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p4ranormaluv · 19 hours ago

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BEWITCHED — 재윤, 제이

jake and jay are the complete opposite of vampire stereotypes. they aren't sex gods or evil devils like the people warn, they've never drank human blood or even lost their virginity. in reality, jake and jay are two loser best friends who touch themselves more than they've touched a woman's hand and they drink animal's blood. when they find out you've been blamed for their actions, the townspeople accusing you of witchcraft and sacrificing livestock, the two men try their best to help prove your innocence. in exchange you offer them your blood.

PAIRING: vampire!jake x f!reader x vampire!jay

GENRE: smut, romance, angst, dark fantasy au

CONTENTS: vague historical setting, strangers to poly relationship (no mlm), lovey dovey petnames (fight me), mutual love bombing? (in a good way), getting frisky in a corn maze, witches & trials, brief talk of animal sacrifices/death, biting & blood drinking, hanging, past death/side character death (with graphic desc.), one pride and preduduce reference, ft. jungwon, not proofread (it’s way too long i’m sorry)

SMUT WARNINGS: under the cut!

WC: 22.7k

NOTE: there’s title markers to help you find your spot from where you last read! if you like this work please tell me <3 i realize this might not be everyone’s type of fic, but i’m hoping there’ll be a few others who enjoy it. lengthy feedback is welcome as always :)

SMUT WARNINGS: two smut scenes (but they’re long af), virgin!jayke, sub!jayke & dom!reader (maybe kinda switchy at times), bedroom titles (puppy, angel, miss, etc), jayke get turned on by drinking your blood, voyeurism (jake watches you bathe), masturbation, jay is the goodest boy, jake is a pervy cuck in disguise as a good boy, oral sex, piv, creampie (vamps can’t procreate), breeding kink, praise/light degradation, making love but it’s filthy, double penetration, a little crying, breast stim, jayke eat you out at the same time

GUIDED BY FLAMES;

jake and jay are the complete opposite of vampire stereotypes. they aren’t sex gods or evil devils like the people warn. they’ve never drank human blood or even lost their virginity.

in reality, jake and jay are two loser best friends who touch themselves more than they’ve touched a woman’s hand and they drink animal blood.

“what the hell did this thing eat? it tastes awful.” jay complains after retracting his fangs from the creature’s body.

“it’s a goat, jay. most likely leftover slop.” jake answers as he watches in disgust at how jay’s mouth latches onto the goat’s furry flesh.

“would you stop staring at me like that?”

“you look like a heathen.” jake smirks at his own teasing, satisfied at the way jay’s eyes roll in annoyance, continuing to feed.

“i don’t understand how you can just drink it straight from the source. isn’t it disgusting?”

“i was starving. i didn’t want to wait for us to drain the carcass.” jay answers after drinking the creature dry, tossing it in a nearby wooden crate after.

later on the two boys will take the crate and descend into the forest to burn the body and destroy any evidence. but for now they go back inside the ‘abandoned’ cathedral— in which they’ve lived in for years. it’s the one place they feel safe— far away enough from the town line to keep them hidden, but close enough for them to walk by foot whenever they're due for another ‘blood run’.

of course they try their best to catch the wild animals that live in the forest before stealing the townspeople’s livestock, but they’re no huntsmen. the best the boys usually can catch is a hare or squirrel— and unfortunately, they’re not very filling.

“hey,” jake taps jay’s shoulder as they enter the high ceiling room they converted into a sitting area. there's a scarlet lounge couch, side table, pin cushion chair, as well as a few decorative items that they either found or were left behind.

jay turns to look skeptically at jake, the latter gesturing to his own teeth with a single pointed finger.

“you’ve got a little something here.”

“where?” jay asks with concern, immediately trying to scratch out whatever remains between his fangs.

“i think it’s…fur.” jake says with over dramatics, leaning in with faux concern and promptly bursting into a fit of giggles after.

jay realizes his sarcasm, nudging him firmly on the shoulder. “damn you.” he bites with only minor annoyance, most of it only for show as he lays down over the scarlet couch.

“we already are.” jake smirks, moving to sit in the chair he often occupies, picking up a book he’s just reached the middle mark of.

“clever.” jay replies flatly, the room falling into silence as the older shuts his eyes and the latter begins reading silently.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you’re out of breath, the cold night air causing your throat and chest to ache as you continue running into unknown darkness. you can no longer see the orange glow of the townspeople’s flaming torches— and the echo of their angry shouts grow fainter.

due to having no light before you other than the stars above, you trip over a fallen stick that snaps under your weight, causing you to harshly hit the ground. you huff— mostly by annoyance rather than the minor pain.

you can’t believe you’ve gone from being a…well— you were about to think ‘a well respected citizen’, but the townspeople hardly even treated you humanely. your father was a bastard child, so you were doomed from the start. your low status only added as reason for their distaste towards you— in the majority of the townspeople’s minds at least.

regardless, you never would have imagined they would accuse you of witchcraft— but here you are, groveling in the dirt as you run away from a mob of men and women with pitchforks and torches, wanting to capture you and put you on trial. (which are known to be unfathomably unfair.)

picking up your skirts to prevent further tripping, you stand up with a bothered pinch to your brow and continue forward.

you’re not sure what you’re going to do, but you certainly can’t return back to town right now— it would be certain death.

so you keep walking…and walking.

you’re not sure how much time has passed, but you’re certain the moon has risen higher in the sky than when you first started your trek.

then you see the faint glow of something in the distance.

your eyes narrow— stilling as you worry it may be the flame of someone’s torch, hunting you down. but the light is coming from the opposite direction of town— and by the looks of it, you’re deep into the thickest part of the forest at this point. it can’t be anyone seeking to throw a noose around your neck, surely.

so with hopeful energy in your steps, you walk closer to the light.

it leads you to an old cathedral that appears to have three levels. the faint glow of candle light comes from the second story’s window on the left. without thinking there’s any reason to knock, or that whoever’s up there would be able to hear you, you grab the large door's eccentric knob and open it.

it’s creaks, the sound making a chill run down your spine as the place is completely dark other than the moonlight pouring through the windows— though it’s not enough light for you to be able to see properly.

you take a few hesitant, fearful steps, thinking of how you’re in a very vulnerable position right now. someone could easily grab and hurt you— or do whatever they wanted, especially while you’re out in the middle of a forest. your father would surely have a heart attack from nerves. but you realize with a heavy heart that he must be feeling that way right now, wondering where his daughter is— or if you’ve been captured in prison, waiting to be put to trail.

you’re broken out of your depressing thoughts when you spot a lit candle in its holder down a long hall.

still walking slowly (and you’re not sure if it’s because you feel like you’re trespassing or from the fear of your own footsteps echoing eerily around you), you reach the single legged table that the candle sets upon, picking it up and holding it in front of you, revealing a staircase at the end of the hall.

you feel as though an eternity has passed when you finally reach the third floor. your overly cautious steps and halting every few seconds to peer into the darkness whenever you think you see or hear something is probably what’s to blame for it.

the weight of dread grows heavy in your stomach as you worry you’ll have to open every door in this endless hallway to find which room the light is coming from, but luckily, one of the doors is cracked, and you know it must be the room you’re looking for as the flickering light of candle flame reflects against the floor.

with a heart you feel is about to beat out of your chest, you slowly open the door.

