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vnti-vntiety-recs · 10 months

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Destruction In My Mind 2 (M)

★ PAIRING: Toxic! Stalker! Jaemin, Switch! Jaemin x Reader/Mentions of Reader x Mark

☆ WORD COUNT: 10k

★ GENRE(S): smut, thriller, angst,

☆ SUMMARY: When your relationship spirals out of control with Jaemin, he resorts to kidnapping to keep you all to himself. It's been months since you've been held captive, and Mark is the only one who may be able to uncover the truth of what happened to you.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, manipulation, swearing, various acts of sexual intercourse, hate sex,unprotected sex, DEATH, GUNS, DARK THEMES, YANDERE, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, KIDNAPPING. STALKING, BLOOD, VIOLENCE, CAUTION MFER IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY

☆★ NOTES: (Part 1) I wasn't originally planning on writing a part two to this, but a few people requested it, so I challenged myself to see where I could take the story. Honestly, I don't really enjoy writing about dark themes or angst, but it was interesting. I hope you guys enjoy this, because I'll probably only be sticking to one shot after this.

Today was like every other day for the past few months: dull and unremarkable. It's been months since you last had contact with the outside world. Jaemin would attempt to casually strike up a conversation, like he didn't lock you away in a room away from the rest of the world like an evil stepmother in a fairy tale, except that the very prince who was supposed to save you was the one who locked you away. Ever since Jaemin told you that Mark had stopped by to look for you, you had hoped that maybe someday he would find you, but as the months went on, you began to doubt his efforts. Part of you had actually hoped he would stop searching; you knew it could be dangerous if he got too close.

You would soon learn to trade your silence for forced smiles and fake laughter. Jaemin had promised to leave Mark alone if you entertained his conversations. You hated him. You despised the false compassion he displayed, doting over you when you rejected his meals and insisting you eat something. You hated how he acted sulky when you turned down his offers to watch movies together. You especially hated him for bringing back designer clothes whenever he upset you. What's the point of a designer if there's no one to show them off to?

You think If he wasn't a raging sociopath, he would make a good boyfriend. You could be living your best life if he wasn't easily overtaken by jealousy over the smallest things. Sometimes you indulge yourself in fantasies where he's your sweet boyfriend rather than the monster that imprisoned you.. Reality always hits hard when you find yourself staring at the locked door that keeps you imprisoned.

Some days you hated him to death, and others you found your heart warming up too quickly at the thought of him. It's when he returns from long business trips. Those are the days when your heart is most vulnerable and craves him the most. The day before those long nights away, he would bring you food, filling up your fridge with at least two days worth of food. He bought you every book you had circled from a catalog he brought to you. bringing you anything you requested.

The first time he left you, he even got you a cat to keep you company. When he was away, you would use that time to find an escape, but after hours of prying at your door and window, you would give up. You always end up playing with Luna instead.

After days of being alone with nothing but your thoughts and Luna to keep you company, you would practically crave human contact. On one of those many lonely nights, the thought crept up on you. Maybe this was also a part of his plan; was this a way to break down your defenses as well? If it was, it was working because when you heard the automatic lock to the front door opening and the heavy thud of his bags on the hardwood floor of his highrise condo, you couldn't help but call out to him.

You didn't care about the mind games as you leapt from wherever you were in your room and made your way to your door. He can barely even get it open before you throw yourself into his arms. His smell, his warmth, and his voice all amplified during the time he was away. Those days are the days you melt into him. Those days are the ones you let yourself forget. Those days you let your hands wander. And those days are the same days you go to sleep the most satisfied and wake up the most tormented.

After three days away, Jaemin had returned. You practically threw yourself at him the moment he stepped into your room to check on you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately, before jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You're too preoccupied with pressing yourself against him to notice the cunning smile that kisses your lips. When he doesn't immediately kiss back, you whine into his mouth, and it draws Jaemin back into the moment.

Whatever he was holding clatters loudly against the floor as he drops it in favor of gripping your hips before lowering them to grip your ass. He has you pinned up against the same door he entered as you both hurriedly pull off each other's clothes, laying hot kisses in their wake. You're too impatient to wait any longer, so you haphazardly push his slacks past his hips enough to pull him out of his briefs before you tug your panties to the side. Catching the memo, Jaemin takes over, ripping the crotch of your panties for easier access. You position him at your entrance, and Jaemin thrusts in shallowly. You open your mouth to complain, but Jaemin quickly snaps his hips again. re-entering deeply, effectively shutting you up.

Not a single word has been exchanged since he walked through the door; the only thing filling the room was the harsh slapping of skin and heavy panting as his hips picked up pace. The door soon joined the cacophony of noise as it creaked against its hinges ruthlessly. You came over his length again and again; it was like he was making up for all the days he had left you alone. He didn't stop until he felt your slick heat push him out as you squirted.

The things that happen on the nights you spend with him cause war between the part of you that loves him and that part of you that wants nothing to do with him

You couldn't help but give in to your needs, even though you hated yourself for it. You could never quite reach your peak; your fingers could only take you so far. It didn't help that he would always come to you on those nights in his best suit and sporting his most expensive cologne. He would always tease you, cooing at your wandering eyes as they undressed him. On those nights, he would let you use him until you wore yourself out, leaving him to clean you up. He never stayed the night in your room because he knew that would only make it harder for you in the morning. He knew you hated him for it, but that just made him want you even more.

It felt like a never-ending cycle for you, but lately, even when he wasn't gone, you craved him. He noticed the cracks forming in your hard exterior. He was overjoyed when you started striking up conversations with him, asking him to read a book with you or to play a board game. He hadn't had to beg for your attention lately; he had you exactly where he wanted you.

Or that's what he thought.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Jaemin had entered your room early one morning and gently shook your shoulder to wake you up. You thought he was about to tell you he was leaving on another trip, but instead he sat beside you, petting Luna, while you dragged yourself out of your sheets to sit up properly.

“You've been so sweet to me lately; it got me thinking,” he said. When he stops petting Luna, she leaps from the bed. Your tired eyes follow her as she exits the room through the door.

The open door

Jaemin was never one to leave the door open. He always locked it behind him as he came and went. Jaemin was never one to take chances. Until now, it appears. Your gaze returns to him in anticipation.

"I think you've been locked up in here for too long. You need fresh air…sunlight," he finishes.

He doesn't go on, watching your reaction and testing you with just his words. He waits for you to say something, but you don't. You think you made the right choice because he's smiling now as he continues.

“The house is too big, and it feels lonely sometimes. I was thinking about leaving your door open now so you can roam freely. This house is your home too. I trust you.”

Freely

Being locked in a multimillion-dollar condo above the clouds isn't exactly liberating. You control your reaction. Of course he wasn't going to let you go free; he was probably waiting on you to ask him if he would. You try not to look disappointed in his proposal and return his smile.

“That means a lot, Jaem," is all you can manage as you lean in for a hug, your smile fading the moment he can't see your face.

By free, Jaemin meant limited, which was probably better than what you had. Jaemin's condo was enclosed in large glass windows that let in plenty of light. He also had a sprawling terrace that wrapped around the perimeter of his condo. You were only allowed to spend a maximum of two hours on the terrace with his supervision. You convinced him to buy a hammock and beanbags for you so you could read out there during the summer. You had more room to play with Luna as well. You would run up and down the halls with her toy wand as she chased after you.

This must have been part of his plan to delude you because you almost forgot you were being held captive. You even had access to Jaemin’s room and used his shower from time to time, as it was bigger than the one in your room. It wasn't until he plopped down next to you on the living room couch one evening that you realized how far his trust in you had gone.

He let you know he was going to be gone for the night because he had an overnight business convention he had to attend; he wouldn't be back till morning. It would be his first night away since you were given access to the entire house. He told you the same rules applied and gave you a kiss on the forehead before walking to the front door, where his bags were already waiting, and like always, he leaves without another word.

