#Only to have it reveal that you have nothing worth tasting on your own | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deepdarkdelights · 2 years ago

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Perfection | Jin x Reader

Pairing: Vampire Jin x Reader

Word Count: 16k

Series: (6/7) Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Breaking and Entering, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Anger Issues, Dismemberment, MC had a fear of death, MC has agoraphobia, but MC is in therapy (good for her), Jin is kind of an asshole but we love it, kind of pet-playish(?), Jin is basically a sugar daddy tbh

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

A/N: I have been working on this fic since July and I am so happy that it is finally done and you guys will be able to read it! I really hope the time this took was worth it and that the fic was worth the hype lol. It’s almost one thirty in the morning and I have a quiz so I really should be sleeping. I think this is one of my favorite installments of the series! I hope you enjoy the fic and as always I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and my comments. Ily 💜💜💜

Kim Seokjin had not only a pretty face but a brilliant mind as well.

At least, that’s what he told everyone.

If there was a singular sin that he could fully encompass it would be vanity. And the sin that he shared with nearly everyone in his “family” was that of pride: a deadly and violent mix. That blend was what led to his damnation.

He knew that he deserved only the best and nothing less, that was exactly how he had been raised when he was still human. In the late 1800s, he had been granted the privilege of being born into high-class society as the eldest son, the heir to the Kim legacy. Everything he wanted was directly at his fingertips and at his disposal. From the moment he was born he was guaranteed power, and that was something he wished to never lose.

As the heir to a luxury wine company, it was only expected that alcohol, parties, and lewd behavior were set to follow him, and he exceeded those expectations. But he was good at keeping business and pleasure as two distinctly separate functions.

And with the life he lived, it was not often that individuals met his expectations. And by individuals, he meant potential wives. Naturally, it was expected of him to marry and continue the family's legacy. But the gold spoon that he was born with in his mouth tainted the pool. No one was good enough for him and that caused much strife within the family.

He was well past the age of marrying at twenty-eight years old. He was beginning to feel the pressure his father and mother were putting on his shoulders. And, not to mention, he was well aware that he was aging. Of course, he would never admit that his looks were fading. There was not a crease in his skin or a gray hair to be plucked, but he could feel it. He could see the minute imperfections that no one else could. It made his skin crawl in disgust.

And then Kim Namjoon entered the frame and everything began to come together.

His mother had insisted on organizing yet another party to find him a wife under the guise that he was there to make several important business deals. But when the vast majority of partygoers were young women with stars in their eyes he knew what was really going on. And of course, he was not going to stick around and socialize with subpar candidates. If he were going to do that it would be restricted to his bedroom, of course.

Namjoon had come to that party that night, Yoongi in tow despite his protests. Namjoon was a cultured man, he liked to mingle with the members of high society from time to time. It helped him learn what was appropriate for the decade as trends (in manners, clothing, and amusement) came and went rapidly. And those who belonged to the upper class were those who set those trends. It was strategic and it helped his kind blend in as seamlessly as possible.

And Jin was the epitome of a high-class man.

And so, Namjoon and Yoongi befriended him. It hadn’t been hard for them, they had been around for so long that they fit right in. And Jin had merely thought he found more of the few people that could meet his high expectations - his small inner circle growing with two new additions. But of course, that friendship had started out with the purpose of using Jin for what he had.

So in turn, he used them.

While Jin had a pretty face, he actually was quite smart and observant. He took note of his companions' odd behavior. He never saw them during the daytime, only in the veil of the night. They had the oddest colored eyes - not quite black but a deep shade of burgundy like the embers of a smoldering fire laid within their depths. And they were cold, absolutely frigid to the touch like a corpse. It didn’t take him very long to piece together what they were, and it was only proven true when he caught the both of them feasting on lifeless corpses in his guest room. He timed everything just perfectly to discover their true nature.

Yoongi had seemed genuinely surprised, bloody lips parted in shock as he stood as still as a statue, the limp body still collapsed in his iron grasp.

Namjoon, on the other hand, was smiling. He too was not able to conceal his nature any longer but he wasn’t trying either. He took his time and continued to finish his meal despite the obvious living human presence in the room.

“You two have been holding out on me,” Jin said with a disappointed tone.

“Holding out?” Namjoon echoed before relaxing his arms and allowing the corpse to slip down to the floor, the thinnest drizzle of blood pooling onto the parquet flooring.

Yoongi could only stare at the both of them, his eyes darting back and forth between the two other men.

“Yes, holding out! You are immortal are you not?”

“Yes, we are, and I’m sure you’ve figured out the rest by now haven’t you?”

“You may have been able to fool all of those other halfwits but it was painfully obvious to me, of course.”

“Of course.” Namjoon nodded while trying to suppress an amused grin.

“I want in, I wish to join you and your kind.”

“No,” Yoongi immediately cut in, “You don’t know what you’re asking for, this is a curse it is not something to take lightly and flirt with the notion of.”

His tone was harsh, his face stern but there was evident pain behind his eyes. Yoongi had been forced into this life if that was what you could even call it. He couldn’t fathom someone willingly agreeing to eternal damnation and he would try his hardest to convince them otherwise.

“Are you denying me?” Jin asked, his face contorted in utter disbelief. He was never denied anything in his twenty-eight years of life and the feeling of rejection was infuriating.

“Yoongi, it’s his decision,” Namjoon interjected, his hand wiping the blood from his mouth leaving a streaky crimson trail behind.

“You’re not actually considering this, are you?” Yoongi hissed.

“What is there to consider? He’s already seen us and he knows what he wants.”

“He has no idea what he wants!”

“And why are you speaking for me? Just because you’re miserable and dissatisfied does not mean the same will be said for me!” Jin spat. “I grow tired of this human body. Every second of every day I feel myself wasting away and there is not a thing I can do about it.”

“You would throw away your humanity, your life, all in the name of vanity?” Yoongi asked in disbelief.

“And for greed as well,” Jin laughed, “Believe me, I am many things and one of them is self-aware. I am a selfish bastard and I am perfectly fine with that. I won’t allow my looks to fade and my fortune will grow as centuries pass. This is what I desire and I refuse to concede.”

He was a businessman in every aspect.

“It sounds like he’s made his choice, Yoongi.” Namjoon finally spoke.

“It sounds like he’s made an ignorant choice and I refuse to have any part in this,” Yoongi said, storming past the two of them and slamming the door shut with enough force that the mahogany wood cracked by the handle.

“So, are we going to fuck about or will you give me what I want?” Jin asked, his impatience growing.

“I consider you a good friend, Jin. I won't lie, I am pleased that you are asking this of me.” Namjoon smiled before grabbing Jin’s shoulder, “We’re all lonely children looking for a place where we belong.”

Lonely children, that was one way to put it. Namjoon was not entirely wrong. In a world where you deserved only the best, many fell short and in the end, you were painfully alone, whether you were willing to admit it or not.

“Before we go through with this, there are some things you should know.”

“What things?”

“You can’t go in the sun, not just yet, you’ll be far too young and far too sensitive to light. Quiet, dark, scentless places are going to be the best place to stay - your senses are going to be heightened tenfold. You must feed often in the early years, you’re going to be very hungry, bloodthirsty really so you need to stay away from large crowds of people.”

Jin was silent for a moment, his eyes shifting from left to right and back again as he processed everything he was told. He could manage, and he could figure out how to do all of those things while maintaining his position as an heir.

“Lastly, do not try and do this alone. In our world, there is strength in numbers as well as safety. You’ll have to stay with me and Yoongi, we will all be bound to one another as creator and creation.”

“So when you two leave…”

“You will follow.” Namjoon nodded, “We try to stay in one place for as long as we can so if it’s your family you’re worried about you’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.”

But they weren’t coming with him. As terrible as it was, that wasn’t a great enough reason to sway his decision. He still wanted what he desired and he was willing to let his family go. So he stuck out his hand, ready to shake on the agreement.