“…hello?”

you’re brows furrow in confusion to find the room completely empty, yet appearing as though someone was just here?

there’s at least ten candles, all lit and resting on various surfaces, the white wax dripping down its base and golden stands as they’re clearly well used. a rug is on the dark hardwood floors, a large bookshelf with a plethora of old books, and two choices of where to sit.

you walk closer to one of the chairs, head tilting as you look at the book that lays on its seat cushion.

‘first folio’ it reads, ‘by william shakespeare’.

its blood red cover is stark against the dark fabric of the chair, the book laying spine up as if it was dropped haphazardly…

your stomach suddenly drops as you feel the powerful sensation of fear— like the impending feeling of doom is about to dig its claws into you.

you turn to run out of the room when you feel strong arms wrapping around yours, some sort of sack being thrown over your head.

you scream— blood curdling with the unmistakable sound of terror as you can hardly even muster the strength to struggle against the strong hold restricting your limbs and waist.

“please, please! let me go!”

you hear the sound of another body other than the one behind you, the second person sounding like they’re standing in front of you.

“please, don’t hurt me.” you start to sob, voice weak as you almost slump in your capture’s arms.

“why are you here?” the person— a man— in front of you asks, his tone deep and dangerous, like a warning.

“i— i…” you’re unsure of how to gather your words, especially in your panic and between tearful gasps of breath.

you decide to simply settle for the truth, you’re rather sure you won’t come out of this situation alive either way.

“i was ran out of town.”

the body against your back stiffens just a smidgen, but you don’t miss it.

“they— they think i’m a witch.” you sniffle, eyes watering again as you release this is how you will die, in darkness with a broken heart— ran out of town with the reputation of a poor seamstress and supposed witch. your father won’t ever know what’s become of you, forced to live the rest of his lonely life with the memory of your late mother and missing daughter.

“…are you?” the voice asks again, and you almost wonder if it’s even the same person with how much softer it sounds.

“no, no, i’m— i’m not.”

“and it’s…just you? do you have any weapons?”

“no.” you answer simply, voice cracking with desperation.

a few beats of silence pass, yet you feel as though something is happening between the two people.

“unhand her.”

“what! she could—“

“look at her, jay! she can do us no harm.”

another beat of silence, then a sigh right behind your head before the sack is pulled off and your arms are freed.

you blink hard to adjust your eyes and diminish your onslaught of tears. the blurry body of the man in front of you, and the second one who moves away from behind you to stand beside the other, slowly focus into view.

“who…who are you?” you breathe, trying to catch the breath you’ve lost from fright as you look at the two young men in front of you.

one’s eyes carry the softness of pity in them as he looks at you, longer, brown hair peeking out from the back of his neck just slightly as he stands with his hands holding themselves in front of him. he’s dressed in nice attire, a black waist coat with matching pants and boots, a white long sleeve underneath.

the second man was dressed similarly, but completely black— just like his shorter cut hair and bottomless eyes that bore into you. he reminded you of a snake— seconds away from striking.

and yet, even in your terror you could recognize that they were undeniably handsome.

“who are you is the better question.” the raven haired bites, tone harsh and slightly raised in volume.

“stop it.” the brunet interjects with scolding eyes, putting a hand to the other’s arms that are crossed defensively.

when he looks to you, his eyes soften immediately, tone gentle— as though he’s talking to a frightened animal. and you can’t really blame him for that. your legs are still trembling. you wonder if they can tell even with your long dress.

“i’m terribly sorry, miss. we really didn’t intend to scare you—“

“why do they think you to be a witch?” the other interrupts, voice demanding. the softer sighs, pinching is brow in annoyance.

“the…the livestock. more and more are vanishing. the townspeople think the animals are being used for sacrifices.”

the sharper one’s eyes widen for a moment, you seemingly catching him of kilter a bit. the other looks like he’s about to be downright sick.

“they…the animals?” he mumbles in shock, staring at you.

“what reasons do they have to think it’s you?” the dark one asks, slightly less demanding this time but still remaining stern.

“what reasons do they have for anyone?” you respond immediately, snapping slightly as your usual gumption rears its head at the mention of the subject that fills you with so much rage and sorrow. “they hung my own mother because of a baseless accusation of witchcraft— a nine year old girl was the most recent hanging.”

the raven haired swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as his hard exterior dwindles more and more.

he turns to his anxious looking companion, the two of them sharing a look that somehow looks just as dumbfounded as it does all-knowing.

“what are we to do?” the dark one (what did the other man call him earlier— jay?) asks, sounding completely lost as the other just shakes his head in disbelief.

“um— perhaps…uh,” jay stutters, turning between looking at you and the other. “give us a few moments to…discuss.”

you stare at him, standing stalk still— because what else can you do except go along with their every whim, you’re the one at a disadvantage here.

jay grabs the other’s arm, leading him out of the room before he turns to you once more, right before he shuts the door.

“and…please don’t try and jump out the window, alright?” he genuinely warns.

you hear the click of the knob, and you sigh as you now know he’s just locked you inside.

you stay in your spot, tears stopping but the tingle of your previous and slightly remaining fear lingering on your arms. but after what feels like a handful of minutes pass, you move to sit down on the chase couch. you haven’t had the chance to think about how tired you are from all the emotional exhaustion and running until your body meets the softness of the couch.

before you know it, your body drifts down to lower against the cushions, and you drift off to sleep.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you’re slowly roused from the fog of sleep as you feel a poke to your arm.

“is she cattle? don’t prod her like that.”

“well i don’t know what to do! i’ve never woken a sleeping woman before, jake!”

you take a deep inhale as your eyes blink open, mind starting to become clearer as you sit up and rub your eyes before looking at the men in front of you.

“…hi again, miss.” the brunet smiles, awkward but charmingly as you’re slightly surprised at the flutter in your stomach it causes you.

