✰𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 ✰

✥𝐈✥

Dating a criminal meant that your relationship was unconventional to say the least. For one, public dates were out of the question, unless you wanted it to end in destruction of public property and some dead cops. You also always had to have some kind of flimsy excuse for your family and friends when they asked to meet your elusive boyfriend. In addition, you had to accept the fact that he would have to disappear sometimes for weeks on end to do his boss' bidding.

There was also the small matter of arson, murder and theft and a multitude of other crimes that you'd prefer not to know about. And while you weren't necessarily okay with a lot of what Jean did, you loved him. You loved him so much that turning a blind eye was so easy it made you question your own morality. He didn't scare you either. Not in the slightest, because you knew in his own special way, he loved you too.

In fact it ran much deeper than that. On his worst days, Jean could set the world ablaze until nothing was left because in the end he didn't care about anyone or anything, not even himself. Until he met you, he says. He tells you that in you, he's found something to tether him to this existence.

Maybe he didn't use those words exactly, but he doesn't have to. You know that's what he means when he spoils you with expensive clothes and jewelry, when he offers to kill any person who makes you even the tiniest bit upset and when he comes home to you bloodied and beaten, trusting you to take care of him.

In summary, your relationship forced you to give up on having any "normal couple" experiences. That included, celebrating anniversaries and silly holidays like Valentine's Day so you never bothered to keep track of them. It could hardly be considered a sacrifice when you compared those things to what you actually got from your relationship.

Jean had been gone for close to a month now and you didn't expect him back anytime soon, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. In fact the very last thing you expected was for him to creep into your bedroom in the middle of night and rouse you from your peaceful sleep with a soft kiss on your temple.

You don't jump out of bed in a panic, like any sane person would. Instead you let out a satisfied hum, surrounded by the scent of the Creed Aventus cologne, gunpowder and menthol, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. It should be unpleasant but its Jean's scent and you've missed it. You've missed him. You pick your phone up from your night stand, squinting your eyes at the bright light that makes them sting.

Sunday 14 February, 2:43am

"Welcome home." You mumble groggily, trying your best to fight off your tired body urging you to go back to sleep.

Instead of replying, he greets you by pressing his mouth to yours. You let out a quiet gasp, startled by the sudden display of affection. His lips are chapped but that doesn't matter, your tongue darts out to moisten them before your lips lock into a gentle kiss.

You reach up, weaving your hands through his light hair in an attempt to draw him closer but he retreats, opting instead to turn on the bedside lamp but keeping his other hand behind his back. "Sit up, darling. I got a surprise for you."

Any thoughts of sleep were long forgotten as soon as his lips met yours but now he's really piqued your interest. You push yourself up against the headboard and sit cross-legged. You look up at Jean expectantly. He reveals to you what he has hidden behind his back. A square black box, wrapped in a cobalt satin ribbon.

It's so cliché you can't help but let out a small snort. "What is it?"

"It's a gift. You know... for Valentine's Day?" He says as though it should be obvious to you.

Your heart swells at the gesture. It really was a surprise. Not in a bad way, you just knew he wasn't your average boyfriend and that was okay. You didn't want him to be.

"Well now I feel awful. I didn't get you anything." You pout as he props the box onto your lap.

"It's like a toy... so it's technically for you, but kind of for both of us." It's unusual to see Jean this excited. Eyes filled with mirth makes you all the more curious.

"Like a sex toy?" A giggle escapes you as you undo the bow.

"Are we playing fucking 20 questions? Just open it." He presses you.

You huff at his impatience but you don't comment, not wanting to wait any longer either. You remove the lid of the box only to find something wildly unexpected.

A revolver?

You look up at your boyfriend with confusion etched on your face but his gleeful grin doesn't falter. You've never seen a sex toy like this so you pick up the article to test its weight. It's definitely the real deal.

"Jean, this isn't a toy." You state matter-of-factly.

He merely rolls his eyes and says "Princess, when you can incinerate someone with a flick of your wrist, that little thing is definitely considered a toy?"

"O-okay? What do you want to do with it?" You ask, placing the offending object onto your nightstand, not really wanting to hold on to it anymore, the metallic smell making you feel queasy.

"Ever heard of Russian Roulette?" Jean, picks up the abandoned item, looking down at it with pride.

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows as nervousness starts to creep into your system and you instinctively move to back away from him but Jean is quick to pull you back.

"It's really easy, darling. No need to look so scared." He crawls on top of you, caging you in with his limbs. "6 chambers. 1 bullet. All you have to do is be a good girl for me. If not, I pull the trigger and we see what happens."

The look on his face is positively demented. Sage eyes wide and bright, his face contorted into a sinister smile, white teeth and the silver tongue piercing gleaming in the dim light.

"Baby," you hope the pet name will placate him. It usually does. "I don't know about thi-"

CLICK

You let out a shriek as your body jolts in fear but you're unable to move with his weight pressing on top of you.

"You see now darling?" He clicks his tongue behind his teeth. "You've gone and wasted a shot."

Jean climbs off of you and you're left lying there with your heart hammering violently in your chest, body trembling, still reeling from the shock of what just happened. Reeling from the shock of what is happening

"You gonna listen now? Gonna be good?" Jean prompts, rolling the gun around in his hand.

All you can do is nod as your eyes begin to water. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only grows worse as your mind races with the possible things Jean has in store for you.

"Good. Now strip." He commanded and like a good girl, you obeyed.

Your arms feel like they're made of lead, moving rigidly to take off your shirt (one of Jean's old ones). You can't stop the tears from falling as you pull down your panties, fat droplets roll down your cheeks, desperately trying to swallow the sounds of your sobbing.

This can't be happening. It's Jean. He wouldn't hurt you. He promised you that.

"Oh cut the fucking waterworks." He snaps. "As long as you listen, you'll be fine."

You try to calm yourself with deep breaths, not wanting to irritate him any further.

When you turn to face him, he's leaning back on his haunches, one hand resting on his thigh, the other lazily gripping the revolver. "Fair warning, I'm more of a 'shoot first, ask questions later' kind of guy. But you know that already." He thumbs the cylinder, making it spin. "Now, touch yourself for me."

Breathing is difficult. No matter how much you try, it's like you can't get enough air into your lungs. Thinking only of the gun in your boyfriend's hand, you still bring your own hand between your legs, but you can't concentrate, what with the dread taking over your body making it tough to have any control of your body. Your movements are stiff and apparently not up to Jean's standards.

He only scoffs before-