“I accept the conditions.”

~~~~~~~

Most people were afraid of spiders, some of heights, and many feared drowning. But you feared something a bit more abstract and with a bit more finality. You were afraid of aging and by association, you were incredibly afraid of death.

And that fear often leads you to do a few things. One of them was to start skincare at an absurdly young age. The other was to hermit yourself inside of your house out of fear of some horrific accident befalling you. And the other was to seek out strange and obscure places to visit before you die. It was odd that the last two coincide but they do.

There were days when you were so frightened that you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving the comfort of your bed. And then you had days where you felt daring, if you were going to die one day would you really want to have lived your only life trapped inside of your own house? There were your good days and your bad days and they came and went like the tides.

Today was a “good” day. And by good day that meant you were on your laptop scrolling through forums trying to find a new place to visit. Living in a small town was hard, you knew everyone and every place because they were so few in number. But sometimes there were locations in between towns, or hidden spots in your own. Briar Hills is an old town, a historical town even. It’s not uncommon for places to be abandoned, concrete skeletons collapsing and being devoured by the flora.

It was finding them, buried in hundreds of posts, that was difficult. The teenagers in the town had taken to reclaiming those places, turning them into party spots in the blink of an eye. But that has changed in the past few months. Ever since the first body turned up.

That was the thing about small towns, murder was much rarer than the action that cities see. So, when dozens of corpses begin to show up in streams and lakes and people begin to go missing without a trace - panic ensues. As well as a town-wide curfew.

Briar Hills turned into a ghost town after dark. The streets would be empty, lit by a few lampposts spread down the street that was easily consumed by a thick, hazy fog. Every now and then the fog would be broken by police lights, red and blue shocks of color dispersing the mist as the night patrol came around the block. It looked like something out of a horror movie.

And, if it weren’t a good day, the sight alone would be enough to keep you corralled in your room. But it was a good day and you had become stir-crazy from staying in your house for the past few weeks.

After endless scrolling there was one post in particular that caught your attention. It looked like an extravagant invitation with a satin black background and deep red embellishments. It had very little interaction and it was written in a completely different language. For something as obscure as an abandoned place in a small town you weren’t surprised that it had gone unnoticed, especially considering few people checked this forum.

Putting the text into google translate had not been insanely helpful. The translated text was jumbled and made little sense, it was one of those languages that did not thrive when it came to longer translations. But you were interested and fairly stubborn and after extended research and decoding fragmented sentences you were left with this:

“The best bite I’ve ever had,” And following that was a set of coordinates that had been written out instead of just using their numerical counterparts.

You were interested.

What could that mean? Maybe it was some hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but why all the decorum? Why the translations? Who even uses coordinates anymore? The best way to get the answers you desired was to discover them for yourself.

That’s how you ended up sneaking out of your house, dressed head to toe in dark colors, like some teenager that’s about to disappoint their parents. Except, in this case, your parents were the cops, and being grounded would equate to being detained for violating the town-wide curfew. All the more reason to not get caught.

You started to get cold feet when you realized where the set of coordinates was leading you, your body came to a fast stop when the toes of your boots met the edge of the forest. The forest, at night, with low visibility, and predators prowling was a bad move. That just screamed a sudden and violent death, not to mention the bulk of missing persons' corpses had been found within its depths. This was a stupid idea, a bad move, but it was a good day and you were too stubborn to follow reason. You would make up for it tomorrow by hiding in your bed all day. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism nonetheless.

You took a deep breath, squared your shoulders, and took a step forward. There was no going back now, you had made up your mind.

The further into the forest you trekked the quieter it became. It didn’t make sense. You were getting further from society so why was it so quiet? The wind was still, not a branch or leaf trembled, and not even a cricket dared to chirp. It was like every living creature had up and left, abandoning their home. The only sound that filled the static silence was the bubbling rush of water from the river.

You began to walk faster, your nerves urging you to get where you were going and be done with it. On top of that, your eyes were starting to play tricks on you, your brain attempting to make sense of the dark and fill in what was missing resulting in ominous shadows shifting through the trees. You were regretting your decision immensely, so you picked up the pace and began humming to yourself to fill the silence.

If you were being honest, you really had no idea what you were supposed to be looking for. The post hadn’t listed much of anything and you weren’t sure what would be at the end of the coordinates. But, the red light glowing in the distance was a sure sign of something. It grew more intense as you neared it, the light getting stronger the closer to the ground it was. When you finally pushed through the underbrush you were met with a set of concrete stairs leading down into the ground and at the very bottom was an old metal door with a faintly pulsing red light above it. Looking down at your phone you were able to verify that you had made it to where the coordinates were marked.

It was a bomb shelter. It was most likely one for the community back in the forties, an evacuation and safe point for those who didn’t have their own. It must have been abandoned and forgotten about after the war, left to rot there for the past eighty years. But if that light was anything to go by, it must have been reclaimed by someone.

You carefully stepped down the stairs, applying a little weight at a time to make sure that the concrete hadn’t eroded and wouldn’t crumble beneath you. When you reached the bottom you tried the door and to your surprise, it opened with a creak. There was a long tunnel just barely lit by candles lining the walls leaving deep shadows in between them. And now you could feel the walls thumping, steadily vibrating with a muffled bass. That meant there was another chamber somewhere.

You hesitantly traveled down the tunnel, long stretches of the floor would eventually give way to more stairs leading you deeper and deeper underground. This was a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The more you walked the harder the walls vibrated until you finally came upon another door where the sounds became the loudest. Above the door hung a purple neon sign that read: “Blood Sugar.”

Upon testing the door handle, you were surprised to find that it was unlocked, and once it slowly swung open your nose was assaulted with the scent of alcohol, sweat, and a coppery odor. You swiftly entered and closed the door behind you, trying your best not to bring too much attention to yourself. But it appears you would have no trouble doing so.

The room you had stepped into was massive, the walls were tall and rounded out at the ceiling and were made completely out of metal. But it was far from a barren, abandoned bunker. The room was packed with people, some dancing, some drinking, and others wrapped around one another on the various red velvet chaises spread around the space. The music was loud and the room was lit by antique chandeliers as well as deep purple lighting casting an ominous glow over everyone.

The bunker had been converted into a club of some sort and despite the decrepit tunnels you had slunk through to get here, it was surprisingly luxurious. You were honestly surprised the entire town hadn’t known about this place. That much was certainly true because, despite the large crowd, you could only recognize about five people you had seen before. The massive gathering was largely that of people that were not from Briar Hills.

A set of delicate hands slithered around your waist, tugging you sharply towards the stranger behind you. A shout of surprise parted your lips as you turned around, slapping the offending limbs off of you.

There was a tall woman facing you with a grin on her face, her bright white teeth glinting from behind her deep red lips. Her skin was so pale it was glowing with a purple hue from the lights, her long black curls creating an even sharper contrast against her skin. And you couldn’t explain why you felt the way you did, but the sight of those bright white teeth had your stomach twisting in knots. Despite her delicate appearance, every red flag was being raised in your body. The urge to run was strong.

“Hello, sweetheart,” She crooned, “You’re new, aren’t you?”

Something in the back of your mind demanded you lie.

“No, I’m not. If you’ll excuse me,” You said, your voice steady and cold despite the goosebumps on the back of your neck and the rapid thump of your pulse.

As you went to walk past her she easily stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, her face suddenly incredibly close as she pressed her nose to your hairline and took a deep breath. “Oh, you can’t lie to me, I remember every sweet little snack that comes in here.”

What. The. Fuck.

“Look, I’m not interested in…whatever that means,” You huffed, taking a few steps back and breaking free from her steel grasp, “I’m just here for a drink.”

“Oh?” She hummed, “So am I, I’m glad we can cut to the chase.”

“Okay?” You slowly asked before shuffling around her imposing figure, “See ya.”

You slipped into the crowd, forcing your way through the bodies in an attempt to shake her off of your trail. Anybody else in your position would have lingered for the ethereal woman, but you couldn’t ignore that feeling in the back of your mind or that tug deep in your gut. She was dangerous, and no pretty smile or sweet words could hide it. It was in times like these that your intense fear of death became present as paranoia, warning you of all potential threats.

When you started therapy you were encouraged to slowly step out of your comfort zone, to do things that would combat your anxieties. So, on good days, you try your best to succeed with these short-term goals hoping in the long run you could live normally like every other person your age. But you often found your anxiety creeping up on you and you knew after tonight you would need the rest of the week to recover and that meant avoidance which meant hiding out in your rented duplex.

But for now, you had to cope.

When you broke free from the crowd you stumbled forward, a stray limb jabbing you in the back and sending you reeling onto one of the velvet chaises. To your utter embarrassment, you landed right next to a couple that had left all of their inhibitions at the door like many other patrons of the underground club. The woman was straddling the man's thighs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, her long locks obscuring his face. Although you couldn’t see what he was doing it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the woman’s mouth opened to let out soft moans of pleasure.

Heat rushed up to your face as you stumbled off of the chaise and backed up from the voyeuristic lovers. Of course, you weren't innocent, but seeing something like that in person was different from shamelessly reading smut at three AM.

A few feet away from the couple was the bar. It was surprisingly empty for a club. The man you assumed to be the bartender behind the countertop was relaxing against it, his dark eyes scanning your awkward posture.

You swiftly approached the bar and yelled over the music, “Hi, how much is water?”

He gave you an amused chuckle before grabbing a small leather menu and sliding it over to you, “We don’t serve that here, sweetheart.”

You stared at him in confusion before flipping open the menu. The only thing listed there were various wines all costing an exorbitant amount of money, and by that, you meant at least three months' rent and that was just for a glass, not even the bottle.

“These prices are insane, are you kidding me?!”

“They’re from 1889, newbie.” He smiled, a grin identical to the woman from earlier.

“Well, this was a bust.” You groaned, the initial buzz of excitement from finding a town secret had long since faded.

“Can I offer you some advice?”

“Be my guest.”

“You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings, you’ve had eyes on you since you stepped foot in this place.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you peered over your shoulder. Sure enough, there were a few dark eyes staring back at you - but there was one pair in particular that really caught your attention. There was a man in a roped-off section of the club, a velvet curtain drawn to the side to reveal him seated on an ornate chair. He looked like a king watching over his people, and you meant that not only because of his position but because of his features as well. It was undeniable that he was the most attractive person in the room, hell, the most attractive person you had ever seen. Smooth pale skin, plush lips in a permanent pout, dark eyes, and the widest set of shoulders with a slender waist. He was a work of art. He had this look on his pretty features as if he had just tasted something bitter, and that look was directed behind you.

“If I were you, I would get out of here. Things get crazy with fresh blood, ya know? The people here are like sharks in the water.” The bartender said, regaining your attention. “Uh oh, looks like you got one on your trail.”

You followed his and the pretty stranger’s gaze behind you. It was her again, the woman from earlier. She was slipping through the ocean of moving bodies with ease, her gait like that of a jaguar on the prowl as she approached. You watched as her polished fingers wiped away what looked like stray lipstick from beneath her lips.

Without thinking you darted away from the bar and past the pretty man, rushing through the first door you found which turned out to be the bathroom. Once the door fell shut you felt like you could relax for a moment. The music was muffled allowing you to think coherently for the first time since you had entered the bunker. Everything had become far too stimulating and you could feel your anxiety rising.

You leaned against the sink, turning the water on ice cold before splashing your face so that you could shock yourself back into clarity. You allowed yourself to brace the sink and relax your body, focusing on your breathing and grounding yourself before you lost control, just the way you were taught to.

The feeling of ice-cold fingers on your shoulders threw all of your work away.

You yelped and flinched, your eyes flying open to see her standing behind you in the reflection of the mirror.

“I knew you were a shy little thing, you should have just told me you wanted to do this privately.” She sighed with a sickeningly sweet smile.

In a moment of flight, fight, or freeze your body chose for you, your legs running without you telling them to do so. You didn’t make it far, not before she grabbed hold of you and threw you up against the wall. Your head hit the tile behind you so hard you saw stars.

“I’ve been hunting you down all night, you’ve made me build up quite the appetite. Do you know how many others I’ve had to threaten to get to you? Everyone always wants to take someone’s first bite.”

What the fuck was she talking about?

“While it was cute at first, we've played this game for long enough, don’t you think?”

“Let go of me!” You yelled while grabbing her wrists and trying to pry her hands off of you. To your complete and utter shock, she didn’t move an inch, it was like her bones were made of iron - immovable and inflexible.

“Now, now, don’t go throwing a tantrum that won’t get you anywhere.” She sighed, sliding her hand up your shoulder to wrap around your throat and squeeze.

Your throat and lungs burned as her grip slowly increased its pressure, your eyes watering as broken gasps and chokes for air gurgled past your lips.

“There there, much better.” She whispered into your ear as she released your throat, your body going limp as you gasped for air.

She easily gathered you up into her arms and softly tilted your head to the side, her perfectly polished nails grazing over the stretch of skin as she hummed before pressing her cherry-red lips to your throat.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel a slight pinch.” She joked before her jaw widened and a demonic hiss left her throat as her teeth grazed the soft flesh of your vulnerable neck.

But before she could sink her teeth in she was harshly ripped away from you, her perfect face slammed so hard into the bathroom wall that the tiles shattered upon impact. A loud cry of pain echoed throughout the room as she pulled herself from the wall, black blood was pouring from her crooked nose and her sliced lips.

Behind her stood the stranger from before, a miffed and frankly disgusted expression marred his stunning features.

“What the fuck, Jin?!” She screamed, cupping her injured face.

“She’s not a fang banger, Junghee.”

Her once flawless features froze in shock as a look of horror crawled over her face. It was the look of someone who realized that they had made a horrible mistake.

“You’ve really fucked up this time.” He growled in irritation, a genuine growl that had your skin crawling.

“Well, how was I supposed to know?! What is she even doing here?!”

“That’s none of your concern anymore, get the fuck out!” He yelled, ripping the bathroom door open and throwing her out of the room.

You stayed pressed up against the wall out of pure terror. Vampires, you had walked into a fucking nest of vampires and had the closest brush with death you’ve ever had in your entire life. Your gaze remained locked on the vampire, Jin, as he calmed down; the waves of his rage slowly dissipating. In this lighting, you could finally see what you hadn’t been able to before in the dim club. Under the fluorescent lights, his eyes gleamed a vibrant, intimidating red.

You winced in fright as he took a step in your direction, your body attempting to meld into the wall behind you. Jin raised his eyebrow in questioning, taken aback by your apprehension. It wasn’t often he had humans cowering in fear, usually, they shook from…something else.

“Enough of that, come along human.” He snapped, grabbing you by your sleeve and easily dragging you from the room despite your protests and your heels digging into the ground. He was pulling you as if you weighed nothing.

“Let go!” You shrieked in terror, struggling against his hold with all of your might.

He came to a sudden halt, gripping you by your shoulder and pulling your body so close that there was barely an inch of space left between his chest and your own.

“Don’t you think you’ve drawn enough attention to yourself tonight?”

You peered over your shoulder, and sure enough, there were several of his kind watching the two of you from the dance floor. Their stares were curious and hungry. Unconsciously you shifted closer to him, choosing the lesser of two evils, one vampire versus many.

“Look at that you’re smart, for a human.” He snickered before guiding you back to the curtained area you had seen him sitting in before Junghee had cornered you in the bathroom.

“Sit, stay.” He said with a smirk as he pressed you down by your shoulder onto one of the couches before gesturing for someone to close the thick curtains.

“Look, I just want to go home. I won’t breathe a word about what happened here or what this place is, it was a mistake coming here.”

“A mistake indeed, but a mistake that needs correcting nonetheless,” Jin said with a distressed roll of his (impressive) shoulders. “So, tell me human, how did you find this place?”

You sat there in silence for a moment, your face the perfect image of confusion, “Are you being serious right now?”

“I don’t recall telling a joke.”

“You - there was a post online, on a forum? Anyone could have found it if they were looking close enough, it really wasn’t that hard to find. All I had to do was translate the text and it told me where to go.”

“A…forum?” He repeated, clearly confused.

Dear God, he was an old-ass vampire who didn't know much about technology or even the internet. He didn’t even know he had advertised the place. He was just an old man in a young man’s body.

“You know, a forum, it’s online, it's where people who want to discuss a certain topic go to. I was looking for obscure places, abandoned buildings, and lesser-known spots in town. I found the posting for this place and it just said ‘The best bite I’ve ever had’...I didn’t know it meant literally.” You said, your nerves leading you to ramble on and on.

Jin’s eyes pressed shut, his face contorting in anger as a hiss parted his lips, “Jimin.”

Jimin and himself were the only two vampires in their coven that knew about the club Jin hosted. Jin had been careless one night and Jimin had followed him, discovering the secret he had kept well hidden. Jin bought Jimin’s silence initially with limited access to the place, but now he was regretting every interaction he had had with the short vampire.

One of the few times Jin had found himself getting on with said vampire had led him to express his annoyance with the lack of human stock for the club. In turn, Jimin had offered to help “advertise” in exchange for unrestricted access to the club.

Now that he had figured out how the little human had snuck her way in, he had to decide what to do with her. He could always kill her, that would be the simple answer. He could drain her dry and snap her pretty neck in an instant. But that wasn’t really his style, he typically preferred to savor his meals unlike his gorger of a “brother”, Jungkook.

Perhaps the human could serve a purpose for him.

“Come, human.” He beckoned with his fingers.

You remained frozen in your seat, your body still in active survival mode keeping your joints locked.

Jin sighed, clearly miffed by your disobedience. He rose from his own seat only to cross the room and sit next to you. His long fingers gripped your chin and jerked your head up, forcing you to look at him. His hold was ice cold, the chill from his touch steadily seeping into your jaw. You felt paralyzed by his intimidating crimson gaze. His eyes flicked quickly over your features as he turned your head from side to side, taking in your every pore.

“Not bad, for a human. Don’t feel too offended, it’s difficult to look as flawless as myself.” He said with a casual tone as if he were merely stating a fact.

“You look pretty average to me,” You blurted out the lie, your lips moving before your brain could stop you from verbalizing.

It was so fast you almost couldn't see it but it was there, his left eye twitched and his grip tightened forcing a slight whine of pain from you. He roughly jerked your head to the side, choosing to ignore what you said despite how much it clearly bothered him. Instead, he trained his focus on your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt down past your collarbone.

“Smooth,” He observed, his icy touch skipping over the skin of your throat, “Junghee didn’t sink her dirty fangs in you after all, that’s good.”

Without warning he leaned down, his nose skimming over your neck as he breathed in, flooding himself with your scent. His grip tightened as you yelped and tried to jerk away from him in fear that this time you would surely die at the hands of a mythical creature, a monster in the flesh.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt his plump lips brush your throat, his cool breath fanning over the skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. His actions were reminiscent of a wine connoisseur, the way they studied the body of the wine and the aroma. He was assessing you - attempting to decide if you would make a good meal, that you were certain of.

You jerked as you felt him bury his face further into your neck. You could feel the slight flutter of his eyelashes against your skin as a groan parted his lips.

“Well, don’t you smell delicious?” He crooned, his tongue swiping over his lips and just barely ghosting over your throat. “I think that we can come to an agreement, does that sound nice?”

“What,” You paused to clear your throat, “what did you have in mind?”

“I’m glad you asked,” He said with a wink after pulling back from you, “You see, I think we could mutually benefit from one another’s company. While breaking your pretty little neck would certainly be the easiest way out of this problem, I do find you quite amusing, pet.”

Your body grew stiff as your mind conjured up the image of his strong hands severing your vertebrate in one smooth pull, your body falling limp and lifeless on the club’s floor. Your greatest fear was death and Jin was death incarnate. He could very easily take your life if he so desired and he was making that very clear. He cared not whether you lived or died but only if your presence benefitted him in some manner. Your life was inconsequential.

“Very few people meet my standards but you are very lucky, I have a rather refined palette and it just so happens you meet said standards. So, I would like to propose a business arrangement. You will be my sole donor and keep those pretty lips sealed about everything you have witnessed tonight and in turn, you get to keep your life.”

“And if I don’t agree?” You dared to ask.

A sneer marred his perfect face, his fingers gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him in his blood-red eyes.

“Then your pathetic human life ends right here, right now.” He said, his hand slipping down your jaw to loosely wrap around your throat. He could feel your pulse steadily thumping against his hand causing his mouth to involuntarily pool with saliva, hunger twisting in his gut.

Your breath hitched, fear slicing down your spine like a violent chill. You knew you only had one choice, and that was to appease the monster that sat beside you because he was far less frightening than the unknown, than the certain embrace of death that waited at every corner.

When fear rules your life, you have no choice. There is only ever one option.

“I agree,” Your voice trembled as you swallowed uncomfortably under his grasp. “I’ll be your donor.”

“Splendid.” He said with a grin, his canines glinting under the light.

“Can I…can I please go home now?” You asked, clasping your trembling hands together to try and still their shaking.

“No, there are a few more fine details we have to iron out,” He said, his index finger lightly tapping your chin, “Firstly, I expect you to maintain a healthy lifestyle and that means no alcohol within a twenty-four hour period before we meet and certainly no smoking it’s a dirty and disgusting habit.”

You nodded slowly, trying your best to avoid looking into his piercing red gaze.

“Try your best to have a healthy diet as well, the junk you humans gorge yourselves on taints your flavor, it’s unbearably sweet.” He said with a wrinkle of his nose in disgust. “I will compensate you for your efforts and your donations, once I’ve deemed you satisfactory, of course,”

“I think that about covers it. And when I call upon you I expect your presence. Do we understand one another?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

Your throat was far too tight, your eyes burning with unshed tears as you weakly nodded in agreement.

“Very good,” He hummed before leaning back into the couch and soundly tapping the top of his thigh, “come, pet.”

You sat still, your body frozen in shock as you were unsure if you had heard him correctly.

“Well?” He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

“I…I don’t think that, um-”

“Are you going to keep babbling and test my patience, or are you going to be a good little pet and do as I say?” He interjected and immediately you remembered the phantom feeling of his hand on your throat, the light grip that screamed threat.

You awkwardly shuffled on your knees across the couch and hesitantly settled your legs on either side of him, hovering so that your weight did not rest on his lap. In response, he firmly gripped your hips and harshly pulled you down onto him, pressing you directly against him in a way that sent heat rushing beneath your skin despite the evident chill that emanated from his body.

You could see his fangs even clearer now. They had become longer than before, the sharpened points dragging along the flushed skin of his plump lower lip. You were terrified by the thought of them piercing your thin flesh. What if they punctured your jugular and you bled out to death? What if he had just been playing with his food this entire time, instilling a false hope of survival in you just to watch with murderous glee as you realized you were meant to die the entire time as he drained the life out of you?

And then what? The void of inevitable nothingness? The abyss of the afterlife? You were spiraling now, you could feel it in the way your chest constricted and your breaths came out in panicked, short huffs.

A soft, wet, stroke against your throat pulled you from your frightening thoughts. As your vision cleared you realized that he had settled back into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his tongue gently and steadily lapping at your skin. Despite your embarrassment, you could feel your body slowly relaxing and melting against him. It felt like you were being shot up with a tranquilizer, your muscles going weak from his ministrations as the skin of your neck went numb.

And within seconds his fangs were sinking through your flesh, easy and smooth. You jolted in response, a cry of pain leaving you as your fingers curled into the silk of his shirt while your body subconsciously leaned away, trying to escape the sudden painful stimulus.

In response, you could feel Jin’s arms tighten around your back and harshly pull you flat against his chest with an animalistic growl, one that immediately paralyzed you with fear.

The vampire beneath you was enraptured, completely lost in the feeding frenzy as rivers of blood flowed freely past his plump lips and poured down his throat. Your scent had been seductive, but your taste? It was better than any wine, better than ambrosia and nectar, it was addictive. So addictive he was unsure if he would be able to stop but at the same time aware he could not kill you because the rest of his immortal existence would be utter hell if he were unable to get another hit.

Kim Seokjin had a refined palette and high standards and few people met his expectations. But you? You were complete and utter perfection. And he deserved perfection.

His grip was too hard, unrelenting, crushing you against him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he cracked your spine by accident. It was like he was afraid to release you, afraid that there was a chance you would be able to escape him, the apex predator.

But these thoughts were all uselessly whimpered in the back of your mind because the rest of your brain was completely flooded with euphoria. You had never felt so warm and tingly despite his cool hands in your entire life. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, the only thing keeping you grounded in existence was his tight hold. And there were other feelings as well, feelings you would have been ashamed of had your inhibitions not completely disappeared. Feelings that had your thighs clenching on either side of his waist, your heart beating pathetically fast, your pupils dilating, and your limp body helplessly rocking against him with his hands guiding and encouraging you.

This was completely out of character for you. You didn’t climb into random men's laps and writhe against them eagerly like you were in heat. That had never been who you were, but the position you were in now clearly said otherwise.

You were growing lightheaded, not only from arousal and euphoria but from blood loss as well. You weakly pushed at his chest, your innate desire to survive prevailing over the pleasure that had relaxed your muscles.

“Jin, please,” You whimpered, struggling to speak.

The vampire didn’t respond or relent, his arms still wrapped around you like a vice. In desperation you wound your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling into his hair and tugging at the roots. The pull certainly took him off guard, his fangs sliding free from your throat and his perfect lips parting to release a startled moan.

His eyes were half-lidded but his red irises still burned brightly under the dim lighting, a perfect match for the blood that stained his lips and chin. He said nothing at that moment and from what very little you knew about him you could conclude that it was not often that he was at a loss for words.

Warmth trickled down your neck, rivulets of blood still flowing freely now without him there to catch them and that seemed to snap him back to attention. He slowly leaned forward, maintaining eye contact with you until he was level with your throat once more, his tongue darting out to lick up the trails of blood before tracing over the puncture wounds he had left behind.

Your hold on his shoulders did nothing to dissuade him, in fact, he quite enjoyed your weak attempts to keep him at an arm's length. Humans were so fragile, so weak, and he enjoyed that.

“Relax,” He breathed, “We have a deal, remember? It would be a waste to drain you dry in one night.”

“And how do I know you don’t just like to play with your food?” You asked.

“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it, pet.” He smirked, tapping your chin with his finger.

“You’re not going to kill me?”

“Let’s just say your sample was more than satisfactory, I have no reason to take back my word just yet.”

Yet. And yet, he was actually letting you go.

“I’ll see to it that you make it home safely,” He began. But before he could finish speaking you were eagerly sliding off of his lap.

His hands caught your waist easily, one holding you steady and the other firmly grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger forcing you to look him in his eyes.

“Remember, I call, you answer. As long as you abide by my rules we won’t have a problem.”

You nodded quickly, his words barely registering in your brain as your body took control. You would agree to anything that would keep you alive.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