“i’d like to apologize, for—…” the other begins, seeming to have a hard time finding his words.

finally he starts over, holding his hand out to you with a slight bow. he looks up at you through his eyebrows, a slight curve to his lips that’s somewhat tilted, akin to a humble smirk.

“my names jay. i’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances.”

“likewise.” you reply, giving him your hand as he places the ghost of a kiss to it, showing his regret.

you’re a little unsure of how you should act. first they capture you, and now they’re acting gentlemanly?

“i’m y/n.”

“my names jake, miss y/n.” the barely shorter smiles, keeping a noticeable distance to you, especially compared to jay.

“so…” the other starts, looking back at jake for a reaffirming glance before holding your gaze. “we’ve come to an agreement. we’re going to help you.”

you falter, staring at them clearly confused. “i…why would you help me?”

“because we’re responsible for your misfortunes, miss.” jake replies, eyes flickering up to yours for a fleeting moment before looking down at his feet. he seems to be the shyer one out of the two.

“how…how are you…”

your eyes rake over their appearances one more time as you take in your situation.

you’re in the middle of a forest, in an old cathedral that these two men seem to live in. they’re young, seemingly healthy despite their slightly pale appearance. and aside from this well lit room, they seem to be entirely satisfied to wander around in the darkened halls.

and they’re saying they’re responsible…for….

your eyes flash with recognition that the two men are able to recognize, waiting and trying to prepare themselves for any reaction you may have.

“are you…vampires?”

“yes.” jay answers.

“but don’t be afraid!” jake adds, raising his hands in front of him as if to show his innocence. “we haven’t been…we’re not bad! and we’re not going to hurt you!”

“we don’t drink human blood.” jay continues calmly, a stark contrast to his friend. “that’s why the animals have been disappearing, we feed off of them instead.”

“you haven’t fed off of humans…ever?”

“only once, when we first turned. and that’s only because we’d gone mad from the transition.” jay promises with steady eyes. you look to jake, who almost flinches at your gaze, cheeks flaring into a pink blush as he shakes his head in confirmation.

you pause, deep in your head as you’re processing the information.

and your conclusion is— well, what else do you have to lose?

“so you’ll really help me?”

“we promise, lady y/n. we feel awful that it’s our fault you’re in this position— that anyone’s in this position at all, really.” jay assures. “we think it’d be a good idea to wait a good while though, until the villagers aren’t searching for you anymore?”

you nod your head in agreement, jay smiling and looking surprisingly sweet, completely unlike the stone cold man that interrogated you previously.

“great. and by that time, me and jake are hoping we’ll have devised a good enough plan. it might not sound like much but it’s the best we can offer.”

“no, that’s— this is a great help. thank you.”

“….and i’m terribly sorry i put that bag over your head!” jake bursts out awkwardly, the deeply sorry yet out of place confession making you gradually descend from a small giggle to full on laughter, jay joining you as well as he looks over at jake amusedly.

“let’s just forget about that. we’re starting fresh.” you smile.

the flustered boy is only able to respond with another nod, still unable to hold eye contact for very long.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

living with jay and jake is quaint, but there’s an undeniable charm to it— to them.

they bicker playfully often, but the moment they realize you’re watching with amused eyes or soft laughter, they pull apart as though embarrassed, brushing off their attire with blushed cheeks.

jay is ever the nurturer, always asking if you’re feeling well, physically and mentally. he’s the one who helped you adjust your sleeping schedule to their night time life— since they can’t walk in the sun. every time you woke, he’d be right there, a tray of delicious food that he prepared himself just for you.

“where did you learn to cook so skillfully? i must say, i didn’t expect a vampire to know how to prepare food so well when you don’t even eat yourself.” you asked while munching on a biscuit glazed in honey and butter.

jay smiled, the kind that has been making your stomach flounder like a fish lately— eyes sparkling and cheeks rising, a stark contrast to the handsome yet sharp expression his face usually rests in.

“i enjoyed cooking often before i turned.” he’d answered simply, leaving you to wonder about the life the both of them led before they became creatures cursed to the dark shadows of the night.

jake is akin to a skittish, stray puppy. it’s quite clear that he wants to speak to you more comfortably and spend time with you as jay does, but the moment you direct your attention to him he spirals into a stuttering mess with shaking pupils.

nevertheless, he’s incredibly polite.

you were balancing on a latter that was connected to the bookshelf, trying your hardest to grab a specific book that remained just out of your reach. you heard someone entering the room and turned your head out of instinct to see who it was, and you lost your footing.

your high pitched yelp and the squeak of shoes against hardwood was all that you can remember as you fell, before you fell into the surprisingly strong arms of—

“jake?”

“m— miss! you shouldn’t be on the latter when wearing such long of skirts!” he scolded, tone ever so gentle and sweet even as he did so.

“i’m sorry.” you apologized softly, feeling as though it was only appropriate given how close his face was to yours. jake suddenly became aware of this as you caught his eyes glancing down to your lips, before a raging red burned the tips of his ears, quickly spreading to his cheeks.

he put you down gently, but in a hurry— avoiding your gaze once again as he offered: “j— just tell me what you wish to read and i’ll get it for you, miss.”

irrefutably, they were kind hearted men— which is why it saddened you when they had to leave for hours on end almost every other day, struggling to catch anything significant in the forest, since they learned of the witch trails and stopped taking animals from the town.

you’ve thought heavily about it in the two weeks you’ve been here, and secretly you’ve collected and have been reading any book you could find in their vast collection about vampires.

just a few hours into the night and you see jay and jake looking out the window, judging by the rise of the moon what time it is.

you know they’re about to turn around to tell you they’re about to change and go on the hunt, and so you interrupt them before either of them can take a breath.

“i don’t want you to go hunting anymore.” you state almost a little too urgently, the two men turning to you with a look as though you’d grown two heads.

“but…my lady, we have to.” jay explains, almost sounding as though he’s asking a question with how confused he is over your outburst.

“what if you didn’t have to…” you begin, unsure of how to say it.

“what do you mean?” jake asks, a rare moment where he’s fully staring at you, bashfulness forgotten as you stand before them.

“i…i could give you my blood.”

jay’s eyes widen impossibly, and jake becomes so flustered he hides his face in his hands and turns his back to you in favor of staring out the window.

“y/n! but— you…it’s…”

jay’s eyes unfocus as his gaze is almost aimless, staring at nothing as you can tell he’s consumed by his thoughts.

then he clears his throat and shakes his head, your interest sparked as it’s rare for even him to be bashful— and if you didn’t know his expressions so well you would have missed it.