Just like that, he was gone. You stayed glued to your spot on the couch. He's joking, right? Is this a test? What if he comes back early? A thousand questions are running through your head. YYou do the only thing that comes to mind: you wait. For the first hour, nothing appears out of the ordinary. Another hour passes, and the house remains silent, exactly as he left it. You get up from your seat in the third hour and search the house. You dash for the kitchen; you need a weapon—anything that will give you an advantage.

You searched every cabinet and every drawer, but there was not a knife in sight. You couldn't even find a butter knife. You notice something else is missing just as you close the last drawer. There were no forks either, not even a chopstick. Anything with a sharp point had vanished without a trace. It wasn't until now that you realized that every meal that you were served was pre-cut and prepared. You never even questioned the lack of silverware because you never needed one.

You almost trip over yourself as you hastily make your way to the balcony. You try the handle but realize it's locked. It seemed to have an automatic lock that could only be controlled remotely. Without wasting time, you rush to his office but not a pencil or pen in sight. The bathroom was next, but there was no floss.

You try to calm yourself down, but your frustration with your shortcomings grows. Luna notices your condition and begins to whine and rub herself against your legs in an attempt to comfort you. You don't even notice as tears well up in your eyes and you begin to cry. Luna is gently picked up and cradled in your arms.

“Your daddy is a liar; he doesn't trust me." As you kiss her soft fur, you chuckle bitterly.

In defeat, you make your way back to the living room. You shift your weight to get comfortable on the couch. You're about to re-start the TV when you notice a paper weight on the TV stand beneath it. It's almost hidden among the other trinkets that adorn the surface, but the light from the TV reflects off of it, drawing your attention slightly. You reach for it, and the cool glass warms against your skin. It's a good size and fits comfortably in the palm of your hand. It's a clear glass ball with an angry blue wave frozen in the center, as if captured just before the wave crashed. The wave was at its peak, frozen in time, waiting to crash down, but it never would. In a way, you were just like the angry wave trapped in the glass. You decided this would have to be your weapon. You amble to your room and stuff your makeshift weapon under your pillow. Your spirits were lifted by the minor victory. There was one more thing you wanted to double-check.

There was only one way out of here, technically two, but you don't think Jaemin has enough bedsheets to make a rope that could scale 20 stories. You quickly arrive at the front door and begin to inspect the lock. The lock was identical to that on the balcony door. There was no physical lock to turn to open the door; everything was internal and automatic. The only way to unlock the door was either by the pin code on the outside or, as you guessed, by a phone remotely. He didn't have these locks when you first came to his house.

You take a step back from the door and laugh hysterically as it all begins to make sense. You laugh all the way to your room, where you find the paperweight under your pillow. It was pointless hiding it because he saw.

It was a test.

No sharp items in the house, not even a pencil? All the locks have been changed, and he just so happens to let you out of your room out of the kindness of his heart? Jaemin is not kind, and he's definitely no fool. You were naive to believe that the man who had isolated you in a single room for months and denied you all human contact could possibly trust you. He had to be watching you, and you notice it as you trudge back into the living room. The faint blinking of a red light perched on the high ceiling of Jaemin's highrise. He really was watching you the entire time.

There was no meeting, or maybe there was; at this point, you couldn't trust his word. This was all a test to see if your “good behavior” would last. And just like the naive fool you were, you fell right into his trap.

“I know you're watching me, Jaemin! I'll kill you! I fucking hate you. Do you hear me? I fucking hate you!” You scream and scream at the blinking light until your voice is raw, but the camera doesn't respond; it just blinks mockingly at you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

You awaken to sunlight hitting your face as you stir awake. You must have screamed yourself to exhaustion last night and fallen asleep on the couch. You move to sit up when the cool glass of the paper weight knocks against your skin. You were clutching onto your “weapon” all night, waiting for Jaemin to show up. From your vantage point on the couch, you looked around the apartment, but there was no sign of him The house was as silent as ever. Just as you're about to get up and search the rest of the house, you hear the mechanical gears of the locks on the front door unlocking. You perk up and grab your paper weight, arming yourself as best you can. You wait for Jaemin to walk through the door, but he doesn't.

In your confusion, you slowly make your way off the couch and towards the door. You approach it with caution, expecting him on the other side. You raise your weapon into the air, ready to swing down and strike whoever is on the other side. You swung open the door, but no one was there. In fact, the corridor was unusually quiet. You shuffle out into the hallway, your hair sticking up in all directions, armed only with a paper weight. Real intimidating.

“Jaemin?” You call hesitantly. No response.

You don't care if it's a test, and you don't care if he's watching. This was the closest you have ever gotten to escaping the 3000 square feet you've been confined to. You're booking it down the hall until you reach the next door, and you beat your first against it, calling for help. You're making all the noise you possibly can with whatever voice you have left from screaming all night. No answer, so you move on to the next door. You pound on every door in the corridor, but no one answers. You scream for help as you reach the final door on your floor. You pound on the door mercilessly until you hear a noise from the other side..

“Yes! hello!? Please open the door! I've been kidnapped and i-” you begin, but your begging stops as the door opens, revealing the owner of the condo.

“You’ve been kidnapped? No sweety, what you've been is naughty” Jaemin coos from his spot in the open door.

“Wha-what?” You can't breathe.

So much is happening, Too much is happening, and None of it makes sense as your head spins.

“You silly thing," Jaemin says, casually leaning against the doorframe, ”you know they told me when I had these built that the walls were too thin. I didn't think it would come back to bite me in the ass though,” Jaemin mockingly knocks on the wall closest to you. The hollowness mockingly echoes back at you.

“I don't understand,” you manage.

“I own this building, princess. Everyone on this floor,” he says, taking a step closer.

“the floor below us,” one step closer

“and the floor above us has been relocated.” He stares down at you coolly. “I didn't know how much of a fight you were going to put up, so I moved everyone out a month after I locked you up,” he whispers tauntingly.

"Funny enough, the only screaming you did up until now was when I was-” you turn away before he can finish, humiliated. This whole time, you played right into his hands.

“No point in running, princess; nowhere to go," he laughs.

You ignore him, swiping at the tears that threaten to run down your face. You storm back to his apartment, knowing he's not far behind you because you can hear his footsteps as he follows. He's right, there is nowhere to go, but right now you need to go anywhere he is not. You slam the door in his face angrily when you make it to the apartment, but he catches it and makes his way in behind you.

“You really want to make this worse on yourself, don't you?” he says before reaching for your arm to turn you towards him. The moment you feel his hand enclose around your elbow, you spin on your heels and strike him with the paper weight.

You drop it the moment you realize what you have done. You were angry, you were scared, and you were frustrated with his mind games, but you had no intention of actually hurting him. You acted out of rage; you weren't thinking clearly. You can only stare in disbelief as blood drips from his brow. His head is still slightly bowed from the blow, and he stumbles a little. Blood continues to drip down onto the floor.

"Jaem, I-I didn't mean to; I just-” You didn't know how to finish your sentence.

He finally lifts his head and looks at you, blood dripping into his eye.

“You want to hurt me?"

"No, Jaem i-”

"That's it, isn't it baby? I give you everything, and this is how you repay me."The way he speaks to you holds no warmth as he wipes at the blood staining his perfect skin.

“I didn't," he says, wrapping his bloodied hand around your throat, gripping harshly as he pushes you into the wall. He leans into you, barely a breath away. You almost expect him to kiss you, but instead he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You want to kill me? then do it right.” The next thing you know, he's pushing away from you and releasing your neck. He bends down and picks up your paper weight. He takes your hand in his and places the paper weight in your palm once more.

“Do it.” He stares you down patiently, waiting for your next move. You shake your head as tears roll down your face freely.

“DO IT!” he yelled this time. You cry even harder and shakily throw the paper weight at his chest. You look pathetic, trembling in front of him.

“You want to hurt me, right baby? You want to leave me so bad? Well, the only way you're gonna leave is if you kill me, so do it!” Jaemin spits angrily.

“I won't," you cry.

“And why not?” Jaemin waits for your answer.

“Because I'm not like you!” you yell angrily, pushing at his chest. You pound on his firm chest, your cries becoming weaker with each blow. Jaemin waits for you to relax before grabbing your chin. Jaemin waits for you to calm down before he grabs your chin.

