there too, and he was trying to kill us...and, isn't that weird? Jimin, where are you?"

The closet's door knob jingled. V hurried to roll off of Jimin. Both of them fumbled around in the dark, and Jimin's heart rate skyrocketed.

Jimin stiffened. "Pan! Don't come in! I'm naked!" He panicked, worried that V would pounce and throttle the boy if he had the chance. "Don't, don't come in! I'll be out soon, I'll-"

The closet door opened. 

"What? I can barely hear you, Jimin. Where are you?" 

Weak light from the bedroom flooded into the closet. In the milliseconds that Pan appeared and asked the question, Jimin caught a weak glimmer of metal by the doorframe. 

Apparently, V did too. Both of them lunged at the same time for the object, and Pan shrieked at the presence of another naked man inside the closet. It all happened so fast that when Jimin clenched his hand around the gun, he wasn't sure if he was imagining the weight of the weapon in his palm. Pan proceeded to step back in horror, holding his hands against his heart.

"This is what you get-" Jimin spun around, pointing the barrel at V's head. "For invading my home! Lights out, Taehyung!"

The last mental image Jimin caught of Kim Taehyung was a look of the utmost shock paling his sunken cheeks. His long, messy bangs formed a moody contrast against the sternness in his swollen lips. His black eyes stared heartlessly through Jimin, revealing a glimpse of both hatred and fear from the sabotage. 

For a moment, Jimin reflected that even though he hated this man with everything in him, V was still undoubtedly handsome, and still held a piece of his troubled past in his heart. But that past was over. 

Jimin was ready to move on.

He pulled the trigger.

The closet filled with a startling sound, one so terrifying that Pan released an impassioned scream and tossed his hands in the air. Jimin's hand shook on the gun, not expecting the deed to play out so gruesomely. He sat there wide-eyed and gaping, staring down the scope of the weapon meant to fell his worst enemy.

Kim Taehyung was curled on the floor. His still eyes were open, staring. From his open mouth outpoured a disturbing strand of bitter laughter.

The gun had clicked.

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izzizz thoughts

wow hello.

i love chocolate. and i love smiling. i think i need to smile more.

also, i love clouds, and did you know something? the sky in greek mythology is encompassed by the titan uranus. don't you feel enlightened? whenever it rains, uranus is crying. or spitting. doesn't it make complete sense that all the earth's waterways are polluted? uranus is crying! can you imagine an anal sprinkler watering the planet's vast agricultural fields? how unhygienic.

hehe. 

(side query, did you catch the bts poster easter egg in this chapter? when v sees the purple banner it's a bts band poster, btw. didn't know if you caught that with the two trapezoid thingys, but if you didn't, maybe you should develop a larger catcher's glove.) 

(:

okay, onto the goodbye section. goodbye friends. this chapter was super fun to write. i love writing scenes like this. writing scenes like this is one of my favorite pastimes, aside from dreaming and eating chocolate. well, adios amigos.

love & light,

izzy <333