“it’s not…to be taken lightly, giving a vampire your blood. especially since…”

“since you haven’t fed off a human before, besides that one time. i know.” you begin, knowledgeable from your vampiric studying.

a vampire drinking blood, especially from a willing human— it’s intimate, and can sometimes be somewhat of a sexual act. especially when jay and jake have been deprived of human blood for such a long time, it’s more likely to get…intense. and you can’t lie, the thought thrills you— but that’s not even your intention. your purpose is pure. why have the boys go out every night to struggle to fill their appetite when you’re right here?

“i’m aware of it all, jay. and i still want to help you…if you want to have me.”

jake abruptly makes a choked sound that descends into a cough from your words, that he knows you didn’t mean to sound so…suggestive. and yet he finds himself having to talk himself down, desperate to calm the growing hardness between his legs before it’s noticeable.

jay stares at you with wide black eyes that can hold every spark of light in his irises, biting his lip and subsequently flashing his sharpened fangs at you. your heart stirs.

“are you…sure?”

“entirely, jay. i’ve thought of this for a while.”

“and you’re aware that it…will hurt, a bit.”

you nod your head, a small smile that’s meant to be soothing on your lips.

“i’m not one to be overly sensitive to pain.”

“…alright,” jay whispers, growing closer to stand before you, the tips of his shoes just beneath your skirts.

your heart starts to beat faster in anticipation, slowly pulling the sleeve of your bodice down to further reveal your neck and the junction of your shoulder, staring up at jay the entire time.

the raven haired man shudders a breath, unable to control where his gaze lands anymore as he looks from your face to the smooth skin of your clavicle, and how the short ruffled hem of your blouse frames it enticingly. your breathing becomes faster as jay finally closes the small remaining distance, hands holding your waist as he pulls you against him. his nose brushes against your cheek, and you can hear him taking a slow inhale.

“you smell good…like you’ll taste sweet.” he mutters almost to himself, but you feel your body reacting to his words and his breath fanning against your neck, large hands gripping your waist more firmly.

“your heart is beating faster.” jay wonders, leaning further down towards the junction of your shoulder. “are you ready, my lady?”

“yes, jay. go ahead…bite me.”

his mouth bares as he’s not slow in sinking his teeth into your flesh, making the pain not as bad— but it’s still enough to make you gasp, a burning hurt in your shoulder that turns into an odd yet tingly sensation as jay starts to suck.

you sigh as you get used to the feeling, jay’s lips pressing into your skin. his hands move in favor to wrap his arms entirely around your waist, and you find yourself having to surpass a moan at his chest being pressed against yours, and how his sucking spreads that tingly— growingly pleasurable weak sensation all over your body.

“jake,” you breathily call out, wanting the boy to get a taste before you’ll have to stop.

the brunet slowly turns around, big brown eyes glossy in the moonlight as they roam over your form that’s captured in jay’s hold. your dress has lowered even more, breasts peeking out from the top as your face is contorted into an almost pleasurable expression.

you look absolutely breathtaking— and delectable. which is maybe why jake hardly even notices how his feet take a step forward.

still, he’s hesitant, and you find yourself cooing to him with one arm outstretched.

“come, jakey. it’s okay. get your fill.”

you don’t miss the earnest whimper that he lets out before he’s suddenly in front of you, legs trembling as he stumbles to his knees beneath you. his hands are desperate and eager as he grabs your forearm, bringing himself closer until his teeth are piercing into your veins.

you can’t help the pained sound you let out, jake much more messy and uncoordinated with how he bites you, and him sucking right at your veins make that pleasurable feeling grow ten fold. your cunt pulses strongly between your legs, nipples hardening as you feel like everything becomes more sensitive.

your moan is crude, but the boys only react with throaty whines of their own as they press and suck their plush lips to your skin more desperately. all control has practically been lost between the three of you all at once, your thighs growing weaker as jake presses himself to your leg, one hand wrapping around it from beneath your dress while the other still holds your arm with bruising strength that you’re sure is unconscious. jake’s legs squeeze around your ankle, and that’s when you’re made aware of the distinct hardness his cock has turned. you find your foot pushing against him without thinking, the movement so slight— and yet jake his moaning out from the sensation.

one of jay’s hands creeps up from your waist to cup your jaw, tilting you more to the side before his fingers feel downward, over the veins of your neck.

“y— y/n,” he exhales shakily, retracting his teeth out of your shoulder to lick at the blood that drips down.

you let out a moaned sigh that sounds too weak for jay’s liking. he tightens his hold of you in his arms, finding himself having to keep you upright as you lose the strength to stand. his eyes look into yours, which are hazy and half lidded.

though he loves how undeniably arousing you look like this, he knows you need a break.

“jake..jake, stop.”

jake is still mindlessly sucking away at your blood, and when jay sees him grind his hips down onto your shoe, he takes a handful of his hair and roughly yanks him off of you.

“jake! that’s enough!”

your eyes start to repetitively blink until they’re shut, leaning all of your weight into jay’s arms as you drift into a deep slumber.

the tone of your relationship changes after that, and the three of you become lovers.

it was bound to happen, you realize now— with how sweet jay and jake are, and the sexual tension that keeps building between you with every blood feeding you give them.

jake is still easily flustered, but incredibly clingy and affectionate now. and jay fares no better, a protective hand always having to be pressed to the small of your back or around your waist.

now when they bicker they don’t stop until you’re having to scold them or pull them apart, and the boys only seem to enjoy how you fuss over them. when you wake you are still greeted with a tray of jay’s delicious food, but now instead of having jay simply sit by your side, jay and jake are both in your bed, cuddled up to your side or brushing their fingers through your hair.

the passion of your affections are growing, and so is your lust— and you can only wonder when the rope holding you all back will snap.

after four weeks of hiding out in their cathedral, jay and jake finally begin a conversation about how to prevent your own hanging.

“quite frankly, why don’t we just flee to another town?” jake asks as you all sit in the common area. you’re sprawled across jay’s lounge sofa, the raven haired man having you between his legs while jake sits at his usual spot in his chair.

“i can’t leave my father, and he won’t abandon the farm. it’s not much but…it’s his whole livelihood. and it’s where he lived with mother…”

jay and jake share a look, the older running a comforting hand through your hair as he speaks to you in a comforting tone.

“then we won’t flee, dearest. we’ll just have to find another way.”

“do you have any witnesses of your recent doings before they accused you?” jake asks after a quiet moment of deep thinking.

you ponder over his words, having trouble with how jay’s arm squeezes possessively around your waist. jake’s lips push into a pout as his brows furrow, beginning to feel jealous at the way you let jay be all over you— while he’s across just watching.