“No, that's not why pretty.” jaemin tuts.

He grips the back of your hair and drags you to the living room's floor-length mirror. He forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your disheveled hair and tear-stained face stare back. Your eyes rake farther down your face until they reach your neck. You gasp in shock.

Right there, sitting prettily against your neck, was a bloody handprint. His bloody handprint possessively stains the skin of your neck. You can almost still feel the ghost of his touch in its wake. Jaemin's other hand trails up your body until he reaches your neck, fingers barely grazing the marks he left, afraid to ruin his work.

“You don't want to hurt me baby, because you're scared to be without me, hmm?” He teasingly whispers in your ear. “You love me, and you don't want to leave me; I can prove it too. I'll tell you a secret."

He breathes down your neck as he turns you towards him and away from your reflection in the mirror.

“Down the hall on the left; there's an emergency staircase; if you take that down, it will lead you right out of here.” He kisses each fingerprint left on your neck slowly so as not to disturb the mark he's left on you. When he's finished, he takes a step back and looks at you, waiting for you to make a move. Your lips quiver, and more tears fall, but you remain still.

“That's my girl,” Jaemin mumbles to himself before kissing you.

You can't do anything but cry harder, but you return his eagerness because he's right. He's right, and you hate him because, just like the handprint on your neck, he's got you in a chokehold. Your hatred seeps into the way you return his kiss. And grip at his hair as he lifts you onto his hips to carry you back into your room. You bite and tug at his lip, none too gently, as you kiss him. As Jaemin enters the room, he "accidentally" bumps your head against the door frame.

"You did that on purpose, asshole." You groan in pain.

“When have we ever played nice princesses?” he smirks before throwing you down onto the bed, making your head hurt even more as you bounce roughly against the mattress.

He's crawling towards you on the bed. You're not done being a brat, so you kick at his chest and shoulder, pushing him away from you. You refuse to make this easy for him, but he just grabs your ankle, pulling you towards him.

“You wanna brat out?"

“When have I ever played nice?” You use his words against him as you struggle more.

He pecks your lips hesitantly, knowing you like to bite, before kissing you deeply, prying your legs apart to settle between them. Just as he expected, you bite into his lip again, but he suddenly grinds deep into you, and you let out a choked moan. You push at his shoulder and try to close your legs to push him away. You were soaking through your panties already, and you knew he would be able to feel it soon. You were wet the moment you saw how pretty his handprint looked painted against your skin. You try to turn away from him and shake your head away from the kiss.

“I hate you,” you mumble against his teeth.

"I know,” he says, kissing your neck.

“You disgust me.” You try again.

“That right?” He slips a hand between your legs, patting against the seat of your panites.

“Because you're soaking princess,” he states, and you can hear the wet sound his fingers make as they make contact with your core.

You're mortified. You try to push him away again, but he grabs your hands with his free hand and pins them above your head. Resting his forehead against yours, you can feel the blood on his forehead begin to grow cold and sticky as it dries from the initial blow. He shushes you gently as he slips his fingers past your panties and into your core.

“Listen to how wet you are baby; I'm the only one who could make you feel like his,” he coos as he fucks you onto his fingers.

“Your all fucking mine, you hear me?” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans while he curls his fingers up into you.

"My fucking pussy,” he mumbles as he licks into your mouth.

“Fuck…you” you gasp in between moans. He releases you as he pulls off completely.

“I've been too good to you, but I forgot sluts like you need to be taught manners.” He stands at the edge of the bed before grabbing your ankles again and pulling you down the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulls your hips off of the bed until your feet are planted on the floor and your upper body is still bent over the bed. He pulls your hands behind your back and holds them there as he delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

"I spoil you too much; that's the problem. Think I won't ruin you?” He presses your arms into your back as a signal to keep them there before he lets them go. He pulls your bottoms off along with your panties and slips his fingers back inside your warm cunt.

"Greedy cunt. Swallowing me so easily. Uh-uh baby, you weren't going anywhere,” you can't see, but he has to bite his lip to hold in the moan that threatened to spill out as you practically dripped down fingers.

He pistons his fingers in and out of you quickly until you're a babbling mess and your thighs begin to shake before he's pulling them out and leaving wet slaps against your cunt. He forces you to count them each time he pulls out and lands another hit against your abused core.

"Don't you dare mess up or else your starting over,” he would threaten when you would stumble over your next number.

"12...13...14...15..." you would count each time he meanly slapped your pussy until he would shove his fingers back inside you. He'd fuck you with his fingers until you're shaking all over again. It wasn't until you got to 20 that he let up.

“I'll ask again, who do you belong to?” you pass the point of comprehensible words as tears run down your face again.

“Don't make me repeat myself,” Jaemin says as he yanks your head up from its place buried in the covers.

"You,” you cry as shivers run down your body.

“And who does this pussy belong to?"

“Nana!” you sniffle.

“That's right, baby.” He releases your hair, and you fall back into the sheets.

“Are you ready to be Nana's good girl now?" He mumbles as he kisses the back of your head.

You nod pathetically.

"Are you sorry for hurting Nana?"

You nod pathetically again.

“Get up there then,” Jaemin slaps you ass as he signals for you to climb back into the bed.

You plop down tiredly at the head of the bed and watch as Jaemin strips himself of his clothes. You think he's going to reclaim his position in between your legs as he climbs back into bed, but he chooses to lie beside you instead.

“Show me how good you are,” he says as he throws your leg over his hip and manhandles you until you're sitting on his waist.

“I can't—please, I can't."

He raises a brow at you, and you know better than to argue, so you lift your hips and sink onto him. He slips inside easily, and he's gripping your hips as he helps you ride him.

“There you go-fuck,” he moans as you lean onto his chest for leverage and begin to throw your hips the way you know he likes.

He looks up at you pathetically, chest heaving, as you ride him just like you did all those nights before. In these moments, he knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and it drives him insane. His arms lay uselessly beside him as he gripped the sheets at the rough pace you chose. You look down at him as the power dynamic starts to change. You knew if you rode him hard enough, he'd start begging like a useless slut. It was moments like these in which you had any control over him. You can feel anger begin to bubble up in your chest at the thought. You despise how weak he made you.

Before you know it, you feel your hands travel from his chest up to his neck as you steal the breath from his lungs. You grip tight as you watch as his eyes begin to roll, and if the way he white knuckles your hips isn't sign enough that he's close, his heaving chest and insistent whines are.

“Your so… such a…fuck.” He struggles, “Good girl,my good-”

He can barely complete a full thought. You're so close, and you're just about to finish when suddenly you're on your back looking up at the ceiling. Your mind is still trying to catch up as you feel nothing but deep harsh thrust s as his hips slam into you. The quick pace creates a fog in your mind and all you can do is take it. You finally meet Jaemin’s eyes and he's completely gone. The power dynamic has been switched again and it was right before you could even finish your fun. Jaemins eyes are hazy as he shivers with each thrust. He leans down to place messy kisses into your mouth that end in him panting against your lips. Still upset that he ended your turn so soon, you wrap your legs around his waist as you drive your hips up into his, meeting his thrust.

Jaemin shakes his head as he attempts to pin your hips back down into the mattress. You challenge him with a nod as you tighten your hold, fucking against him harder. It was just fucking; there was no making love anymore. You're both in a fight for control as you feel your high approach. Soon you're both drunk off the other as you grab, push, and tug at each other selfishly in an attempt to get off. Thrusts have grown sloppy and wild as you arch your back into the sheets when the cord in your belly finally snaps. Your legs finally grow weak as they fall pathetically from around his hips. Jaemin groans at the feeling, and after a few more aggressive shoves of his hips, he's spilling into you. He pulls back to watch as his love seeps out of your abused cunt. He pushes it back in,and the last thing you see before sleep takes you is how he licks his fingers clean at your combined taste.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark vowed to never give up. People told him how ridiculous he was for trying so hard to find someone he only worked closely with for such a short time. For some reason, Mark still felt indebted to you. You did so much for him when he broke his leg and showed him and everyone that you worked with so much kindness; you didn't deserve this. So he never stopped looking.