~~~~~~

Days had passed since that night at Blood Sugar, days where Jin had not tried to contact you, days that you spent isolated in your house - a wave of agoraphobia so strong that the thought of passing a threshold frightened you to the bone which was beyond ironic considering your situation. But those days also led to you trying to convince yourself it had all been a bad dream.

If the encounter at Blood Sugar had in fact been real, you had little to show for it. The skin of your throat was smooth and untouched despite the fangs that you were certain had torn through it like paper. The only parting gift you had was the urge to sleep for days, a splitting headache, and a touch of soreness around your ribs where you were sure his arms had once restrained you.

Pretending it hadn’t happened was easier on your mind. Your whole world had been turned upside down and the monsters you once thought to be the stuff of stories had been pulled from the shadows and abruptly thrust into the light. It was easier to pretend it was a dream. But you couldn’t shake those blood-red eyes from your memories nor the show of pure strength that had been demonstrated against Junghee - her once perfect face that was so easily disfigured by the elder vampire.

You were afraid of death and the realization that it actually lurked at every eerie corner and you had sat in its lap like a contented house cat was enough to fry the connections in your brain.

And you could only pretend for so long. You could only ignore reality for so long.

It had been three weeks since you had seen him when he finally confirmed his existence in the form of a simple text.

“Hungry, you know where to find me.”

And that made your blood run cold. It was time to finally face reality, you had actually made a deal with a vampire and now he was cashing in on your promise. It was donate or die.

And in an absolute panic, you made a terrible decision. You placed your phone face down and retreated beneath your blankets like a small child hiding from the boogeyman.

Your phone did not cease to remind you that you had made a bad decision. The messages started sporadically - spread out throughout the hour. But Jin’s impatience grew as did the texts and calls. The eerie silence of your bedroom filled with a continuous buzzing as your phone continued to vibrate until you couldn’t take it anymore and without looking at a single message you shut down your phone. But that only brought temporary relief.

You were begrudgingly pulled from the safety of your bed that day for an inspection your landlord had scheduled two days prior. There was no getting out of it and in your mind, it was a welcome distraction from the spiraling anxiety you felt when you thought about your powered-down phone.

You had no way of knowing that their presence would only worsen the problem that you had created.

You were generally a quiet person that kept to yourself around strangers, especially strangers that had a say in whether you continued living in your home or not. You practically stuck yourself to the walls as she inspected your home, and while your landlord was not necessarily a mean woman she wasn’t very chatty. You two got along in those regards.

You were able to breathe when she gave you an awkward, tight-lipped smile, waved, and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone you rushed back into your bedroom and just barely pulled your curtains aside to peer out your window and watch her retreat. But when you did look out that window you felt your blood run cold. She was still there, standing on the walkway, and directly in front of her was him. It was twilight out, the sun still desperately trying to cling to a purple and ochre colored sky. It was safe for him to be out. He was giving her a charming smile, one that anyone would fall over at the sight of. You could see him laugh and then say a few words but you were too far away to make out what they were. And then to your utmost horror, she walked away and he made his way up the front steps.

You were frozen, your muscles tense, and refused to move. You held your breath as you listened. There was no way that he could get in, you hadn’t given him permission. But all of your hope washed out of you when you heard the front door’s knob turn and the soft click of it leaving the frame. There were a few light steps and then the door shut once more.

He was inside the house.

You felt absolutely helpless as all you could do was wait for him to find you. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you were cornered.

It was only a matter of seconds before he did find you, a stern and angry expression clear on his face as he rounded the banister and the stairs and stood right outside the door frame of your room. His eyes were different now, they weren’t the vibrant red that you remembered. They were a deep burgundy now, almost black as they stared back at you with intensity. You couldn’t even make out the difference between his pupils and his irises. It was a bottomless, dark gaze.

“How did you get in?” You asked, the words rushing out of you to your own surprise.

One of his dark brows quirked, whether it was in surprise or irritation you did not know.

“Elaine let me in,” He said with a stomach-turning grin.

Your landlord. She technically owned the house, she could let him in even if you didn’t invite him.

“I thought I made myself clear when we spoke, did I not?” He asked rhetorically, “I call, you answer, I feed, you keep your life. What part of that did your little human brain not comprehend?”

“You called me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

“My phone died-”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” He snapped, his voice shockingly loud and incomposed.

You flinched back against the wall as he finally entered your room only to stop dead in his tracks not more than five feet away. His eyes widened, his nostrils flared, and his fangs descended on instinct.

The two of you stood there, both staring at each other and refusing to move, waiting for the other to act first.

Jin was the one to break the stalemate.

“You’re on your period.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment, warmth radiating beneath your skin in response. He could smell it, that was the only explanation and that was a mortifying thought that had you pressing your thighs together, tight and closed.

He looked shaken, frazzled, and incredibly unlike himself. His rage was forgotten, his hunger controlling him. He was gripping the footboard of your bed, the skin of his knuckles stretched taut as he held onto it like he was keeping himself grounded.

“I want a taste,” He said, staring you down without a single blink.

It took you a moment to comprehend what he had just said, and as soon as you connected the dots you were anchoring yourself to the wall and vehemently shaking your head.

“No, no way!”

“Yes,”

“No! That’s messy and gross and I never agreed to do anything like that with you!

“I’m hungry,” He hissed, “And you expect me to just leave when you smell like fucking heaven?”

“Yes, because everything about this is crazy! I don’t know you, I never wanted to find you and now I’m stuck with you until you ultimately decide to kill me so I’m sorry that you’re hungry but it’s not even my problem in the first place!”

That was the one upside to being on your period, the influx of hormones allowed you to become confrontational.

“I’ll pay you double for a feed directly from the source,” He said with gritted teeth.

Jin was never one to bargain, usually he would leave a deal with far more than the other party. But this was something he refused to pass up. Vampires, very often, had little to no inhibitions especially when it came to sex. Sex was often a co-occurrence with feeding, and menstruation was the epitome of that. He didn’t expect a pathetic little human like you to understand. You were fettered by mortal concepts that had forced you to believe you were to be a social pariah during that time, that it was “gross,” as you had said. Little did you know you were considered a delicacy in his world, ripe for the taking. And he knew how delicious you were when he fed from the vein, his mouth watered at the thought of what it would be like now.

Your silence to his proposition only frustrated him even more.

“Do you know how many people would die to be in your position right now? I’ve had women beg to be on their knees for me and I’m offering to pay you to do the opposite.”

You were sure that he was telling the truth because he certainly was the most breathtaking man you had ever seen in your entire life. But what confused you was why he didn’t just throw you down and do as he pleased. He was bigger than you, stronger than you, and far faster than you. If he wanted it as badly as he claimed, why was he bargaining with you? You could only assume it was the lingering effects of the era he had lived in. While he was an asshole, perhaps he took no joy in forcing himself on a woman in that manner.

And then there was the money. Rent wasn’t cheap, that was for sure. And not many people could say that they were paid to be pleasured. It wasn’t a terrible offer, and the last thing you wanted to do was displease a vampire that could kill you and had threatened to do so before.

Shit.

“You wont hurt me?” You asked, your voice wavered.

“Quite the opposite,” He smirked. He knew that he had won.

A gasp of surprise parted your lips as he closed the distance between you, moving so fast that a gust of wind whipped up ruffling your hair and sending loose pages of paper tumbling from your desk. Your heart stuttered in fright, every minute you spent with him only served as a reminder of how dangerous he was. This arrangement you had with him was dangerous, you were toeing the line between life and death and that thought made your stomach turn in unease. He was a vampire, an apex predator, a creature that you had stopped believing in long ago, but also the undead embodiment of death. The very thing you feared the most. All it would take is one moment of frenzy, a lack of control and you would be left to bleed out in your sheets with no one to come and find your remains for weeks to pass.

You didn’t want to die, but you knew he wouldn’t let you live.

The touch of his cold fingers to your waist brought you back to him as he tugged you toward your bed, pressing you down onto the sheets before moving over you like an animal on the hunt. His eyes were pitch black, the veins beneath them prominent, and his fangs dangerously grazed his plump lips. He looked like a fallen angel, like Lucifer himself, the most beautiful outcast of them all.

An involuntary cry of fright left you as he moved impossibly fast once more, his face now level with the side of your head, the tip of his nose just barely brushing over your cheek as he chuckled. Even his breath was frigid.

“You’re nervous,” He hummed in delight, “Careful now, we wouldn’t want your heart to stop, would we?”

He could feel the violent, rapid thumps of your heart where his chest was pressed against yours. It had been a long time since he had had a human like this, oftentimes he found it too annoying. They were fragile creatures and having to restrain himself was rather inconvenient, but he preferred his partners to be responsive when he had his way with them, unlike some of his kind who couldn’t care either way. Was it still necrophilia if both parties were technically dead?

And while your heart was making itself known, you could feel nothing in response. His heart didn’t beat like yours, it had gone silent long ago and that thought only reminded you of just how wrong this entire thing was. He was dead, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how he also seemed so very alive and while that scared you deeply, it also ignited a disturbing thought within you. But that thought was quickly halted when he noticed your lack of attention on him.

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him.

An annoyed growl rumbled in his throat as he moved back, quickly going down the length of your body and ripping your shorts down your legs, exposing you to the cold air.

“Jin wait-” It felt as if all the air was sucked out of your lungs as he ignored you, plunging his face directly in between your thighs.

He was unlike any of the partners you had had before. He did not take his time even though he evidently had plenty of it. He didn’t warm you up with gentle words, pleasing touches, or lingering kisses. Instead, he was absolutely ravenous. It was just like he said, he was hungry. But you, on the other hand, had not been prepared in the slightest for how sensitive you would be.

You could only whine in discomfort as you tried to clench your thighs closed, one hand coming down to push at his shoulder. Your actions were completely useless, no matter how much force you could use it was like pushing against a concrete wall - he was immovable.

You could feel him growl in annoyance which only sent a shock throughout your body, your hips twitching and your shoulder blades digging into the mattress. His fingers were harshly pressing against your thighs, forcing them open wider and hooking your legs over his shoulders so that he could get impossibly closer to you.

“Too - too much!” You barely managed to get the words out, your body jolting from sharp bursts of pleasure.

“Be a good pet and take it for me,” He crooned, parting from you for a mere moment to look up at you - his bright crimson eyes cutting through the darkness that had steadily filled the room. “I thought you said you would do anything to keep your life?”

You couldn’t explain the feeling that his words gave you, but the shame that lingered was recognizable. Shame that enduring pleasure to ensure your survival was an addictive cocktail of emotions.

You couldn’t even form a response in time before he returned back to his feeding, his soft lips and firm tongue caressing you in a way that made you realize he was actively trying to make you feel good instead of solely focusing on gorging himself on your blood. You had no way of knowing that that just made the feed all the more enjoyable, the rush of hormones in your body only adding to the flavor. It was a flavor he already knew he was addicted to and while he was reluctant to admit it to himself, it was a flavor he could not live without.

And with each feed there were more problems to come. While he knew his blood, saliva, and venom were incredibly intoxicating to your weakened human state - he underestimated the effect you would have on him. With all of the hormones his bite coaxed out of you there was one pesky one that affected him: oxytocin. It was a bonding hormone, one that fostered a relationship between feeder and donator which was why so many vampires rarely fed from the same human more than once typically preferring to drain the body dry and dump it anywhere to rot.

He was willingly making himself vulnerable to you all in order to get another fix, another hit of your blood. And the worst part was, he didn’t mind.

“Jin!” You cried.

He was disgusted with himself, disgusted by the way his body shuddered and was aflame with tingles at the mere moan of his name rolling off of your lips. It was nothing special, countless others had done it before you, but he couldn’t understand why it was you. Why were you special?

He could blame it on the damn hormone bond all he wanted, but this was only the second feed which meant, to his utmost horror, it was him. His interest in you, a human, was more than just superficial desire.

Oh, how far he had fallen.

He smelled your salty tears and he could even see the gleam of them as they rolled down the curves of your cheeks as your hips pitched forward, broken whimpers wracking your body that only served to drive him crazier. He could drown in you and it still wouldn’t be enough.

And as soon as all of the tension within you snapped he was digging his fangs into the meat of your thigh, fresh, hot blood rushing over his tongue and down his throat. The blend was intoxicating for not only him but for you as well - the bite secreting venom that doubled the effects of all of his efforts that lit your brain and body on fire. You could become addicted to him just as easily as he was to you because that feeling, that feeling was indescribable and would never be able to be replicated by anyone but him. Just as he was chasing you for his fix, you could easily see yourself doing the same.

When you came too, you were startled by the gentle touch of his tongue to the puncture wounds on your thigh. It soothed over the cuts rhythmically, urging the skin to sew itself back together again. And while he worked, he stared. Bright, crimson red eyes were trained on you. His gaze dark and dangerous. Your body that had once been limp and relaxed immediately tensed once more. The knowledge that a predator was nestled into your lap was enough to reignite fear in your chest. You feared that the slightest twitch or breath would signal for him to lunge again, but this time the outcome would not be so pleasurable for you.

But Jin was a man of his word. You didn’t die that night and your bank account was fed in due course.