“yes. in fact, my week was full with appointments.” you recall.

you have a small seamstress shop to help ends meet, and though it’s quaint, it’s what you’re known for— which can come as a help with your current predicament.

“i think i had a customer every day. with the cold weather fast approaching, everyone wants to get their clothes patched up or new ones made.”

“perfect! so we’ll just talk to them and ask them to give their account.” jay says cheerily, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, causing you to giggle.

jake practically scoffs, abruptly standing to march over and kneel, wrapping his arms around your middle and pressing his face into your stomach.

“my tuurrn.” he whines, rubbing his nose against you and making you ticklish.

“alright, alright, puppy. come here.” you laugh, jake eagerly hopping up to lay himself in your lap.

he lets out a content sigh as your fingers massage at his scalp, jay chuckling under his breath.

“but how will you help me gather witnesses when you can’t walk in the sun?”

“we’ll just have to go at night, lovely. it may raise suspicion but…what more can we do?”

jay assumes the plan has ended at that. the boys won’t let you go alone to town in fear you’ll end up dead, so in their minds the plan is to run into town at night, gathering as many testimonials as they can over the span of a few days while hiding out in your father’s barn when the sun's out. but unbeknownst to the two men— you just won’t have it. the plan is more than a little iffy. the townspeople have been an edge from the witching trails and missing livestock for a while now. people are staying awake at night— watching out for anything that seems odd. with this plan, not only will you be hung, but jay and jake too.

so as you sit there, squeezed between your two overly affectionate lovers who you’ve only just begun the pleasure of knowing— you devise a secret plan of your own.

you’ll just have to wait for the perfect moment to put it into action.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the night is a foggy one, leaving your skin uncomfortably clammy.

jay prepares you a bath in a tin basin, left outside at the back of the church from where they would commence baptismals.

“make sure to let it cool.” warns jay as he pours the boiling water he prepared into the tub. “it shouldn’t take long with how cold it is.”

“thank you, angel.” you smile, jay coming closer to receive a peck on the cheek.

“don’t take too long to bathe, my lady. it’s safe, but i don’t like the thought of you being out here by yourself.”

you assure him you’ll be quick, and with one last look jay is opening the back door and going back inside, leaving you to the misty night.

it takes a bit for you to untie your corset and layers of skirts, hanging each article of clothing on the short stair rail of the back door until you’re stripped bare. the basin is billowing with steam, but when you prick your finger into the water it’s just the right temperature.

careful to not fall as you step in, you sink yourself into the water with a relaxed sigh.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

jake walks down the long corridor, heeding jay’s words to check on you as his anxiousness only seems to grow with every minute that passes, jake feeling the same way.

which is possibly why he forgets the fact that you are naked until he opens the door enough to crack, and gets an eyeful of your gloriously bare body, and he’s suddenly struck dumb— standing completely still and unable to look away.

you look as beautiful and dangerous as a siren, soaking in the steaming tub with skin that shines in the moonlight. your breasts are barely concealed beneath the water, one long leg peaking out and balancing along the basin’s edge. your hair is damp as you run your fingers through it, and jake doesn’t miss how the movement pushes your breasts together.

you are the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on— and jake hasn’t seen many naked women, but after seeing you he doesn’t desire to see anymore, as none could ever compare.

jake swallows dryly. enough seconds have passed for him to have at least one cognitive thought, which is that it’s entirely ungentlmenly to be watching a naked woman bathe— even if that naked woman is his lover— without her permission.

but he just…can’t.

against his better judgment and beliefs, jake continues watching you through the crack of the door, ignoring how his cock twitches to life at the sight of you.

after running your hands through your hair a bit, getting all the tangles out, you lean over the tub to grab a bar of soap. jake luckily is quick enough to press a hand to his mouth before his gasp escapes when you sit up straighter in the tub, revealing the entirety of your breasts and perked nipples to his perverted eyes. as you start to rub the soap over your body, bubbly suds run down your body and between the swells of your chest, making jake grow in jealousy as he wishes he had that honor.

his ‘second brain’, painfully hard and throbbing— is getting impossible to ignore. so jake lets one hand move down to grope at himself, softly jerking it through his pants.

he’s never felt such intense pleasure while touching himself as he does right now, and he knows it’s because he has a gorgeous woman with a heavenly body to watch as he imagines it was you touching his cock, calling him a good boy as you’d allow him to squeeze and suck at your tits.

jake has to bite down on his bottom lip to conceal a shuddered breath, and when you put down the soap to lift both your hands and start massaging the suds into the skin of your breasts, the poor boy almost chokes.

“puppy…i know you’re here.”

jake’s eyes widen as he stands stock-still, unable to even remove his hand from his crotch as he feels like prey standing in front of a lioness.

you turn your head to look at him, a sultry smirk on your lips that has jake whimpering.

you let out a small giggle at the sound and how sensitive the boy must be to get this worked up over just seeing you bathe. with one hand, you bid him closer.

“come, darling. you must be so hard, hm?”

jake feels as though he’s walking on clouds as he approaches the basin, standing at the side of it— humiliated at the realization that with you sitting down, the bulge in his pants is right at your eye level. he’s unable to look away from your gaze. he doesn’t want to— but he does try to shield his visual arousal with two hands over his crotch.

you tut disapprovingly, leaning relaxed into the tub like you have all the power and assurance in the world— and with jake, you do.

“don’t hide from me, puppy. show me.”

the term of endearment you often call him has a whole new effect in the situation jake finds himself in, letting out a little whine as he removes his hands to instead grip them behind his back. his lips pout and eyes shine, innocently round as you can tell he’s trying to win your forgiveness. but he’ll soon find out you aren’t mad in the slightest.

“aw, that looks so painful.”

jake nods his head, a now ploring look in his eyes that you have to resist smiling at in your cockiness.

“want me to help you, darling?”

“y— yes please, miss.”

your hand raises to cup his manhood, delighted to find he's more than a handful big. jake exhales shakily, body wracking in a sudden shiver before he apologizes for it under his breath. you’re so incredibly endeared by his shy sensitivity, wondering how a boy so sweet could have been touching himself to your naked body— thinking he was doing it in secret, just moments ago.

“naughty boy, jerking your cock when you thought i didn’t know.”

“i’m— i’m sorry, y/n. i— i thought—“

“that i wouldn’t find out? that’s even naughtier, puppy.”

jake moans longly at your sultry scolding, cheeks blushing at the sound he’s unfamiliar with making so passionately. and as he looks down, seeing his gorgeous lover palming his cock while her breasts are pressed enticingly against the inner walls of the tub— he finds himself babbling all his shameful thoughts.