When Mark learned you had quit your job, he knew something was wrong. You definitely would have reached out to him about it. Not to mention, when he went to check your social media to see if you had updated or hinted at a new job, he found that they had all been deleted. He even did some digging to find your old apartment complex, but when he inquired about you with your old landlord, he was given the cold shoulder.

It was like you were wiped off the face of the planet. His only lead was Jaemin, but it was almost impossible to get close to the guy. Mark was sure Jaemin had something to do with your disappearance; he just had to prove it. He couldn't do this on his own, and there was only one other person he could ask.

Every day for a week, Mark would press Jaehyun to hear him out. He tried every guilt trip, bribe, and threat in the book, but Jaehyun wouldn't budge. Jaehyun had recently gotten promoted a few months after coming back to the office after his wreck. He would use his hectic schedule as an excuse to blow off Mark.

"Dude, please just talk to me; I just need one thing.” Mark begged early in the morning.

“Keep it down; I'm not talking about this right now." Jaehyun sternly reprimanded him.

Mark looked over his shoulder before pushing Jaehyun into an empty conference room.

“You're the only one who can get close to him; you were literally promoted into his department. I just need you to get in close to find out some information.”

“She’s gone. Let it go, for all we know he could have-” Jaehyun pauses. "Listen, drop it; I've already warned you.” Jaehyun huffs frustratedly.

“We won't know until we dig deeper!” Mark argues, “Look, your department just exceeded the projected goal for the year, right? All you have to do is convince your team to host a party at his place in celebration. I don't know; just get in and see if anything is off.” mark pleads

Jaehyun doesn't reply, but Mark takes his silence as a sign to continue.

“The whole department will be there if you sneak off; no one will notice. Once he becomes CEO, you're next in line to take over that department. It would be weird to exclude you, so you would have to go.”

A few beats pass, and Jaehyun sighs in defeat.

“Fine, I'll see what I can do.” Jaehyun breathes.. Just before Mark can celebrate, he continues, “But if nothing comes up, you drop this, alright?” jaehyun bargains

“I promise, I'll drop it.” Mark raises his hands in surrender.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

For the next two weeks, Jaehyun would slip the idea into casual conversations and subtly mention that the department's hard work deserved a celebration. Every now and then, a coworker would suggest going out to drink, but Jaehyun would decline, instead proposing a private party.

“But I mean, who has enough space for that, right?” Jaehyun would joke before another one of his co-workers jumped in to mention Jaemin’s huge condo.

“We should get Jaemin to host it; I heard he's getting a few floors of his building renovated so we wouldn't have to worry about noise.” Seojun added

"Yeah, he always treats us to drinks; I doubt he would mind taking the party to his house this time,” someone else chimes in.

Jaehyun got the entire department talking about it and even got Jaemin’s grandfather to back the idea. As the CEO, he said it would raise morale and show the employees how important they are to the company. He said that once Jaemin became the CEO, he would understand the importance of showing gratitude to his employees. That's how Jaemin was cornered into hosting a cocktail party the following week.

Jaemin mentioned it casually to you, saying you wouldn't be able to come out that night. He'd block off that side of the house, and the party would be hosted mainly on the highrise terrace. You counted the days until the party. If there was any chance of getting someone's help, it would be then.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was the night of the party, and all you could do was press your ear against the wall and listen in on the conversations. You were curious about who showed up; would Mark be there? It was a company party, according to Jaemin. Did that include every department? As you backed away from the door, you huffed in frustration; the voices were too muffled to make out. You wanted to scream for help, but Jaemin warned you against it before he shut you in your room hours before.

You pace your room anxiously. Even Luna got to attend the party! Jaemin said it was because she was well-behaved, unlike you.

It isn't long before Jaemin comes in to check up on you. He slips into the room quickly before shutting the door behind him. He must not be staying for long, because you notice he doesn't bother to lock it.

“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some appetizers from the party.” Jaemin smiles as he hands you a plate of assorted sliders.

"Thanks; I was getting a little hungry.” You laugh nervously as you take the plate from him.

“Is everything okay?" He asked curiously.

It's now or never. You only needed a second, and you had to think fast.

"Actually, I was trying to take a shower, but the facets stuck in the bathroom. Could I take a bath in your room?” You pout at him.

“We have company princess; you'll have to wait." he replies

"Then, can you see if you can turn the knob?” You ask, putting your plate down and gesturing for him to follow you to the bathroom.

He makes a sound of acknowledgement as he follows you to the tub. You stand by the door to the bathroom as he walks past you to inspect the shower. When he's not looking, you quietly turn the lock on the bathroom door. You know it would only stop him for a second, but that's all you needed; you just needed to get in earshot of the party and scream for help.

The shower knob turns easily in his hand, and the shower sputters to life. Just as he looks up at you in confusion, you grip the handle to the bathroom door and shut it behind you as you sprint across your room for the door. Your heart pounds in your chest as you hear him pull against the door to the bathroom. The lock keeps him locked in for a few seconds before he realizes you locked it. You're already out of the room as the lock on the door clicks open. You run down his long hallway, and you turn the corner into the living room. You can see the terrace from where you stand, and it seems as though everyone is outside as they bustle around a table, chatting and drinking as the night continues. You run into someone before you can take another step, their drink clatters to the ground and you look up.

“JAEHY- '' He covers your mouth before you can continue and pushes you back into the hallways, out of view from the balcony. It isn't until you can't be seen that he uncovers your mouth.

"Jaehyun, please, you have to help me." You continue your rambling; you don't even realize he's still pushing you back towards the way you came. “Jaemin is crazy, and he's keeping me here against my will and-” You hit a familiarly firm chest.

“And?” The voice behind you speaks.

All you could do was look up at Jaehyun with hurt and confusion.

“I'm sorry” was all he said before you slung over Jaemin's shoulders and carried back towards your room as Jaehyun followed. You're too stunned to speak.

Just as quickly as you left, you find yourself locked back in your room along with a new guest.

Once your shock wears off, it doesn't take you too long to put two and two together.

“All along… You're working together.” You don't even question it.

"Well, not all along,” Jaemin points out. “His accident was on purpose, but after seeing how obedient he was afterwards, I thought he might be useful."

“He offered me a promotion, and in exchange, I had to make sure the people in the office didn't get suspicious.” Jaehyun interjected, “It was easy until Mark came back; he really doesn't know how to give up.” Jaehyun finishes.

“What is wrong with you? You were my friend!” You yell incredulously. “You sick freak, I thought I knew you!"

You wanted to cry, but you refused to show any more weakness. You would never forgive him for this, and you would never forgive either of them. You wouldn't allow your heart to falter any longer. You despised Jaemin.

“You've made quite the scene, princess." jaemin tsks “We better be getting back to the party, princess, or our guests will wonder where we went. I'll deal with you later, '' Jaemin smirks. He leads Jaehyun out of your room and closes the door behind him.

You're left with your thoughts once again. Jaehyun's betrayal left a gaping hole in your heart. You would never expect him to do something like this; granted, you would have said the same thing about Jaemin. You can only hope that Mark won't let you down.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark stops looking. That Monday after the party, Jaehyun told Mark that nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no sign of anyone else living there, and Jaemin acted normally. With no further leads, Mark decided it was probably for the best to let it all go. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe you did just get a new job and quit. Whatever the reason, Mark hoped you were alright wherever you were.

If only he would have kept digging.

If he had kept prying, he would have found out that later that month, Jaemin moved out of his condo and into a small, inconspicuous house on the outskirts of the city. If he had asked around, he would have found out that one of the guests at the party had seen a glimpse of you as you bumped into Jaehyun, but they would later “quit” as well.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It's been a year since you moved into the new house with Jaemin. Jaemin had decided to move you guys out because of Mark's insistent poking. He also wanted to be farther from the city,less people to worry about. You have lost all hope. You had no fight left in you. What was the point when Jaehyun was right? Who would come looking for you at the CEO of the country's largest corporation’s house?