This continued for the next six days. Whereas before it seemed like the vampire was able to abstain from feeding for as long as he wished, he had now become ensnared by a ravenous, bottomless hunger. And that was all the more frightening. But what was even more frightening was the way he began to change.

He was still rude, cold, and dominating. But he had become ever present. His closeness could be described as suffocating. The only solitude you could find was in the daylight, but the minute the sun began to set he was back and hungrier than before. And after the…feeding, he would linger. He would touch you more often, his words still snarky but lacking their usual bite. It was like he was becoming comfortable around you. He was still insufferable, but undeniably comfortable.

It was that comfortability that encouraged you to entertain that dark thought you had tried to smother before. Your ever present fear of death could easily be solved, the answer to your problem mere inches away from you. You understood the gravity of the situation, what it would mean to become something like him. But you couldn’t deny the truth that you could live with ending the lives of others if it meant you could sustain your own. You didn’t want to die, you couldn’t fathom dying, and you had an undead man at your disposal. If he was willing.

It was after your seventh session together that you decided to finally ask him. His cherry red lips were pressed against your throat, swallowing every last drop of blood that slid down your skin. Your neck stung and your body thrummed with ecstasy, your fingers cupping the back of his head on reflex - moving without your permission.

“Jin?” You asked.

He hummed in response, visibly enthralled by the feed but letting you know he was listening anyway.

“I want to be like you,” You whispered.

A slick pop echoed in the room, his fangs pulled from your neck and retracted into his mouth, disappearing from sight. His eyes narrowed, his dark brows drawing together in confusion and distaste.

“No,” He simply said, retreating to the foot of your bed.

“Why not?”

“Because you would be useless to me, that’s why. What good is a donor that’s dead?” He scoffed.

You couldn’t deny the ache you felt in your chest, the sting that “useless” struck against your heart.

“You’re…you’re going to grow tired of me eventually. I’ll get old, I won’t taste as good anymore. Then, I’ll be useless.”

“Oh, I plan to savor every last drop that you can offer. I won’t let you go to waste like that, you are mine after all.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? You’ll just kill me before I go bad? Put me out of my misery before I can rot? I’m a fucking human being not a piece of meat!” You yelled, angrily standing up from your bed.

You expected him to become enraged, to become violent. But if anything he was deathly calm, still, and silent.

“Wouldn’t that be a kindness,” he stood from the bed, now towering over you, “To not have to grow older, to be in pain? To just stop here where you’re perfect, when you’re young and beautiful?” He said with a soft caress down your cheek.

“But you could give me what I want,” You pleaded, “You would never have to see me again, I could go far away and I wouldn’t be your problem anymore.”

A frown pulled at his lips, frustration falling over his features, “It’s not as simple as that. You would be bound to me, there are rules about these things.”

“Rules? Like laws, is there someone in charge of you?”

“Don’t bring that Twilight bullshit into this,” He hissed, running his hands through his hair in what appeared to be distress.

“Then I don’t understand, why can’t you do this for me? I’ve done everything you’ve asked! I’ve given you everything you wanted so that I could stay alive! Why can’t you understand that I don’t want to die!”

“Because you don’t understand what you’re asking for!” He snapped.

In that moment, he was brought back to that fateful day all those years ago. Yoongi had warned him, he had tried to stop him and he hadn’t listened. And now, he was being faced with a painful reminder of his naivety and arrogance when he stared back at you. Jin never regretted becoming a vampire. He never regretted his inability to grow old or the only way he was able to satiate his hunger. He enjoyed it. But if there was anything he didn’t enjoy, it was being under the control of someone else.

“We would be connected for the rest of eternity. Anything I ask of you, you have to do. You can’t deny me even if you tried. And even if you ran, you would eventually come back whether you wanted to or not. I would be your sire, your creator, you couldn’t hurt me no matter how badly you want to. We would be stuck together, do you understand?”

If there was anything he was afraid of, which he would never admit to, it would be having to rely on someone like that. It would be loving you, obsessively loving you like he felt the desire to creep over him. While he refused to admit it, all of those feeds had done their toll. He could feel the tugs of a weak bond forming between you - begging to be strengthened by a little of his own blood and a swift death. If you stayed human, he could save you from the fate he suffered through. And if he killed you, then no one else could have you. It was insane, but to him it was incredibly logical.

You had been quiet for quite some time, your face pensive before you finally spoke.

“That doesn’t sound all that different from our current arrangement.”

“Ugh, you’re insufferable!” He yelled, grabbing the closest thing to him and flinging it across the room in a show of strength and anger. So this was what Yoongi felt like.

“You’ve exhausted your usefulness to me,” He spat in rage, “Good luck defending yourself on your own.”

And just like that, he was gone. The only remainder of his presence was the broken chair that lay in pieces on the ground and the huge dent in the plaster from where it had hit.

You couldn’t stop the sudden wave of tears that poured down your face. That had been your only way to cheat death, and he wouldn’t give it to you after you had given him every piece of yourself that he had asked for.

The silence was loud, your sniffles and your pounding heart painfully apparent. But what was even more apparent, was the sense of paranoia steadily creeping over you.

What did you have to defend yourself from now that he was gone?

~~~~~~~

Jin was starving.

Even he was not so thick-headed that he couldn’t see what he was doing. He was throwing a temper tantrum.

He had left you for a month now in what was supposed to be a break that would teach you a lesson. You weren’t allowed to make demands from him, you weren’t the one in control. But if there was anything he had learned from his pathetic plan, it was that you were very much in control.

You had managed to burrow your way into his unwilling, stone cold heart. A feat that no one in his human and vampiric life had managed to do. The very thought itself made his stomach turn. He had never had to depend on anyone else, he never wanted commitment in that sense. Yet here he was yearning for you, a pathetic little hermit. His pathetic little hermit.

He let out an audible groan, collapsing back against one of the velvet couches in the club. The blue and red lights flashed over his face, his stomach rumbled in pain. He had thought it would only take a week for you to break, just a few days before you apologized and begged for him to come back. But he had greatly underestimated you.

It had been a month and he hadn’t fed. Everyone else paled in comparison, their blood sitting on his tongue like spoiled milk; he couldn’t even manage to swallow a drop. And that was completely his fault. This was why he was warned not to keep feeding from the same source. You were bonded now and he was suffering because of it.

He had never felt so backed into a corner before. And the fact that it was all because of a human was just salt in the wound. He thought that time would sever the bond but in reality, distance had just made it grow stronger.

Even now he was certain that he could smell your scent sifting through the hazy air, it’s tendrils beckoning him to come find you.

It was the prick of his fangs against his lip and the sudden pool of saliva flooding his mouth that made him realize it was anything but a fantasy. You were there. A wave of satisfaction rolled over him, you had broken first in a stalemate that you were unaware of. He had won. But any excitement he felt about his win was quickly thwarted when he was reminded of the present danger. You, who smelled so heavenly, had once more crawled into a nest of vampires.

He quickly lurched to his feet, cutting through the crowds of vampires and humans alike in order to find you. You were in the most dangerous spot in Briar Hills and he could not protect you. His abstinence had greatly weakened him, he could only hope that no one else would be aware of that. He was the eldest there and he was in charge, that should be enough to keep everyone else away from you.

Well, all except one.

You hadn’t even seen her coming, her or her “friends.” You had just barely managed to step foot inside the bunker before she was ripping you back outside, moving so quickly that your head was spinning and your neck burned with whiplash.

You moaned in pain, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other dug into the damp earth in an attempt to ground yourself from the violent pounding that vibrated all throughout your head. At first you were utterly dumbstruck, confused as to what exactly happened. But the swift kick of a pointy shoe to your ribs rolled you onto your back and allowed you to be faced with four pairs of glowing red eyes.

The pain in your head was quickly overshadowed by the hot shooting pain in your ribs. Your spinning head could just barely register the loud crack that had sounded when you were kicked. What looked to be an effortless, swift strike from her was enough to break your ribs.

“Hello sweetheart,” A familiar, sickeningly sweet voice crooned.

It was her, that vampire from a month ago. The one that Jin had saved you from.

Cold shocks ran through your body as you panted, grabbing your side as you tried to scoot away.

“Ah, ah, ah,” She teased, grabbing you by your ankle and roughly pulling you back. Another sickening pop echoed through the night as a violent scream tore its way free from your throat.

“Now, I’m not letting you get away from me so easily this time. You really pissed me off, and now you’re going to give me what I want.”

You had no time to react and nowhere to run to. She and her friends descended on you like a pack of hungry vultures. They ripped at clothing and jostled you around like a toy they didn’t want to share. And all four of them dug into you. With Jin, there had been little to no pain. But this was the worst pain of your life. You could feel teeth digging into you, ruthlessly cutting through your flesh and ripping it apart. Hot, thick blood was pouring out of your wounds, drenching your skin and your clothes in an instant.

There was nothing you could do but scream, cry, and shake.

You were helpless and soon you were going to die. You had no doubt that they had every intention to bleed you dry. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out. Your greatest fear was suddenly becoming a reality and there was absolutely nothing that you could do about it. Death spared no one, especially you.

And for a moment you thought that death really had come for you because the pain was suddenly wrenched away.

You laid there, groaning in pain as you listened to what was happening. You could hear her low, sultry voice, the sounds of hits landing, and a deep, rumbling growl that shook you to your very core. It wasn’t death, but it was a close second. Jin had found you.

You forced yourself to open your eyes and look, you struggled to turn your head but when you did your heart dropped. Half of her group collapsed, in various states of injury. But Jin was the worst. He was barely managing to stand and he looked so weak. His cheeks were gaunt compared to the last time you had seen him, the veins beneath his eyes prominent and exposed. But worse of all, he was coated in his own blood. It stuck to him like an oil spill, pouring from wounds that were trying to heal themselves albeit very slowly. He wasn’t going to make it out of this; he was too hurt, too weak, too hungry, and outnumbered.

“I knew it,” Junghee giggled, her voice pitchy with murderous glee. “I could smell you all over her, you bonded with her!”

Jin said nothing. He wobbled, his chest rose and fell rapidly with angered breaths.

“Oh, how far you’ve fallen, Jin,” She sneered, “So high and mighty and look at you now. You’re no better than the rest of us - in fact you’re weaker than us! I’m so sick and tired of living under you and your rules, I think it’s time someone replaces that coven of yours. It’s time for a new jurisdiction.”

“I’ll give you one chance to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness,” He said with a deathly calm voice.

“I’m going to rip you apart and burn the pieces. And when I’m finished with you, I’m going to drain your little pet dry.” She said with a cocky grin.

Jin hummed in response, his head slightly tilting back as he thought. His eyes seemed to glow even more intensely in the dark, a ring of light shining around his irises as he spoke.

“That’s an interesting idea. Tear each other apart.”

You stared in shock as they immediately obeyed his command. It was mind-control, he could compel individuals to do his bidding. How many times had he used it on you and you had gone on unaware of it?

All four of them turned on one another, rushing at each other with abandon. It looked like they were marionettes, like someone else was controlling their limbs and forcing them to do as he commanded. You watched as the four of them attacked each other, clawing at their friends and prying their limbs from their bodies. The sounds were horrific. You could hear them screaming, crying, gurgling, and begging for it to end as they tortured one another. Black blood sprayed and stained their hands and faces as they ripped each other apart limb by limb.

Your stomach rolled at the sight, your wounds flashed hot with pain, and your ribs and ankle throbbed in sympathy as they violently mutilated each other until they couldn’t reach one another anymore - their limbs dismembered and useless.

You choked down the bile that threatened to escape your throat. They had tried to kill you, they were getting what they deserved. They were going to do the same to you and Jin.

Jin.

You caught sight of the vampire a few feet away from you. He had fallen to the ground after he had issued the command. His body was unnervingly still, his skin ashen and the sickliest pallor you had ever seen. He was dying, you were sure of it. That was something you had thought to be impossible for his kind but here he was proving you wrong. It was possible, but hard to do.

You felt a surge of adrenaline wash over you. You couldn’t let him die, he was your one chance to avoid that very same fate. You needed him just as much as he needed you. If you could help him then he would owe you. You could get the immortality that you were desperate for.

You cried out in pain as you rolled onto your side and crawled to him. Each inch you moved felt like you were being stabbed along the way. Your body was crying in protest but you were on a mission.

When you finally closed the distance between you, you could breathe a sigh of relief. He was hurt badly, but he was still “alive,” if not barely.

You grabbed him by his shoulders and slowly, painfully, dragged him into your lap. Your body threatened to crumble beneath his weight as you guided his head to the open wound on your neck. This was a risk, a really big risk. You were hurt badly and you had already lost so much blood, but you were sure that he would be able to stop.

“Come on, Jin,” You encouraged him, cupping the back of his head with your hand, “Come on drink, you need to drink.”

You felt a cool puff of breath on your neck, his nose slightly skimming over your pulse as the scent of blood pulled him out of unconsciousness. And as soon as he was awake, his predatory instincts took control. He lunged forward, wrapping you up in a vice like grip as he dug his fangs into the already open wound.

You hissed but held still, allowing him to get his fill. He was scarily inhuman at that moment. Jin had fed from you many times, but he had never been like this before. Silent, overbearing, and territorial.

Your eyes began to flutter, they were feeling incredibly heavy and it was becoming hard to keep them open. You had lost too much blood, you were still losing too much blood.

“Jin,” You croaked, “You need to stop.”

He ignored you and continued drinking, only digging his fangs in harder to force more blood from your throat.

“Jin please stop, please,” You cried, “You’re going to kill me!”

When you realized he wasn’t responding, that he was too enthralled by the feeding frenzy, you began to fight. You tugged at his hair, pushed at his shoulders, kicked at him with your good leg but it all was for nothing.

He let out an animalistic growl, squeezing you tighter before roughly shoving you to the ground and pinning your wrists above your head. He groaned in delight as your fighting ceased, as your blood flowed more easily into his waiting mouth.

You were fading fast, your visions steadily beginning to black out around the edges. He was going to kill you, and just like before there was nothing you could do about it. You were utterly helpless.

Your own desires would be your downfall. Just like Icarus, you had flown too close to the sun.

~~~~~~~

When Jin came to, he was confused.

He couldn’t remember anything after he had ordered Junghee and her coven to dismember one another. But when he became aware, he quickly figured out what had happened. Their corpses were sprawled about, their limbs still occasionally twitching.

And you were there, scarily still in his arms with the remnants of your blood on his lips.

He didn’t expect a wave of grief to wash over him. He hadn’t felt that even when his own family died or when he watched them mourn the loss of a son that never truly perished. But the sight of you, your broken body limp in his arms was enough to force a choked sob out of him. It was painful, it was complete and utter despair.

It was in that moment that he realized he did love you. In some horrific twist of fate, he loved you. He once thought that he would be able to kill you, then no one else could have you. But he didn’t anticipate the pain that it would cause him.

A soft, weak flutter halted all grief he felt. It was your heart. Your little human heart was still trying to beat. You could still be saved.

That was how he ended up here, with the only person he knew that could fix you.

“So, this is what you’ve been doing with all your free time.” Namjoon hummed, checking over your vitals.

Jin stayed quiet, nervously clenching and unclenching his fingers. At that moment, he understood what Yoongi went through. If he believed in karma, which he didn’t, he would have been able to appreciate it. This was what he deserved after what he put Yoongi and the fledgling through. But Jin was far more determined to keep you human than his “brother” ever was.

But it was undeniable that he could finally understand him. He finally knew what Yoongi was trying to protect him from all those years ago.

“Junghee really did a number on her. I’ve given her an awful lot of my blood to heal her wounds. It would just take one quick break, Jin. You said it yourself, this is what she wanted.” He mused.

“She’s my pet, nothing more. She’s useless to me as one of us, I want to make her last as long as I can.” He said with a warning glare.