“i’m so sorry, miss. you just— you looked so pretty. i just couldn’t control myself, couldn’t stop.”

you coo, continuing to move your hand over his covered shaft more firmly as he squirms.

“poor puppy. so helpless. but tell me this, jakey. if i hadn’t caught you, would you have kept touching yourself until you came?”

“m— miss!” jake exclaims, eyes squeezing shut as your hand only moves faster, his breath gaining speed along with it.

“oh, don’t act all scandalized. i know what a pervert you are now, jakey. tell me.”

“i— i—“ the boy struggles to speak, finding himself in this very moment close to coming.

but before anything can proceed further, another voice echoes into the night.

“what in god’s name is taking the both of you so long!”

jay busts through the door rather unceremoniously (unlike jake), but his eyes widen and he is suddenly silenced in a similar way.

he only stares for a moment, eyes flitting over your naked body— pausing at your exposed breasts and hip bone peeking above the water, before shielding your modesty with his own hands over his eyes.

“m— my lady, i’m so sor—“

“it’s okay, angel. you can look.”

jay’s body flinches, hesitant as though he cannot believe his ears. after a few seconds more, he finally slowly lowers his hands.

“…dearest?” he asks, question incomplete, but you’re sure you know what he’s wondering.

“jakey here was being a pervert and watching me bathe.” you tell honestly, your hand removing from jake’s cock to his utter dismay, feeling his climax slip through his fingers. (or rather, yours.)

“bastard.” jay mutters under his breath, but jake catches it as the open land causes the noise to echo, snapping his head to scoff at jay offendedly.

“don’t act so righteous. you would have done the same.”

“i quite literally just proved i wouldn’t!” jay defends himself, and before an argument can break out between the two, you’re raising yourself from the tub.

“m…miss? where are you going?”

you take languid steps towards the door, purposely swinging your hips to each side just enough to make the boys drool while at the same time trying not to seem like you’re meaning to tempt them. it works, because when you peer over your shoulder they’re not looking at your face.

“to my bedchamber, where i expect you both to follow me.”

the boys pause for only a moment, giving each other a wide eyed look before hurrying to catch up with you.

jay grabs your hanging clothing before you can, folding them neatly over his bent arm. you smile at his sweetness, slowly moving to cup his jaw and give him a kiss. jake watches it all with bated breath, how your naked breasts push up against jay’s suit as you whisper a ‘good boy’ in his flushed ear. jealousy and longing starts to simmer in his stomach, but the flutter of his own arousal is enough to sedate him.

the two men stay silent as they feel an eternity drags on while following closely behind you down the winding hallways, their eyes trained on your ass and the alluring way it sways when you move. the shadows and moonlight sticking to the contours of your spine make you look like a sort of enchanted being— which is humorous when you consider it’s really them who are the magical creatures. and you have them trailing behind you as though on a leash, listening to their enchantress’s every whim.

when you reach your bedroom jay hurries to open the door for you, and jake curses at himself for missing another opportunity of praise.

the three of you enter in, you bidding jay to set your clothes down over a chair before asking them to sit on the edge of your bed.

they both do so hesitantly, as though they still can’t believe what’s happening. here you stand completely naked, and yet they look like the utterly vulnerable ones. jay and jake both have their hands folded in their laps obediently, the bulges in their pants evident as they look up to you with adorably round and shining eyes.

you acknowledge the tenderness of the moment with a gentle hand to both of their thighs. if this continues, it will be your first time to bed together.

“do you both…want this?”

“yes.” the boys answer together.

they immediately become embarrassed, not only by speaking in unison but also by their obvious eagerness, glancing at each other before avoiding eye contact completely.

you giggle, raising your hands to ruin your fingers through each of their scalp’s affectionately. jake sighs out in what practically sounds like relief, jay having a ghost of a smile as his eyes fall shut.

your hand starts to creep down jay’s chest, the path you're taking to his cock evidently clear to the man as he stops you with a gentle yet urgent grasp around your wrist.

“i— my lady…we…”

“what is it, angel?” you ask, brows pinching slightly in concern as jay looks down at your touching hands, rather than your face.

jake clears his throat nervously, cheeks a bright red when your gaze falls to his.

“we haven’t ever…laid with a woman before.”

your disbelief is apparent, eyes widening and mouth opening just slightly as you gawk at the two absolutely stunning men in front of you. how on earth could they have ever kept their chastity? they must have had plenty of women throwing themselves at them.

“we were virgins when we turned, and after that we just…” jay begins, jake finishing for him yet again.

“we were always on the run, terrified of the monsters we had become. we spent years together practically running away from our own cursed existence, just trying to keep away from humans completely in fear that we’d hurt someone.”

“after a few years we realized we could manage control of ourselves pretty well. every adult in our lives or book we read as humans talked of vampires as bloodthirsty killers, so it’s what we had assumed.”

your heart sinks, having to will your eyes not to water hearing them describe such a sad existence up until now.

“you’re— you’re not.” you insisted breathily, making sure to look firmly into both of the boys eyes. “you’re wonderful, unlike any men i’ve ever met— unlike anyone at all really.”

they smile, eyes twinkling, and it touches a part so deeply in your heart that you’re sure hasn’t ever been reached before. and yet they manage to do so easily— without even meaning to.

“anyway…” jay begins softly. “losing our virginity was the last thing on our minds.”

“speak for yourself.” jake mutters with a little sass. “i for one am tired of how well i’ve gotten to know my own fist.”

you laugh abruptly, keeping eye contact with jake as your hand continues its track to cup over jay’s manhood, causing his thighs to twitch a little farther open and an almost undetectable sound to come from his throat.

“well, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait a little longer.” you smirk, slowly lowering to your knees between jay’s legs— the raven’s eyes watching in absolute rapt attention at your gorgeous form kneeling in front of him.

“what? miss—“

“you had your turn when you got a private little peep show. now go sit on that chair and watch, hm?”

jake’s eyes roam, from your groping hand motions over jay’s cock to the way the man throws his head back in ecstasy at just the minor stimulation alone. biting his lip so hard you wonder if it might bleed, jake takes a few steps over to sit at the chair that’s placed at the perfect spot to get a full view of your ass as you’re looking over jay’s lap.

“good boy.” you whisper to him, jake whimpering at the praise— the way you don’t even look at him when you say it somehow rilling him up even more. “if you keep acting good i’ll give you a special treat, puppy.”

“ok, miss. s— so, i can touch myself?”