After the move, Jaemin’s grandfather had been riding his ass even harder about preparing to take over the company, and because of that, he's rarely home. It wasn't until recently that the title was officially handed over. You start to wonder why Jaemin even keeps you around anymore. He's grown far too busy for you now. Some nights, the thought keeps you up. What if the only reason you're still here is because he hasn't found the time to get rid of you yet? Jaemin had gotten two more cats to keep you company, hoping that would make up for his absence.

Sometime in passing, Jaemin mentioned that tonight a gala would be held to celebrate his promotion and commemorate the start of a new era for the company. The entire company would be there; it wasn't an event that he could miss. Once again, he dons his finest suit, wears his most expensive cologne, and styles his hair up away from his forehead. Jaemin always looked the best like this, but your heart didn't beat for him the same way anymore. Your anger and frustration towards him outweigh any feelings you have left for him. He leaves again for the umpteenth time this week without bidding you farewell.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was Mark's first time attending an event of this caliber. The company had rented out a large convention center for the occasion, and it was decorated beautifully. There was a main room with a walking platform near the front that had a podium and screen. That must be where Jaemin would give a speech later. In the room across from it were the food and refreshments, and there was a clear area for dancing and socializing.

He'd been there an hour and Jaemin still hadn't delivered his speech. He spent the majority of his time conversing with various department heads and socializing with coworkers in his own department. He ate from the refreshments table when he wasn't catching up with someone. He had no idea someone had been watching him all night.

When it came time for Jaemin's speech, the party moved to the main room. The lights had been dimmed, and the screen behind the podium displayed various slides of stocks and other information related to the leadership change. It was the first time he'd seen Jaemin all night. As he climbed onto the stage and took the podium, everyone applauded and cheered. Jaemin started his speech, and he was as charming as ever. While everyone was focused on his speech, Mark felt a buzz in his back pocket. Wanting to remain professional in a business setting, he ignored it. It wasn't until the second buzz came through insistently that he decided to slip his phone out of his pocket and check the notification.

There were two unread messages from a private number.

You can find what you've been searching for 1942

(Address attachment)

Mark's breath caught in his throat. Was this a new lead after a year of silence? His brain was telling him to ignore it, be respectful, and put his phone away, but his instincts were telling him this would lead him right to you. He was curious how you were doing after all this time. He feels like he's done nothing but let you down all this time. Not anymore; he wouldn't do it again. The next thing he knows, he's pushing through the crowd to make his way to the exit. As he rushes out, he attracts the attention of a few people, one of whom is Jaemin.

Jaemin was finishing up his speech when Mark left. He had tried to walk down the stage as swiftly as possible without causing a scene. Once he was down from the stage, he had tried to immediately catch up to Mark; he knew something was up, but he was stopped by his grandfather.

“I'm so proud of you son; you're finally stepping up like I knew you always could,” he praises.

“Thank you sir,” Jaemin says humbly, shaking his grandfather's hand.

“Come on now son, enough of the formalities! I've already given you the title of CEO.” The elder laughs joyfully.

“Right grandpa,sorry. It was nice catching up, but I have to go."Jaemin tries to slip away again but is stopped by his grandfather who claps a proud hand on his shoulder.

“Nonsense! The night has only just begun. I have some business partners I want to introduce you to,” his grandpa says, successfully trapping him. His grandfather leads him away from the exit and back into the crowd. Jaemin can only grit his teeth as he's pulled further and further away from his exit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Mark speeds through the dead of the night to get to the unknown address; he knows he only has so much time. He didn't know where the address would lead him, but as he pulled into the driveway and spotted Jaemin's car, which looked way out of place, parked in the driveway of a small house in a suburban neighborhood, he knew exactly where he was. This heightened his sense of urgency.

The only conclusion that Mark could draw was that Jaemin must have moved because he was hiding something. After all this time, Mark might finally find you. It's not until he's at the front door that he realizes he has no way in. He looks down at the lock on the door. It's an automatic pin code lock that requires a 4-digit code. Mark quickly pulls his phone from his pocket as he reads the message again.

You can find what you've been searching for 1942

He enters the only numbers he sees on the screen, and the door flashes green as the lock clicks open. He tentatively opens the door, slipping through quietly and closing it behind him. He walks down a corridor, and as he nears the end, he hears the sound of a television. Before turning the corner, he can see the light spilling into the corridor.

“You're here early, what? They realize how crazy you were and that you weren't a good fit for the company."A voice jokes harshly.

There you were, sitting on the couch watching TV in your pajamas, lazily stroking a cat as it purrs in your lap. Mark was relieved you were safe; honestly he had expected you to be in worse shape. He should have known Jaemin would spoil you while in captivity.

"Y/N?” he says hopefully.

You jump at the sound, causing Lucy, one of Jaemin's new cats, to leap from your lap. You slowly turn your head, not believing your ears until your eyes confirm what you've heard.

“M-mark?” you whisper.

When you call his name, all the air in his lungs escapes . It's been over a year since he's heard your voice. Your eyes well up with tears as you leap over the couch to embrace him. You're immediately engulfed in his arms. You take in his comforting scent and cry even harder.

“I looked for you for so long, and the entire time you were right under my nose, I knew I should have never given up.”

“What took you so long? I was waiting for you,” you choke out as you hug him tighter.

“I had a hunch Jaemin might be up to it, and I had someone look into it. They didn't find anything and said I should drop it. I thought maybe you really did just move away.”

“Who told you that?” you ask. Whoever looked didn't do a thorough job, because, alas, here you were.

“Jaehyun,” Mark says, and it all makes sense.

“Jaehyun is a traitor! I was so close to getting out, and he helped Jaemin catch me during a stupid dinner party!” you explain

Mark remains silent for a moment, almost as if he doesn't believe it. He needs to shake it off; there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Catch me up later; we have to leave before Jaemin gets back.” Mark rushes as he goes to grab your hand. You're about to leave when you notice a figure standing in the corridor.

“Too late,” Jaemin says, announcing his presence.

“Let her go Jaem."

Jaemin points a gun at Mark before he can finish his sentence. Stunned, you both take a staggering step back. Mark shields you behind him.

“You're not taking her anywhere,” Jaemin says a little too calmly.

"Jaemin, put down the gun seriously. Let's just talk it out.” You try, but he holds up an irritated hand at you.

“Be quiet. Time and time again, I've forgiven you, but you never learn. I'll deal with you next,” he says. “Right now it's me and him; you stay out of it.”

Mark pushes you away, and you take the hint, stepping back away from the conflict. Jaemin circles Mark, his weapon still drawn as he berates him.

“You just never knew how to give up. You're lucky I'm a man of my word, or else I would have killed you a long time ago." jaemin snarls

Mark stays silent as his eyes track Jaemin's every move. Mark knew he had to be careful; he had trained in weapon disarming, but that was only for a few days. He knew fighting back would greatly increase the odds of losing his life, but he had to do what he could. When Jaemin took a step closer, Mark jumped into action. Mark moves to grab Jaemin at the wrist; he maneuvers the gun so it's pointed away from him as he grabs it and spins it away. Jaemin fights back against the motion and attempts to take control of the gun again. Both fight for the weapon, but in the effort to gain control, the gun slips from their grasp and clatters noisily against the hardwood. You make a move for it, but Mark reprimands you.

“Stay back! It's dangerous!” he warns.

In that split second that he looked away, Jaemin gains the upper hand and gets him in a chokehold. Jaemin is relentless, and Mark is struggling to flee. You can only cry out as you see the fight slowly leave Mark. He's on his last breath before a force pushes them both to the ground. They fall over onto the glass table that sits in the middle of the room and shatters under their weight. They roll in agony attempting to get back up off of the broken glass but stay down. You look up towards the figure that pushed them and you meet face to face with Jaehyun wielding the gun that was discarded earlier. Mark is the first one to notice the new threat. Jaehyun once again has the gun pointed at him.

“Jaehyun please!” you beg

“Jaehyun, do it! Shoot him if you want to keep your position!” Jaemin coughs weakly, still fighting to pull himself up from the glass shards.