“It’s useless, you know, lying to me. I could smell it on you the second you came through the door. You bonded with her, she’s yours now. Do with her what you will, but she will join us soon. Whether it’s you or me, well that’s entirely up to her. But I have a feeling she would let any of us do it at this point.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but I would. Remember this, everything I do is for our family. You helped me with Yoongi, you understood then what I was trying to do. You can keep playing with her for a little longer, but she will join us. Don’t make me command you, Jin.”

Jin’s back stiffened, that familiar tug in his brain was there. That feeling that he needed to fulfill his creator’s wishes. And so, he bought himself some time.

“I don’t think it’s her you need to be worried about,” Jin said, that cocky edge to his voice back once more.

“Oh really?” Namjoon asked, leaning forward in interest.

“When was the last time you checked in on Hoseok?”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed in thought. Jin had got him, this was what he was good at - misdirection.

“Hoseok too?” He mumbled to himself. “Don’t you find it odd that this is all happening now? Yoongi and the fledgling, you and your pet, Taehyung and the little human he keeps in his studio, and now Hoseok? How interesting.”

He knew about Taehyung? But he hadn’t said anything about Jimin or Jungkook. He didn’t know everything. He had two more bargaining chips to buy himself more time.

“Watch over her, make sure she doesn’t hemorrhage. You’ve done a good thing, Jin. Thank you.” Namjoon said before briskly leaving the room - his office that now served as a hospital for you.

He wasn’t so sure that he had done a good thing. He was paying for what he had done to Yoongi now, what would come to him next now that he sold out Hoseok. And what about Jungkook and Jimin, what would happen when he revealed their secrets as well.

That was all he could think about as he waited for you to wake up. Namjoon’s blood was doing a thorough job. He was old and strong and because of that your body was mending itself incredibly quickly.

The only thing he hated was that you smelled like him. It was Namjoon’s blood in your body and because of that you were practically emanating his scent. Your normal heavenly essence was murky in the haze of his creator’s and it would take some time for it to dissipate. He was going to have to live with it for the time being. For now, he needed to figure out how he was going to protect you from the fledgling and from Hoseok. One was hungry and the other was certainly going to be pissed with him.

But if he could keep you like this for a little while longer it was worth it.

Your heart monitor was starting to accelerate, the beeping became loud and frequent. You were awake.

He slowly raised his head to look at you and he felt his stomach drop. You were giving him the thousand yard stare, your frail body tense on the mattress. You were utterly and completely frightened of him.

Your name left his lips in a hushed whisper as he stood, moving closer to your bedside. You shrieked and huddled into the furthest corner that you could.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to block yourself off from him.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his tone the softest it had ever been, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let me go, I want to leave. I don’t want to see you ever again, I want to go home!” You were rambling now, every frightened word running out of you with a gasp.

“You can’t leave, it’s too late now.” He said apologetically. He had never apologized before.

“I want to leave!” You screamed again, “You tried to kill me! You said you wouldn’t but you did! You lied, you’re a fucking liar!”

“I’m in control now, that’s never going to happen again I swear.”

“You’re a fucking liar!” You screamed again, your words trailing off with a broken sob.

He had felt grief when he thought he had killed you, but now he was experiencing heartbreak. His first, genuine heartbreak. He thought seeing your lifeless body was bad, but this, this was somehow worse.

He was suddenly overcome with the urge to comfort you, to hold you. And so he tried. The second he picked you up you began to writhe, screaming obscenities at him and clawing at his skin. You were trying to do anything you could to get away from him.

The last time he had held you like this, held you this close, he had tried to kill you. Your body and mind were completely in survival mode now and you needed to get away from him.

But he wouldn’t let you budge. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped you in a tight embrace, pinning your arms in between the two of you so that you couldn’t hurt yourself while trying to hurt him. All you could do was scream and cry and writhe but eventually your body went lax when you realized it was pointless. There was no escape.

Your brush with death had only made you more frightened of it. You had met that dark, empty void and the void had stared back at you. What some might have found to be peaceful, you had found to be terrifying. And, as a result, you were terrified of Jin. He had brought you to that void and your body was certain he would escort you back.

“I’m sorry,” He finally said, the words not burning him like he once thought they would for the longest time. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffled as you limply laid in his hold. You could feel the soft touch of his lips against your cheeks, collecting your tears as they brushed by in the lightest of kisses.

“Never again,” He mumbled, “I promise.”

You whimpered once more, the word liar echoing in your mind.

“I’ll give you what you want, I swear. You’ll never be that close to death again, I’ll keep you safe. Just give me time.”

You slightly perked in interest. What you want…what you want. He’ll give you what you want. You tilted your head up at the same time he went to kiss your forehead, only for him to gently kiss you instead. He froze for a moment, still as a statue as he processed what he had done before he did it again, and again, and again. It was like he had discovered a new insatiable hunger that he couldn’t settle no matter how many times he tried.

“I love you,” He admitted so softly against your lips that you thought you had imagined it.

He loved you. He was going to give you what you wanted. You had almost died. He was a liar. Your mind was reeling.

“No one else can have you, not even death can take you away from me; because you’re mine, remember?”

#bts x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere jin #bts fanfic #yandere jin x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #vampire jin #vampire jin x reader #yandere vampire #vampire bts #vampire bts x reader #predator universe #yandere vampire jin #yandere vampire jin x reader

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lorelune · 1 year ago

Text

six drinks, first time

|| jing yuan x f! reader || E/18+ || drunk reader + adoring jin yuan + kink reveal || wc: 2.5k || ao3 ||

Jing Yuan covets the fact he knows you better than anyone else. It’s unfortunate for him that plum wine makes you sweeter and more honest, revealing a piece of yourself he hasn’t considered.

minors & ageless blogs dni

a/n: jing yuan has rotted my brain i need him so badly fr fr :salute: enjoy!!

CWs: drunk reader, engaged jing yuan and reader, possessive jing yuan, corruption kink, virginity kink, reader visibly blushes, light exhibitionism/threat of exhibitionism

It's rare for Jing Yuan to see you this way. So carefree, so weightless, so unabashed, despite the many bodies around you and looks that your display is inevitably drawing. Jing Yuan is too old to care for decorum in this setting, it's a party after all. Though he'll only nurse a drink or two during the evening, lest lose himself, he appreciates seeing his compatriots enjoy themselves.

He wasn't expecting you to partake as much as you have, though.

Jing Yuan has been counting your drinks— five, sipping on a sixth (some plum wine that he’s sure has a taste that will linger on your lips. He wants nothing more than to find out himself). You'll undoubtedly have a headache in the morning. He's less concerned about that (he'll treat you well, he always does, the lovesick fool he is). You rarely drink so much, usually just stealing sips from his glass and remaining sober by his side, so it's quite the treat for him to see you lose yourself in this way.

You cling to his arm, cheek pressed into his shoulder as you listen to Fu Xuan drone about a trivial bit of gossip. Jing Yuan entertains her, and you watch them both, entranced. Lips parted and a bit chapped, cheeks flushed, with a thigh thrown over his own. You're rarely so affectionate with him in public, or anywhere other than your home. You insist upon decorum, but after your third drink, it's been thrown out the window. You're practically in his lap.

At the thought, Jing Yuan tests his luck. It takes no effort for him to wrangle you over his thighs, and you throw an arm around his neck, pressing the other over his chest. You bear your weight into him. It's horribly precious of you.

Though your relationship isn't a secret, it's something you don't answer common questions about. Even if Tingyun tries to twist your arm for information on the general, you always skillfully decline (or, tell her off with equally flowery words. It's impressive to watch considering he's well aware of the other contexts you use such vocabulary and tone in— in war rooms at the side of long tables, or while sitting over his hips, smearing spit across his lips.)

You gasp at something Fu Xuan says. Jing Yuan squeezes around your hip. When your flesh gives way under his grip, Jing Yuan sees stars. It's so rare he gets to indulge in this way. He'll milk it for all its worth.

You're unaware of it— the gazes that you draw, from colleagues, foes, strangers. Jing Yuan is terribly attuned to it. You'd probably be alarmed if you knew the extent to which Jing Yuan is acutely aware of each wayward glance or longing look you receive. You have admirers. Your lack of public acknowledgment of your relationship (besides the engagement rings you both wear. Identical, cast in the same metal, sharing halves of the same stone) allows room for it.

Jing Yuan never lets them get far. For how little you both say of it, he isn't shy about standing closer to you than anyone else. Inviting you to the seat of divine foresight, whenever he bothers to actually be there. He asks for you on daily walks and you're the only other person his finches will eat from the hand of.

If an admirer of yours doesn't get the message after such clear signals, Jing Yuan takes a more direct approach. A hand on the small of your back, leveling you a gaze that screams 'I will be splitting you open on my cock the first moment you allow me' in an open market for all to see, or making eye contact with said suitor and provide them a particular hardened, venomous look that Jing Yuan's only been able to forge through time and his feelings for you.

He'd never considered himself a possessive man before you.

Look at what you've done to him, made him selfish and desperate at your hand.

Jing Yuan has little to lose. You've finished your sixth drink. He kisses your jaw— just a drag of the lips over the curve of it. He feels you give a full-bodied shudder, balling up his robe in your fist.

He’d never considered himself needy either, but with you, he is. He hides it well. He doesn't even think you know, though you could see it if you looked hard enough.

"Dearest," he speaks against your ear, only for you to hear. "May I take you home?"

You turn to pout at him. He's patient, horribly, perhaps to a detriment at times— but you're testing him.

"Noooo, not yet!" You whine. "The party's so nice and Fu Xuan's fun when she's tipsy."

You hide a giggle behind your palm, and you don't see the way Fu Xuan bristles behind you.

"Can I convince you?" Jing Yuan asks you. He squeezes your inner thigh. He'd put his hand to your skin directly if he could, if he didn't value your modesty—

(Though, perhaps he's been entertaining the thought of having you in a courtyard for the past half hour. Who is to say.)

You hum, thoughtful, "You will have to be very persuasive. I'm enjoying myself thoroughly."

"Noted. You know I can be."

"Hmmm... I'm listening."

Jing Yuan hums, "Such things would be better discussed in private. Take a walk with me?"

You frown, "I don't want to get up."

"I'll carry you."

"You wouldn't—" you flush at that. Jing Yuan cups your face so he can feel your cheeks heat.

"I would. Happily, in fact."

You shouldn't be surprised when he rises with you in his arms, only depositing you back to the ground when you squeal and squirm. You still grab his hand as you depart from the crowded party room. Jing Yuan feels each gaze that follows them. He rubs over the ring on your left hand.

Jing Yuan takes you to an overlook. The city is deserted so late. There's no need for his knights to be stationed so close to the celebration, considering the amount of soldiers teeming just inside.

He crowds you against the railing, slowly, leveraging you with a hand on your side. He'd never let you fall, especially when you sway with the drinks you've had.

"You've been so sweet this evening." Jing Yuan noses down the line of your throat.

"Am I not sweet every evening?"

"You are, of course." Jing Yuan could spend days, months— years even, telling you in all the ways. He's long since become accustomed to the unique heartache you give him— like a wound that never heals or a bruise that will never yellow. The only way to soothe it is with your words, your touch, your presence in his bed and by his side— and wrapped around his arm when you so cutely drink yourself into a stupor. "It's rare that I get to see you partaking in the way you have. It's lovely to see you enjoy yourself. I simply wish to enjoy you myself. If you don't wish to return all the way home, I happened to see a few spare rooms—"

"Jing Yuan!" You tug at his hair. He suppresses a moan. "That would be— indecent. And unbecoming of someone of your rank."

"My rank is unmoving and unchanging, regardless of any sweet sounds I could draw from you. But, I suppose, you are quite the shy thing, aren't you—?"

"You're awful." You say with no bite. You kiss him stupid and Jing Yuan feels stupid. He never feels undone or outwitted, but you silence him so easily. A few touches and he's nothing. "Scoundrel."

"And, you love me for it."

"Well, yes, of course." You assure him and nip at his bottom lip. "Enough to want to marry you, in fact."

"So, you'll allow me to walk you home and keep you from work tomorrow?"

"Why would you keep me from work?"

"I don't expect you to be walking with any ease when I’m finished with you." Jing Yuan, perhaps, desires to mark your neck as well. It's a rare thing, and when he does, he revels in the way you futz with your collar all day to try and hide them. He thinks he'll give you one that you can't hide, right over your pulse point.

"How do I know you're not just trying to get out of those meetings that are on the books for tomorrow morning?" You bat at his chest, a smile burgeoning on your lips. He's got you.

"I only wish to spend the rest of the evening pleasuring you." He lilts his voice and squeezes lower on your hips. "Does my lover not trust me?"

You bury your face in his chest and shudder. He chuckles, running a palm over your hair, cupping the back of your neck. So easily undone, choice words and you unravel.

"You make me think all these weird things."

"Weird how?" He asks, already cajoling you into linking arms, matching your stride.

"I— I've been having this thought and I can't get it out of my head." You avoid looking at him and Jing Yuan’s interest is piqued.

"Will you share with me?"

"It's... embarrassing. And lewd."

"Dear," he presses your ring into your finger. "I have promised myself to you in all ways. If it's a desire you have, I want nothing more than to hear and indulge it."

"You're spoiling me."

"You're avoiding telling me what has plagued you so." Jing Yuan reminds you.

You pause and chew on your words.

Jing Yuan is... curious. Your desires are not a mystery to him. You've been forthright with your wants, and he has in turn, and very little has been vetoed. If anything, you've given him much to think about. You occupy his thoughts in a way that is probably distracting, but so close to retirement— he can let himself daydream about a future where keeping you in bed and flush to him is his only job.

"It's just that—" You shift from foot to foot. You're not far from home now, and you drag your feet. "That, you know? We'll have forever, and it makes me think about all the stuff from before that."

He hums. You've revealed fragments to him, unpleasant bits of the past you've moved beyond.

"And like... What if— Just. Maybe. I think about it sometimes." You kick the metal and stone at your feet. "I think about you being my first. I'm gonna be with you forever, you know? I wish you could just unmake me, and take me for the first time."

Jing Yuan stalls. Almost stumbles. He catches himself by the barest fringes of his finesse because Aeons and stars, what the fuck did you just say—?

(He considers himself an expert in you. He knows your mood, the way your skin changes with the artificial weather and your favorite fruits, and how you best like them cut. He knows the ways to curl his fingers inside you to bring you climax within just moments or hours, if he so deigns.)

(Yet, he never knew this desire. Never considered it. Foresight means nothing when you obscure his vision in the same way a comet's tail bursts as it hits solid atmosphere— blinding and forged with wishes.)

"Jing Yuan? Are you okay?" You ask him, voice gone soft and timid. "Was that... bad?"

"No." Jing Yuan steels himself. He has much to consider. He must act. He scoops you into his arms and throws you over his shoulder.

"Hey!" You let out a little ‘oof’ and pound on his back. "What's this for? If you're upset with me, just say it."

"You didn't upset me at all." He runs a hand over the back of your thighs, his palm coming to rest over your ass. "The opposite, actually overjoyed. You've been so gracious, I couldn't possibly let you tire yourself out with a walk home, could I?"

He squeezes a cheek and feels his cock twitch at the squeak you let out.

He's going to ruin you, he decides. Perhaps not now, but another night. If you wish him to rewrite a poor memory, your first, he will. He wants you dead sober for it.

"... Why do I feel like you're thinking really hard?" you slap his ass and he snorts. "You're scheming. I can tell."

"Only planning, dear. I promise it's in your best interest."

It's all he thinks about as he sets you on the threshold of your shared home. He feeds you rice with egg and tuskpir belly and it’s all he fucking thinks about. He fucks you stupid and drooly and full into the sheets, and it consumes him.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he fucks into you from behind. His cock hasn't even been this hard, he thinks, it almost hurts. You make the sweetest sounds below him, sticky tears clumping your lashes as you squeeze his hand back. Every thrust pushes you into the mattress. He's blowing out your back, surely. He knows the ache you'll have in the morning and he'll chase it away.

He presses his chest to your back, licking up your neck and stilling the cant of his hips. You breathe in time.