“yes.” you answer, and then bring your full attention to jay.

his eyes are squeezed shut as the simple action of your palm over his cock brings him to absolute bliss. the bulge in his pants is…generous. your mouth waters to have it in your mouth, but you want to play with him a bit more.

“feels good, angel?”

“yes— yes, y/n. your hands are heavenly.”

you bite down on your smirk, jay opening his eyes and shuddering at the expression on your face that makes his skin burn even hotter.

“well, it will feel even better when my hands are actually on your cock. can i take off your pants, darling?”

he nods eagerly, eyes almost sparkling amidst the black of them in excitement.

you begin to unbutton his pants, glancing up at him again and speaking soft and sweet, trying to take extra care because it’s his first time— but also in efforts to return the gentleness he always treats you with. “could you help me by taking off your upper garments?”

he nods again, rushing all too much to unfasten his black and charcoal gray suit vest, fingers clumsy and unsuccessful in their haste.

you coo, stopping your original task to clasp both your hands around one of his, sitting up a little straighter so you’re drawn closer to his face.

“there’s no need to rush my dark angel, we have all night.”

“yes…sorry, my lady.” jay whispers, appearing flustered as he stares down.

you nudge his nose with yours to get him to look at you again, smiling at him affectionately when he does.

“it’s alright, gorgeous. just let me take the time to make you feel good.”

he sucks the bottom of his lip in his mouth with the ghost of a nod, trying but failing to not glance down at your own pretty mouth.

you grant him his unspoken wish, pressing your lips to his, eventually falling into a slow and sensual dance with every kiss. your fingers make good work at his vest, pulling away from him when you unfasten the last button. you return back to your original task of removing his pants, jay obediently lifting his hips as you pull them off, his hardened length springing free. the mushroom tip is a soft red, average length with a prominent vein running up the shaft that makes you want to run your tongue along its path.

jay’s hesitant groan is what makes your eyes flick up to his, only to be distracted by his chest that is now completely bare. he’s strong…unsurprisingly, defined arms and a torso hardened by muscle making your heart beat faster.

“you’re staring…” jay almost whines, voice textured as it wavers from embarrassment.

“sorry.” you murmur, almost breathless yourself as you sit back on your feet, lowering your mouth nearer to his cock. “can’t help it.”

the touch of your tongue against his shaft is gentle, and yet jay makes a choked moan as you lick up his vein. your hand grasps around the base of it to keep it still as you begin kissing and flicking your tongue at his leaky tip, looking up into his eyes while doing so.

“f— fucking hell.” jay curses, losing more control as his pleasure begins to become more apparent in his voice, breathing out through his nose deeply.

you then swallow down all of his length into your wet, hot mouth, feeling him twitch against your tongue as he abruptly moans loudly.

you hear a high pitched whimper behind you that has you feeling cheeky, arching your back for the boy behind you as you bob your head on jay’s cock once.

“sh— shit.” jake shudders at the dirty yet gorgeous sight of your feminine hips and behind, not quite being able to see but knowing you have another man’s cock in your mouth. his hand tugs at his own with more speed than his previous languid groping, not wanting to release too soon as he has a feeling he’ll be waiting for a while. and oddly, he’s okay with that. the sight and sounds of you sucking off another man— his best friend no less— is more arousing than he could have ever expected.

“never had someone taste you before, angel?” you rhetorically ask, but jay’s shaking his head cutely anyway.

“n— no. feels…hah…your mouth feels so good on my c— cock.”

you continue bobbing your head, careful to not go too soft, but at a rhythm that’s not so slow that he feels you’re being too mean. you want this to last, which means you need to keep him from busting too soon. jay’s hands move to brush your hair behind your ears, away from your face. you feel your heart flutter from his affectionate consideration. even when he’s so aroused, he doesn’t forget about you.

you reward him by fondling his balls and swallowing around him tightly, the man’s hips bucking from the sensations, causing you to gag as his hands remove from your hair and hover before you— as though he wants to touch your body, needing something to anchor himself to, but is hesitant without your explicit permission.

“f— fuck, i’m sorry, my lady. didn’t— didn’t mean to, can’t control it.”

you hum around him as a way to say it’s okay. your hands wrap deliberately around his wrists, bringing his open palms to your breasts. his eyes are almost innocent in the way they widen at the first brush of your hardened nipples against his hands, hesitant yet eager in how he finally begins to fondle them in his hold.

“oh shit…”

the feeling of your plump breasts being squished between his kneading hands becomes an immediate addiction to jay. and judging by the shaken little exhale you breathe against his pelvis, it’s making you feel good too. which only makes jay feel even more pleasured, knowing that his hands are making your body feel good, the man groaning lowly as he gropes at your tits with more confidence.

jake lets out a particularly loud, needy whimper that reminds jay that he’s still in the room, looking over to the younger.

his entire cock is drenched in pre cum, the tip literally drooling in little strings that land on his thighs or the chair below. his entire body is stripped, jake having taken off his clothes sometime when neither of you were paying attention. his hips thrust into his hand desperately, stomach quivering and muscles taught by the intense sensations that wrack over his body.

jay would laugh at him if he weren’t breathing so heavily from your hands and mouth, but he does manage to tease jake a little further by pinching one of your nipples, causing you to moan out prettily as your thighs spread open a little more, your own cunt becoming needy to be touched.

when jake notices jay’s cocky yet blissed out smirk, he’s unable to even glare at him, his climax rapidly approaching.

“y/n, p— please can i cum?”

“not yet, pup.” you order to his dismay, the boy whining childishly, making you clench at the pretty sound.

“l— lovely?”

“hm?” you hum around jay, making eye contact with the man who’s cheeks are ruddy and lips bitten red. he looks absolutely ravished, and you’ve only had him in your mouth.

“can you go faster, please? wan’ want to come now.”

“yes, darling. fill my mouth, hm?”

right after you speak, you attach your lips around his cock again and don’t hold anything back— for the first time tonight.

a bead of your spit drips down his length as the raunchy sounds of your mouth bouncing up and down his cock, piercing your throat fills the room. jay cannot hold back his wanton moans, or help the way his hips hump along with the fast pace you’ve set. his hands move from your tits to cup your face,

fingers trembling against your skin.

“oh, oh dearest— i’m cumming, i’m cumming!”

his seed erupts from his tip and fills your mouth as you do your best to swallow it all down, jay’s girthy cock pumping against your lips as his juices just keep coming, his powerful orgasm lasting long.

he’s trembling when you finally pull off, yet his hands grab at your body frantically, pulling you up until his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss that has you moaning into his mouth. jay sucks on your tongue, the dirty taste of his cum staining it somehow only arousing him further as he sighs blissfully.

when the kiss is finally broken jays eyes are drooped sleepily, and you help him scoot up on your bed and lay him down.