All Mark can do is shake his head, pleading silently with his eyes.

“DO IT!” jaemin yells

Jaehyun pulls the trigger, and you close your eyes as the shot rings harshly through the small house. Soon after you hear a thud, your knees feel weak, and you slip down the wall as you cry. You don't bother to raise your head at the footsteps that approach you. You don't care what happens to you at this point. You're ready for it to just be over.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder, and another caresses your face.. You open your eyes at the touch, and marks equally as teary ones stare back at you. You gasp in shock as your eyes trail to the other set looking at you. Jaehyun stares back apologetically before he lowers his head in shame. You throw yourself into Mark's arms again, and he groans in pain. You release him immediately, and he laughs.

“Its ok. Just a little sore after being thrown into a table is all,” he says sarcastically as he eyes Jaehyun jokingly.

“Sorry man, I didn't know what else to do." jaehyun apologizes

“What's going on, Jae? I thought you were helping Jaemin." You say in disbelief.

“I had a change of heart; Mark was right. I did nothing but turn my back on you when all you did was show me kindness. It kept me up at night. "Jaehyun grimaced in regret.

“Were you the one who sent the text earlier?” mark inquired

“What text?” you ask.

“It's how I found you." mark answers

“I thought you might be able to handle it, but Jaemin was able to slip out of the venue earlier than expected, so I came just in case." jaehyun explains

At the sound of his name, you pull yourself up onto your feet. If the mark is in front of you, that means the one Jaehyun shot was...

As you look over at the shattered glass table, a fresh wave of tears starts up as you inspect the scene. Jaemin's body is bleeding out over the glass shards. They twinkle red in the light of the room, and like always, he looks beautiful. The glass crunches under your feet as you walk closer. You don't even wince at the pain as you kneel next to him. He looks at you silently as ragged breaths wrack his chest. A weak hand raises to reach for you, but it falls. You grab it and interlace your fingers; you despise him. You wanted to despise him, but as he took his last breaths, you couldn't bring yourself to. You did love him in a sick, twisted way. Even when your heart was filled with nothing but rage, hurt, and frustration, a small part of you still loved him. You secretly wished for a normal life with Jaemin. That's what compelled you to lean in and kiss him one last time. You kiss him gently, and when you pull away, his eyes are closed dreamily, as if he was sleeping, but you knew. Jaemin was still and quiet, but above all, he was beautiful as he lay there, and that's how you would always remember him. You were pulled up and away by Jaehyun and Mark. You grabbed a few of your things, and you left.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The police wasted no time investigating the death of the newly appointed CEO. It was initially classified as a break-in, but that was later debunked, given that nothing was stolen. They went on to believe that his death was premeditated, and that someone in the company was jealous of him for his new position, but everyone seemed to adore him, and his grandfather revealed that he would not have chosen anyone else to run the company in his place. The police were also unable to locate the murder weapon, which made their job even more challenging.

After a few months of investigating, the case was closed and dismissed due to insufficient evidence. Jaemin's grandfather was livid and sued the city, but you're not sure what came of that. You started over in a new city. You and Mark started seeing each other and took in Jaemin's three cats. Jaehyun continued his position at the company, and despite the fact that you never heard from him, he seemed to keep in touch with Mark. You believe he was protecting Mark in his own way by telling him to give up on searching for you.

It would take you a very long time to truly heal from what happened, and sometimes your heart would still ache for Jaemin, but you would overcome it. You were sure that with marks by your side, you could overcome anything.

#jaemin smut #jaemin fic #jaemin #jaemin scenarios #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fic #nct #nct u #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fanfic #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader

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stervrucht · 2 months

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Steve Harrington\Eddie Munson | Rated: M | cw: Blood, Death, Gore | Tags: Alternative Universe: Vampire, Horror, Dom/Sub undertones, Implied Mind Control, Dubious Consent, Vampire!Eddie, Hotelclerk!Steve | AO3

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The Graveyard Shift - Part 2

They are heading northwest from their last gig in Cincinnati. The highrise of the city center quickly makes way for long stretches of road until the city is nothing more than a bunch of lights in the rearview mirror.

The guys are giddy, strung up from another good show—another good hunt. Eddie is happy to leave Ohio behind; to be returning to his home ground of Indiana.

True, the state itself isn’t much to look at, but in the darkness of the night, he doesn’t care much for a scenic view.

When was the last time he laid his eyes on the vast green fields, the rich yellow of dried wheat, or the cerulean sky? Eddie can hardly recall—it has been decades after all.

Compared to the first half of the 20th century, the 80s are a spectacle to behold. The morals are looser, the clothes more revealing, and hunting was never this easy—never this fun. Eddie likes the way he can walk around at night now, bathed in light and color like he’s living once more.

And the music is something else.

It’s hard to believe he might have missed out on this—on the leather and the smoke and the loudness of it all. The shrieking of guitars and voices that perfectly captures the chaos of the world; to instill darkness in mortals, not through death, but through music.

What a splendid age indeed.

Indianapolis shines like a beacon of light in the distance and in this new age, this time of neon lights and secondary colors, it might as well be Eden itself. It shines in darkness much more than it ever did in the light of day.

When they arrive in the city, Gareth drops him off at some gaudy hotel, and it’s their usual spiel. They stay at separate hotels, avoid suspicion, and then once their show is over, they leave again. Ditch the city and trade it for another.

Rinse and repeat, for centuries to come.

The hotel looks different from the last time Eddie stayed there a decade ago. New owners have tried to put their mark on history. Tearing down the old and replacing it with artificial plastics that seem so prevalent at this time.

It’s cute, the way they try, but few are ever remembered. Most will disappear into obscurity—just another name on a tombstone until that erodes as well.

Most, but not Eddie.

Not Corroded Coffin.

The new marble floors are laid in a checkerboard pattern—polished to such an extent that they reflect anyone who walks on them. It’s a giveaway, but Eddie doesn’t worry about that. Humans are remarkably dim; remarkably easy to fool.

Not that he minds. Eddie prefers his food a little dim.

Behind the front desk stands a boy. Eddie could smell him from outside—the smell of lifeblood and light. It matches his looks in every way. He has an easygoing charm to him.

The boy doesn’t notice him as he massages his temples and Eddie feels like a fox stalking a rabbit unaware of its impending doom.

After so many decades, it’s easy to move without sound—it’s thrilling, the way people jump, the way their eyes go wide as they grow uncomfortable.

Unconsciously they are aware that something is wrong, but humans have grown out of touch with their instincts. They push the feeling down because in this age, evil can be found in board games, books, and the wrong kind of love.

Evil comes in human form—it needs no horns or teeth or claws. It comes in clever tongues, greedy hands, and an insatiable hunger for more, m ore, m ore—

When Eddie sees the boy, he thinks goodness may persist in equal measure. It gnaws at him, the familiarity of it, but he can’t allow himself to go there—not again. It’s a specific kind of anguish. A yearning he can’t mute.

He yearns for Steve before he even learns his name.

And it sounds like a melody, the way his heart rate spikes when Eddie grabs his wrist; his scent a perfect blend of nervous curiosity and excitement, unpolluted by the stench of fear.

Eddie feels his mouth water as his nails dig into his flesh. He pulls back. He has indulged himself too much already.

Not this one. Not yet.

Around 4 AM, Eddie orders room service, and some kid with freckles shows up at his door.

Tommy

He smells like trouble—it radiates off him like perfume as his cheeks flush with expensive wine and stuffs his face with the food Eddie provides.

Call it his last supper. Eddie does have some humanity.

Eddie watches him with a lazy swirl of untouched wine in his hand. Tommy doesn’t notice he doesn’t drink. Tommy doesn’t notice much of anything.

Tommy talks.

He talks a lot and it’s all bullshit. But, fuck, if that isn’t the type of person Eddie enjoys toying with most—cocky and a little rude. They break so beautifully.

The guys have given him shit before, called his tastes fancy. And maybe they are right, just a little, because Eddie has a type.