"I'll take you like it's your first time— I'd love nothing more." He licks over a high patch of skin on your neck. "We can even play pretend, if you'd like. Would you like to be a blushing virgin who's never taken cock before?"

You laugh, tilting your head back to bonk into his, "Sounds like you'd just like to corrupt my hypothetical innocence."

"And if I did?" Jing Yuan speaks so seriously that it stills you. He thinks of every set of eyes that looked at you that evening, every ogling glance that traced a figure that is only his. He bites down into the flesh of your neck, sucking a bruise so dark it'll last for days. "If I want to undo you and be the only one who's ever fucked you, seen you like this, would I be wrong to? I think that you may even enjoy that."

You let out a shaking breath. Your cunt squeezes like a vice around his cock and he groans into the mark he's branded on you.

"You're going to ruin me." You smother your voice into the sheets as he picks up his pace. The slap of skin is wet, you're drenched, it's filthy and Jing Yuan never wants it to end. Perhaps he should rethink his views on immortality.

"I am." He will. It's a promise, a vow that's sealed with the faltering rhythm of his hips and the way he spills inside of you. He eats himself out of your cunt, until you're cumming on his tongue and thrashing against the hold he keeps on your hips.

Jing Yuan feels so pleased when he finally lays down at your side after wiping you down. You doze, rolling into his warmth the moment he's under the covers.

He will ruin you. He will reshape you for him, if that's your desire.

He keeps a hand between your sticky thighs and pushes his spent that dribbles from your cunt back inside you.

#lore writes #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr x reader #jing yuan reader insert #ANYWAYS #this man has rewritten me #i am changed #crawling from the metaphorical baptismal pool h word and having THOUGHTS #i wrote this in a single sitting like a man possessed #anyways ENJOYS <3

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fushipurro · 1 year ago

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Red Lights Red Flags

Chapter 2 - Marigold

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, ronin!toji, courtesan!reader, jjk historical au, mentions of death/assault, forced prostitution, fluff, pet names, past trauma, angst, hurt/comfort

☆ Word Count: 1.6k

Winter had come and settled in fast, marking yet another month you’ve lived as a courtesan.

Snow piled in the streets and the number of guests that come by have lessened as many decide it best to stick to the comfort of their own homes instead of the arms of a prostitute. Putting your debt aside, you’re content with the calm, only hoping it doesn’t turn to a proverbial storm.

The light of dawn reflects beautifully off the falling snow with iridescent tones, a sight you share with Toji at your side. He’s become a regular client of yours, nearly every night if he’s able. He hasn’t pushed your boundaries, nor forced himself on you which to some may come off as disinterest, but not when we’re dealing with Toji. It’s the opposite really, it just shows the respect he has for you.

“Hey Toji?” He hums in response. “Has the lake frozen over yet? The one by the big plum tree in the park?”

He glances at you from the side with a raised brow. “Yeah,” he pauses for a moment, “Bunch of kids already running the place.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You smile, and he turns his head to you in full as if waiting for something more. “My family used to take us there many years ago…” You raise a pickled plum up from the dish to your mouth, savoring the taste. “…I miss those times.”

Toji returns his gaze to the window, looking beyond the snow-kissed rooftops to a destination unknown.

“Yeah.”

With the arrival of a new season, Hanami has decided to dedicate today to having the brothel cleaned top to bottom, all hands on deck (save for her prized flowers, as always).

The Peony herself is still very much annoyed with you, but with a Zenin as your client more often than not, it’s given you some wiggle room in avoiding her wrath. There’s also a rumor that she’s found a new “toy” to play with that’s been keeping her occupied. That’s a good thing, right?

Your day so far has been filled with nothing but washing what feels like every robe this building contains. Fabric after fabric of the most well-designed pieces, some worth more than the debt your father’s accumulated. A voice calls out to you by name from a woman in blue, “Whenever you have a moment, Shion’s requested to see you.”

Shion?

The Aster herself?

To say you’re surprised is putting it lightly. Fear inevitably bubbles up like stomach bile as you remember the last time a high-ranked flower requested your presence. At least it’s not Botan this time around, but you know next to nothing about Shion.

“I’ll be there soon!” you tell the woman who promptly takes her leave. You know better than you keep someone of the Aster’s status waiting, so you quickly work to finish the task at hand.

Similar to the Peony Room, the Aster Room’s doors are painted with many blue and white flowers to match her color scheme. You kneel before the doors, announcing yourself.

“Enter,” she replies, with an elegant tone in her voice. When you peel the doors back, you’re met with an equally elegant, mature woman resting by the windows at her bedside. “Come, sit closer to me.”

In the sunlight, her hair is revealed as a blue so pale, it’s almost like ice on a frozen river. A piebald crow is perched on the windowsill, paying no mind to your movements to sit before the woman.

The other courtesans don’t talk about Shion as often, only noting her outward beauty and skill as a courtesan. There are also some deeper rumors that say she’s a witch of some sorts. Nevertheless, she maintains a high status, even compared to the likes of Botan.

She turns to address you in full, eyeing you up with sharp, purplish eyes. Each look she spares feels akin to talons tearing away any façade you may be attempting to hold.

She hums, “Yes, I can see what the fuss has been about lately with you.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you trouble, Shion.” You bow, expecting her to be upset in favor of her near equal.

“Trouble? Nonsense.” she snickers, and you raise your head up in shock. “You’ve made this place much more interesting to me in recent times.”

Now you’re completely thrown off and confused. “You’re not upset with me?”

“Not in the slightest.” Shion reaches forward, cupping your chin with delicate fingers. She leans forward, all while the crow behind her hops to the side. “In fact, I’m glad someone can give Botan a much-needed reality check. It’s for her own good, and yours as well.”

“I don’t wish to offend, but I’m not understanding what you mean…”

She releases her hold on your face. “Don’t stress over it, all that matters is that you found someone special in your short time being here. I wish to help cultivate that.”

Your brain is working overtime in trying to comprehend what’s going on. Everything she’s saying is like a riddle to you, or maybe these are just the magic words of a supposed witch.

“I wish to claim you for my garden,” she says with a confident look, but those words leave your mouth agape at the meaning.

In this specific brothel, gardens are what refers to those chosen by high-ranking courtesans to act as their lady-in-waitings while continuing their work. The difference is that it earns you the nickname of a flower, boosting your significance while also granting special inclusions.

“Are you sure you wish to pick someone like me? There must be better–"

“Don’t sell yourself short now,” she interrupts. “You have a bright future ahead of you, and it’s my duty to make that happen. It’s in both of our best interests for you to accept.”

You lower your head into a bow once more. “I humbly accept your invitation, Shion.”

“You’ve made a wise decision, my little Marigold.”

She brings her hand down upon the crown of your head, softly caressing your hair as a distant memory flashes through your mind of your own mother doing this for you. A few stray tears fall from your eyes onto the tatami, treasuring the newfound acceptance.

“Be proud of yourself, and soon you’ll shine like gold. I promise you that.”

“Thank you, Shion.” You sniffle, raising your eyes to her with a gleeful smile.

The crow caws, stretching its wings before taking flight to the heavens above, leaving behind a two-colored feather on the wooden frame.

The following night, business was up and running like normal. Guests arrive intermittently should the weather allow, and you spend your time at first idling with your new chores for Shion. You were expecting Toji to have arrived already to save you from any other possible client, but so far he hasn’t come by.

You feel a tap on your shoulders, drawing you out of your reverie. “Shion is requesting your assistance.”

Your heart sinks, but the night is early so maybe he’ll come by later. When you arrive at the Aster Room, you’re wearing the new kimono prepared to you by Shion. This one is brightly colored compared to the dull, tattered robes you wore before. The fabric adorned with marigolds colored after the sun, befitting of your new imagery title.

On normal occasions, you would be wearing blue to separate you from Shion’s status, but she’s requested you wear this piece handpicked by her own self. She even spent the time perfecting your hair and makeup in a similar style of her own, and you’ve never felt more beautiful.

“I knew this robe would be perfect for you, my little Marigold.” She smiles softly, like a proud mother. You admire yourself in the mirror, but you can’t help but wonder what Toji would say if he could see you now. “Are you falling in love?” Shion abruptly asks, as if reading your mind is another one of her unique talents.

Her question has you blushing. “L-love? I uh.. I-I mean he’s really kind…”

“Is that all?” She chuckles, and you hide your face behind your hands. “Are you sure it’s not something more?”

Even if it was, would Toji feel the same? It’s one thing to make you feel safe and respected or the time he takes to ensure you’re eating and sleeping properly, but falling in love this fast? There are still so many unknowns.

You ponder her words throughout the night as she entertains her clientele. She’s left you in charge of setting the mood with your musical talents, the peaceful serenade of the Koto becoming a symbol for you.

As the night comes to an end with the light of dawn soon approaching, Toji still hasn’t made his arrival, and you can’t help but worry. That fear turns to something more, like poison brewing in your stomach when you hear some passing gossip.

“I heard they were splayed out all over the place with their heads cleanly removed.”

“That’s brutal… hope they catch the guy before there’s a fifth victim.”

“Who knows, rumor has it it’s that one Zenin. Ya know, the one with the scar?”

“Oh yeah, that monster of a son? I’m sure he’ll get off easy from his status alone.”

You stop dead in your tracks, paralyzed and feeling unable to breathe. With wide eyes, you stare at the men leaving the establishment. It takes everything in you to get your legs moving again before you’re rushing to your new private room. Once inside, you collapse to the ground with trembling limbs.

There’s little doubt that they aren’t referring to Toji, and you wonder if this is why he skipped his visit tonight. Trouble’s brewing, and you know it, but you’re powerless to do anything about it so long as you’re confined to this brothel.

Please be safe, Toji.

☆ Notes: originally I thought of shion as mei mei but..... ew, let's leave that for the plot. there's some hidden details too with asters and marigolds some of you might pick up on, and some deeper tones with marigolds reflecting y/n's character and life. i love flower language.

☆ Taglist: @fandomtrash5092 @catmania-choco

#jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #jjk au #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin #toji x reader #ronin!toji #courtesan!reader #toji x you

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kabie-whump · 6 months ago

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✧･ﾟ Ripe, About to Fall - Part 11 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from 'Liquid Smooth' by Mitski

Series First | Previous Summary: Ventis still isn't talking, and Athos takes advantage of it. Theodore visits Athos and has a chat with Ventis. Content: non-con oral onscreen, beating mentions, degradation, trauma-induced muteness?, character death mention, (let me know if I missed a tag I'm brain soup right now)

Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ventis’s whole body ached as he sat at his master’s feet. It’s been at least two years since he was last beaten as badly as he was yesterday, but still not a word escaped his lips.

He didn’t really know why he wasn’t talking. He’d like to believe it to be a brave act of rebellion, except he really did want to give in. He didn’t like being beaten up, didn’t like the threat in Athos’s eyes every time he responded to a question with a nod or shake of his head. Ventis was a lot of things, but he wouldn’t consider himself to be brave.

But the words just wouldn’t leave his lips, no matter how desperately he tried to convince them to.

At least he didn’t have to wear such revealing clothing today, since Athos wanted to keep the worst of the bruises hidden.

“He really is beautiful, Mr. Landleigh. You’re a lucky man.”

Ventis blinked himself out of his thoughts, glancing up at the source of the words. Dwen. One of Athos’s newest business partners - a man probably only ten years older than Ventis. He stood out in a room otherwise filled with people old enough to be Ventis’s parents or even grandparents. Dwen was a hungry young man in more ways than one, and he never kept his eyes to himself.

“Indeed,” Athos hummed, reaching down to pat Venits’s head. Ventis couldn’t help but lean into the touch, finding comfort in the gentleness despite its source. “He requires a fair amount of training and upkeep, but he’s certainly worth the trouble.”

“I’ve been considering getting a pet of my own. You do nothing but rave about yours. But I fear it would be challenging to find one that lives up to him.”

Ventis looks up at Athos, watching a smirk cross the man’s face. The look that means he’s up to something, and Ventis isn’t going to like it.

Athos ran his fingertips along Ventis’s cheek lovingly. “Isn’t that sweet, treasure? My friend here envies your rare beauty. Do you want to give him a taste of what it’s like to own you?”

Ventis swallowed hard, shaking his head. He knew exactly what Athos meant. Athos had let his friends use him before, but it was a rare occurrence and only when he was particularly upset with him.

“Hm. I don’t hear a ‘no’.” Athos said with a grin. “That’s very generous of you, darling.” He stood, grabbing Ventis by a horn and dragging him over to kneel in front of Dwen.

Dwen smiled down at Ventis, his hands moving to his belt.

Ventis’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

“I know you haven’t been feeling well recently,” Athos said, leaning down to speak softly into Ventis’s ear. “If you aren’t up for this, just tell me. I can make it all stop.”

Ventis shook his head again, pleading with his eyes.

Athos’s lips were still set in a smile, but his eyes shone with disappointment. “Oh, you don’t want to stop? Alright then. He’s all yours, Dwen.”

Ventis steeled himself as Athos returned to his seat and struck up a casual conversation with his other partners. He could deal with this. He had plenty of experience. It wouldn’t kill him, and his veins were thumming with Nightspill, helpfully numbing the sharper of his emotions.

I’m fine. I can handle this.

Dwen’s hand found Ventis’s hair, guiding him in closer until his lips touched hot flesh.

Just tune it out.

Ventis closed his eyes, praying that Dwen would at least be gentle. Not that anyone ever was. His training took over and he opened his mouth. His fangs dug into the scarred-over spots on the inside of his lips. Better they pierce his own skin than the skin of his master, and the taste of blood wasn’t too bad once he got used to it.

Ugh. He needs to bathe.

Ventis focused on shutting down his need to breathe. He wouldn’t (couldn’t) choke, thanks to his elemental ancestry. That didn’t stop his throat from burning at the slight stretch. He clenched his fists in his lap.

Dwen let out a shaky groan, his hands grabbing for his horns to pull him even closer. “He’s… cold,” Dwen said with a chuckle. “Even on the inside. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“An air genasi quirk,” Athos quipped. “Not every man’s cup of tea, but I find it quite enjoyable. If it’s too bothersome I have a fix for that.”

Ventis couldn’t help but whimper at the thought. The ‘fix’ in question involved him chugging scalding hot water. He hadn’t been able to swallow without pain for a week after the last time.

“It’s alright. He’s plenty tight, so I don’t mind it.”

Thank the gods.

Luckily, Dwen didn’t last long. The men Athos lended him to rarely did. As awful as his situation was, Ventis found himself somewhat prideful of his skill in this area. He couldn’t step outside on his own, but at least he could deliver a world-shattering orgasm in mere minutes when he needed to.

He returned to his place in front of Athos, subtly stretching his sore knees as a nearby servant rushed over to fix his hair and wipe his face clean and polish the fingerprints off of his horns. Ventis’s tongue ran over the twin spots inside his upper lip where his fangs had inevitably pierced the skin. The blood masked Dwen’s taste well. Still, he was grateful when Athos offered him a sip of wine.

The guests left soon after, leaving Ventis and Athos alone. Ventis looked up at his master, unable to stop himself from glaring at the man.

“I asked you if you wanted it,” Athos said with a shrug. “You didn’t say no.”

The two spent the next couple of hours outside in the garden, in a sitting area under the shade of a tree. Ventis allowed himself to enjoy it - the taste of fresh fruit on his tongue, the sounds of wind rustling leaves and soft flutter of Athos turning the pages of his book, the scent of roses. Seated at his master’s feat like always, Ventis rested his head against his thigh and closed his eyes, clinging to the sliver of peace.

Ventis heard a servant appear and have a short conversation with Athos, but he didn’t care to decipher the words. The servant left and Ventis started to drift off, lulled towards sleep by Athos’s fingers in his hair.

Then, “Ah, the young Lord Riinturuth returns!”