Tommy isn’t it, but he’s close enough.

He’s sure the guys are fine with this one. Someone unreliable, who oversleeps and skips out on work. Someone who won’t be missed—not until it’s too late.

Yes, Tommy will do , Eddie reminds himself as he sinks his teeth into the boy’s neck. Tommy whimpers helplessly, somewhere between pain and pleasure. The initial resistance wears off fast as the venom fills his veins. Eddie feels his heat seep into his body and he moans against his skin; grabs the back of Tommy’s neck to pull him closer.

There’s nothing quite like blood. Nothing quite like the overwhelming pleasure of life on his tongue as Tommy’s pulse grows weaker and his skin pales.

When Eddie feels Tommy’s heart hitch he knows it’s time to stop. He pushes himself away and creates some distance as he watches. Pupils blown and white-faced, Tommy’s jaw moves helplessly for a minute or so before Eddie sees him fade.

Eddie stands up then. He hates the final spasms—hates the actual dying part, no matter how often he does it. It reminds him of himself, and how he skirted death before he became what he is now.

He moves to his window and stands in front of it. The city is alive with lights, regardless of the hour.

Reflected in the window he sees Tommy’s body give a singular violent jerk.

Death throes.

“It won’t be like last time,” Eddie whispers as he thinks of the boy named Steve.

—

It is morning and Robin is seated at their little breakfast table with a slice of half-eaten toast and a newspaper in front of her. The kitchen smells of bread and coffee and it instantly makes Steve relax. It’s the scent of coming home, especially now that he works night shifts. He makes himself a cup of tea and sits down next to her.

Robin takes another bite of her toast and looks at him. “Alright, spill it.”

“What?”

“You have something to tell me. I can see it in your face.”

Steve sends her a playful frown before pulling the two backstage passes from his breast pocket and sliding them toward her like they’re business cards.

Robin studies them a moment before looking back at Steve. “Remember when I said they were weirdos? That definitely extends to them backstage.” She pushes the passes back to Steve. “How did you even get this?”

Steve steals her toast and takes a bite. “Their lead singer—”

Robin snatches her toast back and pulls a face. “Dude, swallow before you talk.”

“Sorry.” Steve swallows heavily, “As I was saying, their lead singer is staying at the hotel. Tommy didn’t show up tonight so I had to pitch in on room service duty. Kinda sucked balls, but hey, I got something good out of it I guess.”

“And you were so good at pushing a cart this guy just happened to give you backstage passes?” Robin gulps her coffee and eyes him over her mug.

“So what if I was?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine. He invited me into his room and made me have wine with him. Happy now?”

“Steve, that’s really weird.” She frowns into her mug.

Steve fiddles with the handle of his mug. Robin is eying him intensely and she’s probably right. It’s a little weird, but she’s also overly suspicious. “He was just being nice. It was nearly morning. Maybe he felt guilty about the food.”

“Food? He ordered food at what, 5 AM?”

“Hotel guests are always weird. You don’t know half of it. This actually only classifies as mildly unusual.”

“So, what say you? Will you join me tonight?”

“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

“No chance.”

Robin seems to be giving in and Steve feels strangely victorious. “Okay, I’m coming with you tonight, if only because I’m pretty sure this guy has some unbecoming intentions with my sweet Steve.”

Steve laughs and takes a sip of his tea. Robin smiles back at him, tentatively.

“Highly unlikely. I’m not a girl.”

“That means nothing, Steve. Believe me.” Robin flips the newspaper to the next page and they sit in silence for a moment.

It’s a rainy morning and Robin will have to leave for class soon. Steve hates how their schedules contradict each other now. He squeezes her hand affectionately and gives her a reassuring smile.

“It’ll be fun.”

Robin smiles back, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

—

“Are you really wearing that?” Robin asks him that evening.

Steve looks himself down. He’s wearing a polo and jeans. Hardly an offensive outfit. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Oh Steve, they’ll eat you alive,” she says affectionately. “Hold on.”

Robin leaves the room and Steve moves to one of the mirrors to study himself. His outfit isn’t like Eddie’s on the pamphlet, nor like the people in the record shop, but he can’t see what’s wrong with it.

“Catch.” Robin throws a black fabric ball at him and Steve turns around, just in time to get hit square in the face. He yanks it off his head and unfolds it.

“ Heart ? Isn’t it a faux pas to wear shirts of other bands?”

“I didn’t know you spoke French, monsieur Steve. Did you pick that up at that fancy hotel of yours too?” Robin is smiling at him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s the cross-words okay. Now answer the question.”

“It’s fine…ish. Besides, it’s the only thing I have close to your size. It’s better than your polo, believe me.”

Steve sighs. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

—

Robin is right, this isn’t his scene. Steve self-consciously tugs at the slightly too-tight shirt. He’s glad she made him change because people are indeed dressed differently here.

Steve hasn’t attended many music events. Music has always been in the background, not something he consciously paid attention to.

Corroded Coffin hits differently.

It’s the darkness and heat of the small concert hall. People are dressed in black and leather, drenched in defiance and sweat. But the ambiance is magnetic and it lures Steve in. It makes him believe he can become one with this collection of misfits as the drums pound in his head with Robin at his side. Guitars cut through him and Eddie Munson’s voice stitches him back together.

Robin sticks to his side, hands on his arm. She’s wary and Steve doesn’t understand how she’s not taken by this, by the music that sounds so much like love feels.

Robin eyes him suspiciously. Her eyebrows are knit together as she holds his face and scans his eyes. “Did you slip in some alcohol while I wasn’t looking?”

Steve swats her hands away. “Of course not. Where would I even get that?”

Steve isn’t drunk. He can’t be, but the atmosphere feels charged with it. “Just relax Rob, have fun,”

The music is loud and talking is hard. Bodies are squeezed against them from all sides as they make their way back into the crowd.

When Eddie announces their last song his eyes briefly meet Steve’s in the darkness of the crowd. And surely Eddie can’t see him, not really—it’s too dark and the stage lights are too bright. But when he hits his guitar and runs his lips against the metal grid of his microphone, Steve thinks he looks like a god come to life.

Steve is mesmerized by it. Can tear his eyes away from the way Eddie’s mouth moves over the microphone like a lover would. Steve hardly hears the music at this point. The world is faded at the edges and it feels like nothing exists except for Eddie and himself.

Eddie looks at him, and this time Steve is sure he sees him. Eddie’s eyes hold his, lips moving over the microphone as he sings his final note.

The crowd erupts in cheers and the spell is broken.

When the band moves off the podium, chaotic mumbling rises and fills the concert hall. The lights come back on and suddenly all intimacy seems gone.

Rob squeezes his arm, her eyes shooting towards the exit in signal for Steve. She pulls him along, making her way through the mass of bodies around him until she comes to a halt, so suddenly Steve almost crashes into her.

In front of her stands a bulky man dressed in a suit.

“If you’ll follow me,” he says. He doesn’t wait for an answer, but briefly turns his back, walking towards the stage rather than the exit.

Robin shoots Steve a wary look, but he ignores it, grabbing her by the wrist to pull her with him. She resists for a second before giving in.

The man leads them through the crowd to a door near the stage. He holds it open for them and beckons them to go through. The man steps past them until they arrive at another door. He holds it open again and when Steve walks through he is greeted by several other people lounging around.

They’re all girls.

Pretty girls with dark clothes and drinks in their hands—champagne flutes and elegant wine glasses. Some seem a little buzzed; somewhere between the softness of alcohol-induced relaxation and nervous anticipation.

The door falls shut behind them and the girls look up at the sound. They greet them, some with a soft ‘hi’, others with a wave. Some of them ignore them altogether.

Steve doesn’t really care. He isn’t there for them. The girls don’t seem to care either—mostly focusing on themselves or the friends they brought.

“Let's get out of here Steve,” Robin whispers in his ear. She’s glued to his side, antsy to get away, and Steve has to admit the situation feels strange. Now he’s not engulfed by the crowd the high is starting to wear off, and the atmosphere unsettles him a little.