Ventis sat up straight with a jolt, his eyes snapping open. There, escorted by the butler, was his younger brother, Theodore. Ventis squinted at him, curious about why he had returned after that awful dinner, but Theodore made a point of not even glancing in his direction. His eyes were on Athos alone.

“Come, sit down! What brings you back to my humble manor, my Lord?”

Anyone else would find Athos’s voice nothing aside from welcoming, but Ventis knew better. He knew that edge of caution hiding under his words.

Theodore sat in a plush chair and the butler poured him a glass of wine. “Please, just call me Theodore, Mr. Landleigh. There is no need for formalities with me. I come to you today as little more than a student.”

Ventis resisted the urge to snort. Theodore was never the ‘student’ type. He’d always been more interested in hunting and fighting and honing his magic.

“Oh? You intrigue me, Theodore. Do go on.”

“Well, I have a request for you. You are an influential person in this city, which is why my father wanted us to have dinner together at the start of my stay here. But the truth is, he looks down upon those who find their power through economic pursuits. To him, business is too fickle of a thing to rest your legacy on.”

Athos hummed, displeased.

“But I could not help but respect you, sir,” Theodore pressed on. “Being born into power is one thing, but having the ability to take it for yourself? To me, that is much more impressive. My time in Nimbria was only meant for me to study leadership with the Venturas, but I believe it would benefit me to learn from you as well. If you will have me, I would love to observe your business practices from time to time. And in return I can promise that your business will always have a friend in my kingdom’s ports.”

Athos considered Theodore with a raised brow. “And you are certain that this proposition has nothing to do with your long lost brother here?” Athos’s hand rested atop Ventis’s head.

Theodore’s eyes flicked to Ventis for a second before he fixed his gaze on Athos once more. “I can assure you, sir, that he means nothing to me. It is thanks to his absence from home that I was able to ascend to my position as our father’s heir. Our shared past will cause no issue.”

Athos hummed, absentmindedly stroking Ventis’s hair as he thought. “Very well. I have no children of my own, so maybe it will do me some good to have an eager young mind to shape.”

“Thank you, sir. You will not regret this.”

The two sat and chatted for a while as Ventis tried to come to terms with the fact that his brother would be coming by even more after this. Had he not been humiliated enough already?

“Ventis, go fetch more wine,” Athos said after he and Theodore had finished off what was left of the previous bottle.

Ventis stood with a short nod and walked inside.

Moments later, as he was just passing through the doorway into the servant’s corridors, a hand grabbed his arm. He gasped sharply as the fingers dug into bruises. Ventis turned, his eyes going wide when he saw his brother staring back at him.

“Jasper,” Theodore said, his voice low. “I’m here to rescue you.”

Ventis took a small step back, shaking Theodore’s hand off of his arm. Why was everyone trying to save him all of a sudden? More importantly, why would Theodore want to save him? They’ve always been rivals. Theodore said himself just earlier today that Ventis’s absence had been good for him. Ventis couldn’t believe for a second that Theodore actually cared what happened to him. His actions five years ago had proven that all too well.

How was Ventis supposed to believe that the very same person who had singlehandedly ruined his life actually wanted to help him?

Theodore definitely saw the blatant disbelief and confusion on Ventis’s face. He leaned in closer, dropping his voice even lower.

“Listen, brother. While you are still under Landleigh’s thumb, Onthyes Ventura will not train me, and that is the entire reason I am in this city in the first place. I am helping you whether you want me to or not, so I suggest you make this easy on both of us and not be so fucking stubborn for once.”

Ventis’s heart stopped.

“Onthyes is alive?”

Those were the first words he had spoken in days. They came out as a broken whisper. A tiny sliver of hope in a world that had seemed so dark for so long.

Theodore looked taken aback. “Yes, of course he is.”

“I…” Ventis sunk to the ground, squatting on his heels and threading his fingers through his hair. His breaths came with far too much difficulty and his vision blurred. “I thought he was dead.”

Suddenly, everything was different. There was hope. And Ventis didn’t know what to do with it. He choked out a sob, covering his face with both hands.

“Jas- Ventis?” He could feel Theodore getting closer and squatting down in front of him.

“How?” Ventis croaked. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“After he failed to rescue you, his guard friends knocked him out and left him there. They didn’t kill him.”

“I-If you’re lying, Theo-”

“I’m not lying. He can’t come to see you himself, obviously, so I’ve come in his place. I will get close with Landleigh, and at the first opportunity I will get you out of here. But you have to work with me. You have to trust me.”

Ventis glared at Theodore through his tears. “Trust you? After what you did to me? Are you joking?”

Annoyance flashed across Theodore’s face before he schooled his expression back into neutrality. “You’re still on about that? It was five years ago. I was fourteen. Grow up and move on.”

“Move on?” Ventis hissed. “That would be easy for you, wouldn’t it? You’re not the one who…” he trailed off, not wanting to say the word. They both knew what it was anyway, and it hung between them, unspoken.

Died.

“You came out fine in the end,” Theodore muttered. “I am not responsible for the way you decided to cope.”

Ventis glared at the wall behind Theodore. “I do not want your help.”

“You do not have a choice. Onthyes is useless to me without you.”

Theodore extended a hand down to Ventis. Ventis glared at it, then rose to his feet on his own.

“Like it or not,” Theodore continued, “I am currently your only hope of seeing him again. I can not force you to cooperate with your own rescue, but I would encourage you to think it over.”

With that he left Ventis alone, headed for the exit. Ventis took a moment to collect himself, scrubbing tears away with his sleeves, before he resumed his journey to the wine celler.

When he returned to Athos’s side with a fresh bottle the man’s eyes searched his face immediately. Ventis glanced away with hope that he wouldn’t notice his watery, red rimmed eyes.

Athos took Ventis by the chin, forcing his face up towards his own. There was a little smile on his face as he brushed his thumb across Ventis’s bottom lip.

“You look beautiful today, treasure,” Athos said gently.

“Thank you, master.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

I'm sorry this one took so long omg. I'm at a point in this story where I just want to skip to the recovery but I gotta get there first, so I keep writing scenes for the future because that's more exciting to me right now. Luckily, that means I'm impatient and Ventis is probably going to get out in the next chapter or two! Yay!

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet

@sleepyiswhumping @bitchaknso @unicornbeck @wounds-seen-and-unseen @3-2-whump

@looptheloup @rainydaywhump

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wildbluesorbit · 10 months ago

Text

Wounded II || JTK

…A Continuation of London

18+MDNI

Paring: Jakexreader(f)

LONDON SERIES MASTERPOST

A/N: It’s arrival is finally upon us… so sorry it only took three weeks:( I promise the wait was worth though; out of the whole series, this installment was my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE to create !! Shoutout to @tommie-gvf for editing:) I am beyond excited to hear what y'all think!

i didn't notice the last 2k words cut off (x)

Summary || Navigating through the aftermath of your argument, you can’t bring yourself to face Jake.

Content Warnings || toxic relationship, agoraphobia, haphephobia, explicit depictions of night terrors/panic attack, brief mentions of anger and physical aggression and bodily harm and murder/death and sexual assault, verbal aggression, reckless/distracted driving, brief mention of drug use, unsolicited touched, allusions to depressive and isolative episodes, [non-aggressive] unannounced entry into readers bedroom, a very brief boner lol

Word Count || 7.2k

— JAKE —

You wince at the strain of your stiff muscles propped against her bedroom door, eyes accosted by the morning light. The sequence of how the cold hard floor became your bed for the night is less than clear. Your only clues, the taste of liquor and guilt still bitter on your dry tongue, you are most likely the asshole.

You will your aching body upwards, the pounding in your head follows your first step. You accomplish the odyssey that is the hallway to your bedroom and start on your appearance for the studio; the account of the night before depositing itself moment by moment as you ooze about your room.

Still couldn’t get your puppy out of her little cage?

You cringe as you brush your teeth and fight your tangled tresses to loop into a low bun, a tangible distraction to repress the clawing conviction.

I heard she won’t even let you pet her.

A huff escapes you as you slip on your socks and step into your boots. You grab your coat, intent on heading downstairs, but you instead find yourself not strong enough to withstand the gravity and accomplish your trek to the stairs; slave to the magnetic field of her bedroom door. You try to sketch out some impression of last night’s details, but clarity refuses to reveal itself to you. You study the ridges of the wooden frame and grumble to the clueless girl you pray is comatose on the other side.

The sound of your older brother calling you from downstairs breaks your spell as you shuffle towards the source.

The guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me.

Don’t you think you’ve carried this weight way too far?

Thick eyebrows furrow in your direction as a baffled Josh canvasses your face for any indication as to why you struggle to recite a simple breakfast order; your disconcerting recollections jerking you by the reins in and out of disassociation. You almost wish you could remain inviolable in your amnesic ignorance.

When are you going to stop being so apathetic towards this?!

You shake off your shame as you put aside the freshly delivered food on the kitchen counter for her to find after she wakes up. You lock the front door after Josh walks through and take a deep cleansing breath before you step into your car, knowing you can’t take this baggage to the studio with you.

You don’t get to speak to me this way.

I’ll be out the door.

Your twin yells over the roar of the rumble strips from the passenger seat as you stray into the shoulder, “Jake?! The road!”

Fuck you, Jacob.

Just another thing you have yet to do.

You plug in at the studio, butchering and tripping over riffs of your own design.

The completely broken and mortified look you painted on her face.

The vision curses you blunderingly dumbfounded.

“Okay, let’s take a quick five,” Josh says over his brother’s instruments while silently interrogating you from across the booth.

You mentally rewind to realize you had completely missed your entrance.

An aggravatingly tone-deaf Sam challenges the sudden hiatus, “But we just started?”

Josh blusters his youngest brother a look that threatens unbridled rage.

A sympathetic Danny steps in to rescue a clueless Sam from Josh’s wrath, “Sam, want to go get high?”

Like dangling shiny keys in front of a toddler, Sam’s attention is now fixated on Danny’s proposal. The two giggling men giddily scurry out of the booth up to no good. As soon as the exit door swings shut Josh stomps over to you, rolling his eyes.

He unpacks his authoritative older sibling's tone as his hands wildly comb through the air for your confession, “Okay, enough moping, out with it.”

You don’t even bother armoring a defense. You know very well you would end up confiding in Josh sooner or later. You ineptly unload every detail you can extract from memory in an iniquitous admission to your twin.

You haven’t even finished speaking your closing statement when a pinching sting burrows against your skin as a result of Josh’s backhand assailing your bicep. You hiss through pressed lips and rub over the infliction with your opposite hand, yet you don’t dare challenge the considerably clement treatment.

“You are such a prick sometimes, I swear,” Josh professes through gritted teeth.

You’re so consumed by your guilt you can’t even concoct an offense.

“Do you think she's going to leave- Fuck, I would never speak to me again,” you answer your own question.

Your pleading eyes frisk over Josh’s identical features, hungry for some kind of reprieving answer. Yet his same honest spirit that knots and kneads your stomach is the same one that always gravitates you towards Josh for counsel in the first place.

“I can’t answer that for you, but I think it's important you at least give her enough distance to think clearly,” Josh dismally warns.

Your thumb and middle finger start at the crease of your eyebrow and rub outwards to your temples, tugging at your skin till your fingertips reach your hairline and fall through your tied-back strands, “Did I fuck this up, Josh?”

You almost wish you couldn’t read his expression of pessimism as Sam and Danny reenter the studio, bursting at the seams with a laughter that you can’t even fathom in this moment. Their giggles cut right through your exchange with your twin. Josh squeezes your shoulder and gives you a smirk of consolation before resettling himself in his designated portion of the booth. His way of wordlessly telling you to keep your chin up and you’d discuss it later.

You try your best to adjourn your sins for now as you know it is time for studio work and studio work only, yet still stumble and topple through every note without a hint of grace until the very last beat of the session.

—YOU —

”Went to the studio, will be back late. Enjoy your day -J “

Jake’s handwriting on the cardboard coffee cup sleeve informs you of his whereabouts. You inhale deeply, allowing the sweet soothing aroma of your favorite roast to sweep you to a better day. You are also embraced with an alluring savory scent. You restively snatch the small paper bag on the kitchen island that rests against your drink to discover an entirely different note.

“p.s. Jake bought you a muffin too but I got hungry :) - the other J”

You smile to yourself and unfold the crinkled brown bag to discover the comfort of your favorite grilled chicken caprese sandwich. You giddily scurry back to your room to start your day.

You’ve found that making lists and organizing your time usually helps your mind from wandering where it shouldn't. So, you do just that. You make your lists. You order things low in stock around the house. You check your emails.

You know you should close your laptop once you finish your clients’ work. Yet you find your mouse hovering over a new search bar. Foolishly, the hunt for apartments has begun with only a few clicks; knowing damn well you threatened your leaving in anger and don’t plan on going anywhere.

But as you scroll through listing after listing you begin to feel like maybe it could be time to leave and move on. Maybe you are suffocating everyone, but they can’t bring themselves to tread through your undoubtedly trauma-infested waters, hoping sooner or later you’ll fall off like a rotting limb. Or maybe the problem isn’t you but your lack of a clean slate. Maybe Jake ties you to the root of the tragedy just as much as he shelters you and grounds you in its aftermath.

Instinctively, your monitor is slammed shut as your breath begins to flee from you. Even if this is true you can't make a decision based on some childish blurt. This would take genuine rumination. Which you are incapable of, considering you aren’t a hundred percent sure this isn’t some impulsive ammunition aimed at Jake.

You sweep your consciousness clean and distract yourself with other productivity. You journal and read and wander around till you’d find a guitar. You do whatever you can to keep yourself busy.

Before you know it, the day turns into a week. You had been going to bed early before the boys got home so you really hadn’t spoken to anyone. You hadn’t even been purposely avoiding Jake, but space is what you keep telling yourself is best for the both of you since the other night.

It is only five in the afternoon when you hear car doors slam in the driveway from where you have been stuck in the same book for hours in the library. You instinctively shut the hardback with a smack and fly upstairs.

Even though it has been over a week, you aren’t yet ready to talk to Jake. You have certainly forgiven his assailment but you hadn’t yet figured out how to face him or his words. So you tuck yourself away in your room, never to be seen.

That is until you hear a light knocking at your door a few hours later.

You freeze, careful to not make a sound. You hope that silence will discourage whatever suitor is on the other side, enough to leave you alone.

“It’s just me,” you hear Josh’s voice travel through your room.

Still cautious, you impugn before moving a muscle, “Yes?”

“It's okay, Jake’s not here,” he says flatly.

You exhale in relief but still inch the door open slowly. You guardedly investigate to discover it is, in fact, Josh and only Josh. You still greet him with narrowed eyes.

“You can relax, sunshine, the man is on a liquor run,” Josh reassures you.

You are accosted by his bugging eyes till he gestures to the slight gap in the doorway, “Can I come in or-?”

You ostensibly inspect him, “All right but I’m going to have to pat you for any wires.”

Josh throws his head back in a quick sharp laugh as he welcomes himself into your room, “Ha! Don’t threaten me with a good time, sunshine. But I would not spy for Jake. I’m strictly here on third-party business.”

He makes himself comfortable on your bed and sits resting against your headboard; something you’ve always admired about Josh is his ability to make home anywhere and draw close to anyone.

Once he settles, he sets your pillows against the wall next to him and smacks his hand against your comforter a few times, ushering you to join him on your own bed. You roll your eyes with a smile and jump onto your designated spot next to him.

You force a cheeky smile, “So to what do I owe this displeasure?”

He places his hands over his chest and feigns an offended gasp, “Well, I was just coming to check on you.”

You remind yourself that you are safe with Josh and it's only his way of showing he genuinely cares when he places his hand over yours. It's like running against the wind, but it's all you can do to not shudder and immediately pull away.

His speech carries concern as he lightly squeezes your hand, “I haven’t seen you in a few days. Is that on purpose?”

You tense a bit at the directness of his question, “Not really. You have just been going into the studio early and staying out late recently.”