The room is pretty barebones and all the girls are wearing VIP tags around their necks, just like them.

“Let's just get one drink, then we’ll go.” Steve offers. He makes his way over to a table with various drinks—mostly alcohol. Steve decides to be responsible and grabs a soda for Robin and himself. Robin seems nervous enough as is, she doesn’t need Steve’s drunk ass on top of everything.

A little while later the man who led them earlier is back and asks them to follow him once again. Muffled music sounds throughout the hall until a door opens and suddenly music is blasting.

The room is dark with a few lights scattered around casting warm light and dark shadows. The room is hazy with smoke, walls lined with brick, and Persian rugs scattered on the hardwood floor. It must be one of the rooms for performers to relax before and after the show, Steve realizes.

Loud cheering erupts as one of the band members downs a glass of red liquid in one go. Some of it runs past his stubbled chin and he wipes at it with his sleeve.

The large man clears his throat and the band members look up towards the door opening.

“Come in, come in!” A guy with blond curly hair motions. They disperse and the members seem to gravitate towards their respective guests.

“Steve!”

Eddie walks towards him with open arms and Steve feels that familiar pull again. It tugs at his mind and swirls in his gut with a sense of unfounded longing.

Before Steve can react, Eddie has him engulfed in a tight hug and Steve can feel the buttons of his denim vest dig into his chest and the skin of his cold bare arms stick to his own sweat-slick skin.

“And you must be his friend.” Eddie releases him and turns to Robin. He doesn’t hug her. Instead, he takes her hand with a cordial bow and introduces himself as ‘Edward Munson, but call me Eddie’.

The tension in Robin’s posture seems to relax a little then. “Robin,” she says.

Eddie’s attention turns back to Steve and he eyes him up and down.

“Dig the shirt,” he says, clicking his tongue. Steve looks down at the tight fabric stretched over his chest and pats at it self-consciously.

“What did you think of the show?” Eddie looks at Robin, then at Steve.

“It—it was great. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Steve says. Next to him, he sees Robin’s eyebrow move ever so slightly. It’s a tell, but Eddie won’t know that. Robin thinks Steve’s full of shit. Is probably judging his life choices at this very second. That’s fair. Maybe Robin is just having a bad day.

“Great show,” Robin echoes, but there is little passion behind her words. She looks at her watch, and honestly, Steve thinks it’s a little rude with Eddie right in front of them, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are glued to Steve. A handsome little smile growing on his face as he throws an arm around his shoulder.

“Say, we’re heading to a club after this. Afterparty kinda deal. Care to join us?”

Steve opens his mouth to answer, but Robin beats him to it.

“We have class tomorrow morning.”

We. Now that was a lie. Robin really wants to get him out of here.

“I don’t,” Steve corrects her, “An after-party sounds fun. Can’t sleep anyway—night shifts you know.” Steve shrugs.

Robin shoots him a desperate look. “Can I steal him for a moment?” She asks Eddie. He nods and releases his grip on Steve’s shoulder.

Robin leads him to one of the corners of the room. The music is loud, and the other band members are chattering with the girls. One of them has a girl on his lap as they engage in a very intimate conversation.

Once they’re out of earshot, Steve focuses his attention on Robin. “What the hell, Rob!”

“Steve, something about this is off. I swear.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Steve says, but it doesn’t sound convincing. Robin quirks a skeptical eyebrow as she folds her arms over her chest.

The thing is, Steve doesn’t really care. This is the most fun he’s had in a good while. Life has been boring these past few months. He is just finding his footing again after Nancy dumped him. He doesn’t understand why Robin can’t let him have this.

“Steve, I mean it. I’m going home. I really do have class in the morning. If you know what’s good for you, you will come as well.”

“I’m staying, Rob. I can take care of myself.” He crosses his arms over his chest and stares her down.

Finally, Robin relents. She sighs, pulls the VIP badge from her neck, and shoves it in his hand.

“If you’re about to do something stupid, look at my name and maybe—don’t do that thing,” she says. She gives his arm an affectionate squeeze and makes her way to the door, looking back once with furrowed brows before closing it behind her.

Steve stares after her. His excitement tainted with a strange guilt as he stands there alone.

“You alright there?”

Steve turns around and sees Eddie looking at him with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. My friend—” he looks at the door again and frowns, “she had to leave.”

“That’s too bad, man. Listen, we’re about to head out, yeah. I got us a taxi, we’re sharing with Gareth and his harem.” Eddie points a thumb over his shoulder towards the guy with curly blond hair. He’s surrounded by three girls.

Steve shoots him a smile, and when he stares into Eddie’s impossibly dark eyes, he feels all guilt wash off him and that strange sense of longing and anticipation return.

The taxi is a tight squeeze. One of the girls takes the passenger seat, which leaves Eddie, Gareth, and two additional girls in the backseat.

A blonde girl decides to share a seat with her friend by sitting on her lap and Gareth squeezes himself into the middle seat next to the girls. That only leaves one window seat.

“Not a bad idea,” Eddie says, staring at the girls, “you can sit on my lap,” he offers, sending him a little smile. Steve laughs sheepishly until he realizes Eddie meant what he said.

“Won’t you be uncomfortable? Maybe we should get another taxi—”

“It’s only ten minutes. It will be fine,” Eddie waves his hands.

Steve relents and settles himself into Eddie’s lap. They’re both guys, it isn’t weird at all. He was on the basketball team in high school. He knows guys can be close without it having to mean something. Maybe if he were a girl, he would be worried.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he hears their morning conversation echo.

‘That means nothing, Steve. Believe me.’

He shakes her off, even when he feels her VIP pass poke into his thigh from the pocket of his jeans.

The car ceiling is low, and he has to bend his neck a little with the added height of Eddie’s thighs beneath him. There’s no shifting or moving about. He sits planted firmly, full weight on Eddie’s lap. They can’t wear a seatbelt like this, which annoys him somewhat. It thrills him too, the edge of danger, however small.

Everything about tonight is strange and exciting.

The car ride is short indeed. He feels Eddie’s bones dig into the back of his legs, and Eddie holds him, arms wrapped around his waist, but it’s only to steady him. Steve tries not to move too much. He doesn’t want to make it more uncomfortable for Eddie than it has to be. It’s a tight squeeze as is, with all five of them on the backseat, and it doesn’t help that Gareth keeps messing with the girls on his side. His elbows poke into Steve’s side now and then, and it makes him shift in Eddie’s lap.

“We’re almost there,” Eddie breathes against his neck. Steve feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His will is soft and pliant and he feels like he’s drunk again. He wonders how Eddie’s doing that; wonders why Eddie even invited him along when he could be surrounded by a cohort of girls as well, although he loses that train of thought quickly.

Steve stumbles out of the taxi once they arrive, and Eddie steadies him when he steps out behind him. There’s a large line in front of the building—so long that it cuts around the corner— and Steve can only imagine how long it will go on from there.

The red neon sign spells out ‘Candlelight’ and it casts a warm hue on the concrete sidewalk. It makes Eddie’s hair look a deep auburn and fire-red reflect in his black eyes.

Steve hasn’t been to many nightclubs in Indianapolis. Before, when he was dating Nancy, there was little reason to, and now that he has his job at the hotel, his nights are often otherwise preoccupied. Robin indulged him once after he and Nance broke up, but after getting hit on by several guys, she quickly decided she never wanted to do it again.

Not that it matters. Steve liked spending whatever free night he had watching movies with Robin just fine. And he would like to meet his next girlfriend organically anyway, not in nightclubs through beer goggles or whatever.

Their entourage is moving towards the double doors of the nightclub and Eddie lays a heavy hand on his lower back. He feels his fingers grace his skin where his shirt rides up; feels Eddie’s sharp nails rest on his skin like talons. It sends a shiver down his spine.

Once one of the other guys talked to the bouncer, they’re allowed in, and Steve is a little starstruck by the way they get to skip the line.

As they walk through the double doors, Steve is engulfed by light and moving bodies to music that thumps so loudly he can feel it in his bones.

A strange night indeed, he thinks as Eddie guides him in.

---

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