“Well, just remember isolation isn’t good for anyone and-”

“Josh-,” you start but he sings over you to finish his sentence.

“...and we miss you,” he lovingly interjects.

Your words come out sharper than you intend, “We? Who’s we?”

“Yes, we.” he mimics your satire, “Me, Danny, Sam, and especially Jake.”

“Well, obviously not too much if it's you here and not him,” your tongue instinctually retorts.

“He doesn’t want to suffocate you is all, believe me, he certainly misses you,” Josh rolls his eyes, making you curious about Jake’s behavior after your argument.

“Sunshine,” Josh cuts directly to his inquiry tired of tip-toeing, “What happened the other night?”

“Please,” you almost snort, “I’m convinced you and Jake secretly compare bowel movements. Don’t act like he didn’t already tell you every detail.”

“I mean he did,” Josh confesses, “I just want to hear what you have to say and see how you’re feeling. It might help you to talk about it.”

“Also, you’re gross,” he blurts and narrows his eyes.

“As much as I totally want to relive your brother’s cruel words, Josh, I trust Jake told you everything like it happened but-,” you hesitate, the realization you might not like the answer just now seeping heavy into your bones, “what happened at the bar? Between Danny’s call and Jake's temper, I can tell something wasn’t right.”

Josh’s features drop with his shoulders and an exhale, “He didn’t tell you?”

You see an indiscernible visage dart across his features after you shake your head no. You recognize it as condolence as he carefully recounts that night in every stomach-knotting detail; depicting a very doleful Jake, a “bitch-for-brains loudmouth” as Josh put it and her insolent tears at Jake, followed by his solemn exit and dodged phone calls.

Your heart writhes from its relocation in the pit of your stomach, almost sick at the thought. Your inability to leave the house is now bleeding into all aspects of his life and polluting his liveliness you loved so; a light that has seen you through the ugliest dark.

Josh frees you from the quicksand of your spiraling thoughts with a fragmented one of his own, “He waits for you, you know?”

He must read the confusion on your face as he rephrases, coloring in the empty lines with a bit more context, “Every night- Jake- He’ll always have this stupid giddy look on his face when he tells us the good news that you should be joining that evening. And I know my brother, he genuinely believes it. I can tell he’s not being optimistic or even humoring himself, or you. Then when he shows alone, he’s never angry or upset. He’ll just tell us you were too tired or weren’t feeling up for the outing. But I swear to you- his eyes never leave the door. Even if distracted, his body is always facing the entrance. He’ll never admit it- I’m not even sure if it's a conscious habit, but he always holds out hope that you’ll show up. We all do- just can’t hold a flame up to him. I have yet to hear him speak a bad word of you or complain of your absence. He has such faith in you, more than I think you realize, and I have yet to see it dim. I’ve never seen Jake so far gone in love with someone and he only wants to see you grow.”

Your mouth opens to speak but all words seem 10,000 miles from your horizon. Your eyes begin to pool as you try to grab at any response, his last words poisoning any other ideations. Neither Jake nor you had spoken a word of “I love you” to each other since that harrowing night, much less did he mention being in love.

You want to ask Josh a thousand questions of what he meant by that. What has Jake said? What has Jake done? How does he know for certain? You have to leave now, right? Wouldn’t that be the selfless thing to do? Yet, you can’t vocalize one.

The debut of your salty streaming eyes ushers Josh to reel in his sermon, “Look- you don’t have to say anything- unless you want to. I definitely want to hear but I don’t want to pry. And I don’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I’m just trying to give him some credit and it's something I thought you should take into consideration. Just in case you felt as if that might be impeding you. So when you do return, that's one less thing off your plate. I promise no one will look at you differently. We're all just so eager and ready to have you back by our side again.”

His immediate addition is an exact echo of his brother, “No rush though. You do what feels right, sunshine.”

You swipe at your glossy cheeks and only nod in understanding, still unable to grasp a word.

“Alright, I also just wanted to let you know we have a flight in the morning and we’re out of town for the next few days,” he steers the conversation in a less hazardous direction.

“So you’ll have the house to yourself,” he playfully wags his finger in your face, “and no ragers, young lady. I mean it!”

“No promises, but I’ll see you when you get back,” you pucker your lips, caperingly blowing him a kiss.

“Unless you want to be a stowaway? No one would stop you,” his eyes grow wide along with his smile; the same one that always grants you such safety when it appears on his twin.

You lark, “But then when would I have my party?!”

“Ah, clever girl,” he accepts his defeat.

Josh takes liberty and scoots down to lay cozy in your bed, indicating he is going to regale you with his illustriously dazzling conversation. And he does. You catch up with each other on your weeks and he tells you what they plan to do on their trip. You ask him how Sam and Danny are doing, and then Jake.

Just as he's illustrating an anecdote of some embarrassing and eccentric stunt Sam pulled to infuriate Jake today, you hear the heavy steps of tired boots coming up the stairs.

Josh’s story is totally derailed by his twin, “He sure is heavy-footed for someone so small.”

“You know you’re just as-” you start.

“For my whole life, unfortunately,” he shakes his head in a faux grief.

“Well, we have an early start and I was told I can’t be late this time,” he rolls his eyes, “I better head to bed.”

Josh exuberantly springs from the mattress to his feet and theatrically bows in a goodbye, knowing better than to attempt any sort of embrace.

He pulls away to make eye contact, “Be right back, call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you throw him one last jest, “Have a safe flight and don’t forget Sam’s leash!”

“Please, he’s Danny’s pet, not mine,” he scoffs and saunters towards the door, “goodnight, sunshine, love you.”

You tell Josh goodnight and return his love before he winks you goodbye and gently shuts your door, disappearing behind it.

You giggle as the sounds of him dramatically stomping down the stairs in a motion to Jake’s prior thuds through your room.

That night, sleep hides itself away from you. Josh’s words chase each other, crashing and rattling around your head like a pack of rabid wolves. With each passing second you can’t help but think of the warm-bodied man down the hall from you.

Is he fast asleep, unbothered by you? Is he awake? Is he thinking of you too? Does your presence burden him? Is he fighting the urge to come see you? Is your name on his lips?

Your racing thoughts are broken by the trudging of a sleepy, no doubt grumpy, Jake.

The footsteps travel from his room and seem to concentrate as they get closer to your door, until directly in front. You hold your breath as you hear Jake mutter something and hiss in frustration. You’re only able to make out his last words as they barrel from his throat.

“Please, just- be here when I get back,” he implores the silence of an empty hallway.

Your chest pounds erratically, your heart threatening to escape its cage. It’d only been a week but you don’t realize how much you ached for him until your bones entered a state of conniption at the sound of his slumber-rasped voice.

You know he assumes you’re asleep and these words aren't yours to hear. You can’t help but wonder if this is the first night he’s addressed your inanimate door. Your malaised heart sings a mourning song to the resentful tune of Jake’s boots dragging him towards the stairs and away from you.

A decent night’s sleep still refuses to slip into your covers with you, so it's the sun that puts you to bed. The next few nights prove the same. You try your best to fix your sleep pattern, performing laborious tasks during the day to tire yourself out but it renders useless.

You refuse to take any kind of relaxant, as the haze always takes you back to a sensation you never want to return to. You aren’t sure if it's Josh’s words or another bad storm on your horizon, but you have become an insomniac.

It has only been 4 days, but each one is a bit more challenging than the previous; today rains over you like a hailstorm.

You don't want to get out of bed. You don’t want to get up to use the bathroom. You don’t want to shower or get dressed. You don’t even want to eat.

You have no wants, only musts.

You must get up, must relieve yourself, must shower, must dress, and you must eat. Or you will not survive. You will die here, swallowed whole by nothingness. No one is here to tell you what to do. No one is coming to your rescue.

Something different. Routine is a consistent companion until it is your cage.

A break. You convince yourself you need an unfamiliar happening to overwhelm your senses. An affair to shock you back to your feeble bubble of fleeting stability. A change in scenery.

You find yourself in a hysteric pace around that front door. There is nothing to lose at this point. No one here to witness if you fail. Everyone’s words run through you.

There is no rush.

But there is. You are already behind. This house is running out of oxygen. You are already rotting here. This habit will soon blur into home.

You take a deep breath and turn the knob. Not daring to chart with eyesight first, you fling yourself through that open door as if at any moment you might be sucked back inside.

The air enwraps you, brisk and cool. The undeniable fragrance of a distinct autumn breeze interrupts its commute, reminding you of how miserable you’ve been without it. Your sight is allured by your new porcelain shade in the sun; you have prodigiously neglected your melanin to a pallid skin tone you’ve never worn before.

You propel forward, telling yourself to just keep moving. You secure your place at the end of the extensive driveway and unwisely decide you can make it down the sidewalk.

You should know better than to think you could outsmart panic without strategy. You feel storm clouds roll in thick all around you; and wherever there’s rain, thunder is sure to follow.

Suddenly the boundless reaches of the stratosphere isn’t enough to save you from the suffocation of the world crumbling fast around you. You pivot until you’re barreling back down the path you came. You almost lunge through the door and lock yourself back inside.

You gait about the living room performing your breathing and self-soothing exercises. All children’s play in the wake of your hijacking terror. You eventually catch your breath but the tremors bond with you.

Whatever was eating at you earlier was only amplified by your brief spontaneous journey outside of the house. But you had foolishly led the demon inside with you, it is now clawing at the walls and howling throughout the halls.

You search for sleeping pills having no hope to rest organically tonight, accepting their necessity to your survival. You only look at your bed before deciding it's not even worth the noble fit of tossing and turning. You make sure you are ready for bed before scurrying into Jake’s room and crawling under his sheets. Yet you still can’t shake the feeling of a lurking apparition.

However, the ingested medication now emanating throughout your bloodstream is impervious to your stalking condemnation. You anchor your antidote to the soothing aroma of Jake present in his bedsheets as you are shoved into void.

You recognize the alley as soon as you are there. Beads of frigid rain pelt against your pink achy skin. The crying sky creates a misty halo against neon lights and coats everything it dances upon with a bleary gloss.

You are pinned against the wall in an instant by that vicious and nauseating smile. You try to fight but all at once you are being poked and prodded and beaten into an involuntary submission. Until your rescuer arrives.

Too enervated to attempt escape as your oppressor is distracted, Jake lunges forward. Yet he never makes contact before he falls to the ground, a dark red dye seeping from his center into his clothes. You somehow escape your attacker to see him wielding a blade.

You run to where Jake is withering away on the glittering asphalt. You attempt to cradle him, but he hisses at your touch.

Despite his wounds, he is the one to console you, telling you you’re perfect like he always does. Your only power remains in a helpless squeeze of his hand as he pours out onto the slick black top and you see his light flicker out.

– JAKE –

The headlights of the car illuminate your home sweet home as the chauffeur pulls up the driveway. The incline of the path almost causes light to leak into her bedroom window, where you hope she is fast asleep, deep enough that she won’t be bothered by the slight brightness.

You got home two days earlier than expected and you plan on surprising her in the morning.

God, how you have ached for her, lit yourself on fire for her; all to let it sift through your grasp over some drunken slurs. You wanted her to have space, but hope tomorrow will hold mercy for you as you can’t restrain yourself any longer.

The driver reaches the house and Josh and you exhaustedly crawl out of the vehicle. You retrieve your luggage before sluggishly dragging it and yourselves to the front door. You swear you grow weary with each second of jangling keys as Josh absentmindedly sifts through each metal shard; standing helpless till he feels the right shape in his hand. The click of the lock barely registers as you are greeted by the cool A/C of the foyer and the smell of home.

All vitality spent on your journey, neither of you has spoken a word since you landed. As you start to head your separate ways, you bid each other goodnight through a silent nod.

Only for it to be ambushed by her petrifying heart-grating scream, “JAKE?! JAKE?!”

One might only assume you’re prey to predators the way you instinctively soar to the stairs, up to your level, and towards her room. Without a word, you hear Josh’s footsteps apace behind you.

You almost slam into her door moving so fast. You swing it wide open, mouth agape as she is nowhere in sight. Your heart pounds in your temples as panic now starts to clamp tight around your chest. The only other time you recall this measure of a corrosive dread being the night you couldn’t find her anywhere at that party.

“JAKE?!”

Another scream immediately reveals her location to you. You dart out of her room, down the hall, and into yours.

There she is. Under the warm glow of your salt lamp-lit room, wrapped in your covers, leaking eyes scrunched shut, a lump of muffled indiscernible murmurs and whimpers, and visibly shaking.

“I think she is just having a nightmare,” you authoritatively order Josh out of the room, “I’m going to wake her, but you should go, I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

You pad towards the bed and caress whatever limb you contact first, buried underneath your blankets. Gently, you begin to coo her to consciousness.

She springs to life, petrified by your unrecognizable silhouette under the poor lighting and only just emerged from her dream state. Clumsily, she slips off the bed and tumbles to the floor, disoriented and gasping for air.

The thud from her spilled limbs on the hardwood floor nearly syncs with yours, as your knees plunge to the cold surface the moment you register her fall.

You place your palms visibly out to her, indicating her safety, “Hey- It’s me. It's Jake. I’m home.”

“No- Jake- you- he- he’s gone,” she bewilderedly sobs out almost in a question.

You aren’t sure if she is referring to your trip or something she saw in her dream and is convinced is reality.

You keep trying to rip her from whatever hallucination has its jaws around her, “No, baby, you're safe. You’re home with me, in Nashville. I got in early.”

She finally seems to digest your words, her glassy eyes [partially] pacified by your newly registered presence before whispering your identification, “Jake?”

When it comes to her, your first instinct is always a consoling touch, but you have learned an unsolicited embrace only runs her further from your protection. However, you have to try.

“Yes, babygirl,” you reassure before you approach, not wanting to spook her, “can I come near you?”

You’re astounded when she only responds by leaping into your lap and wrapping herself around your torso.

Within an instant, your arms have gratefully found their seal around her waist. Your calloused fingertips ever so slightly sink into her buzzing flesh, wrestling with every muscle, willing yourself not to tear her apart. How have you starved for the shape of her, the weight of her, the warmth of her very skin. Fuck- to finally hold her again feels so fucking good.

“Jake- this time- and- he got you- then you-,” she fights through stuttering breaths.

“Hey, no more of that,” you gently assert to sedate whatever terroristic figments are plaguing her in your arms, “I’m here now. I've got you.”

Still trembling, she nuzzles her face into your neck and hysterically rasps out, “Jake, please don’t leave me. I can’t- Jacob, I love you. I can’t lose you. I can’t take it!”

You have no idea as to what she saw in her nightmare, only that you have never seen one leave her this rattled. You can feel her at war with her own breath as her panic continues to steal it from her.

A trick from the therapist resurfaces and you take the dips of her waist within your firm grasp to briefly withdraw her from your embrace, “Hey, I’ve got you, but I need you to listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on what I’m saying, okay?”

You don’t wait for her to respond before taking her hand and running it across the material of your blue corduroy jacket, “You feel that? It's your favorite jacket of mine, the one you always steal when we go for a drive.”

You ever so slightly draw yourself back in closer to her, “I need you to take a deep breath. Smell that? It’s the cologne you bought me for my birthday?”

She concentrates on her inhalation, occupied with taking an exaggerated breath. She slowly begins to nod.

You can see the sensory stimulation starting to ground her so you attempt to redirect her focus, “And what did I promise? I need to hear you say it.”

She takes a long shaky breath, “You- You said no more leaving. You promised.”

You place her jaw safely within the shelter of your palm and press your forehead to hers; without warning, you’re captivated by a time of exigency to live off the same breath as her.

“That’s right, and I’m here now and I’m not leaving you again,” you vow.

You scoop her back into your arms and off the floor. She clings to you as you turn off the lamp and cradle her back into the fortress of your bed, curling up around her for safekeeping.

You caress and console and coo until finally, her quaking stops and breathing evens out as she is welcomed back to slumber. The rhythmic rising and falling of her rib cage underneath your touch lulls you into your own dormancy.