“just rest here, my dark angel. i’m gonna take care of jakey now.” you whisper after kissing his cheek tenderly. jay only nods, humming out dreamily as you rise from the bed.

“miss, please.” jake begs as he watches you get down on your knees before him now, his eyes teary and hand still roughly fisting his cock, stopping just below the head every now and then to fend off his climax.

he watches the cruel smile that stretches your enchanting lips as you see what a mess he’s made of himself— just from watching the two of you.

“my, jakey. you really are such a dirty little puppy.” you wonder aloud before pushing off his hand to replace it with your own, jake moaning long and drawn out just from the simple touch— feeling as though he’s about to fall apart after practically having to edge himself this entire time.

you break the string of his precum connecting to his trembling thighs when you encase him in your mouth, not bothering going slow with him— as you know no matter what you do he'll be cumming down your throat quickly.

jake’s whimpers are high pitched and cracked from his sore throat, panting between each pathetic sound as you move your mouth up and down his cock just like jay’s.

jake’s cock is a little longer than jay’s with less girth, making you think of how good the older’s could stretch you open, while jake’s could kiss your cervix with each thrust.

you moan around him as you find yourself unable to keep your hands off of your own neglected clit, rubbing your slick around and around it just enough to give you some relief.

“kiss— wanna kiss you!” jake begs, voice so broken and desperate that you hurry to give him what he cries for, sitting up on your knees and letting him lick and drool into your mouth while your hand still rapidly fucks his cock.

the kiss is sloppy and can hardly be called a kiss, but the sensuality of it riles you up all the same, jake’s stuttering hips rutting into your hands while his brows furrow, eyes squeezing shut and sobbing as you feel him squirt all over your fist, white stripes shooting out everywhere, some even landing on your stomach or the bottom swell of your tits.

his cock never softens, even when you’re sure his orgasm has finished, he doesn’t even ask you to stop— he simply cries and trembles, never once shying away from your hand.

“lets go to the bed, puppy. come, that’s a good boy.”

“good. good boy.” jake mutters cutely to himself as he hardly can stand up on his own, clinging to you in a hug immediately after you help him upright. you have to walk him backwards to the mattress as you have no intentions of making him separate from you, your seizing heart wouldn’t allow it. he’s so adorable and needy.

“yes, jakey. you’re such a good boy. lay down, sweetheart.”

“yes, miss.” he squeaks obediently, lying against the sheets as you straddle his hips and admire him from above.

his thick tufts of hair splay out beautifully around his head, a few tear tracks glistening on his pink little cheeks while big brown eyes gaze up at you like you’re the one who’s hung the stars above, lighting up the darkness.

“i love you…” jake confesses in a tender whisper, that somehow still hits you with such power you audibly gasp.

“i’m sorry, but i do love you so terribly much, my beautiful girl. i just couldn’t keep from saying it.”

“i love you too.” jay adds after turning on his side, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips. “so much it makes my heart ache.”

you’re silent, unable to find words as jay rubs his thumb over your knuckles, and jake’s hands move up and down your sides soothingly.

“we know it’s soon, y/n. you don’t have to say it back—“

“i love you!” you exclaim, much more loudly and ungraceful compared to their adoring words encased with tender tones. but you mean it all the same, and it hits them just as powerfully.

“i’m— i’m in love with you both.”

jay is unable to keep himself from sitting up and hurriedly kissing your lips, hand grasping the nape of your neck while your mouths wetly smack together.

jay confesses his affections once more, uttered against your panting lips, before pulling away and letting you lower your body down against jake, wrapping him up in just as passionate of a kiss.

“my love, p— please put me inside. need to feel your warmth around me.”

“yes, puppy.” you grant, voice airy as you’re still catching your breath.

when your hand takes hold of his still hard and throbbing length, jake winces at the mix of slight pain— which only heightens his pleasure as he finds himself enjoying the overstimulation. when the tip breaches your sopping entrance jake’s entire body shivers, and you don’t even bother hiding the cocky smirk that lifts your lips, the boy whining in response as his cheeks blush so prettily.

choked little grunts and moans come from jake as you slowly slide down to the hilt, releasing a sigh of your own as you get used to the feeling of his long cock inside your cunt.

“fuck, s— so warm, n’tight.”

“are you alright, darling?” you check, brushing a delicate hand over his hot cheek.

his damp eyes look up to yours, staring at you as his brain needs more time to process your words when he’s distracted by the overwhelmingly good yet unfamiliar feeling of his cock being encased in such soft warmth. then he’s frantically nodding his head, as pleads fall from his swollen lips.

“m’okay. please move, y/n. i’ll be a good boy, please?”

you wrap your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips before you start riding your hips up and down his shaft. jake’s reaction is immediate, eyes squeezing shut and pushing back into the pillows as his large hands squeeze into the comforting flesh of your hips. you find your cunt needy from all the messing around and lack of attention before this, feeling a fluttery pressure in your stomach build and build quickly with each time jake’s cock impales your womb.

jake feels a natural sort of instinct as his pleasure grows, his hands moving to press your waist against his stomach, tilting the angle differently before he plants his feet firmly into the mattress and starts fucking up into your pussy.

you cry out as you feel new colors burst behind your eyelids, falling forward and subsequently burying jake into your breasts.

the man only groans as he wonders if he’s died a second death and has somehow made it to heaven, his shining slick lips mouthing over your tits until they brush over your bud and he sucks it inside. what he and jay lack in experience they more than make up for it with their passion and love for you. you’re not sure if only a small twinkle of moments have passed, or if it’s been an otherworldly eternity. all you know is that as jake flicks his eager, desperate tongue over your nipple, and one of his hands move to rub little patterns against your clit, you feel your climax quickly approaching.

“oh— good boy. good boy, jakey. k— keep doing that.”

“can i come inside of your pussy, miss? i— i—“

“yes!” you cry out desperately as your legs start to tremble, thanking every god out there that you studied so many vampiric literature, or you wouldn’t have known vampires can’t procreate.

“inside! inside me, p— please, puppy!”

“y— yes, miss.” jake whimpers sweetly, rutting into you deeper as he hugs your body against his. “puppy’s gonna give it to you, gonna fill your cunt up with my cum. sh— shit!”

the second you feel his warmth filling you, you’re seeing stars, reaching your high along with jake as he pants and kisses sloppily at your neck.

you collapse into his chest, your rib cages rising and falling in sync as you catch your breath.

you hear a swallowed moan, and turn your head to see jay’s eyes squeezed shut, jerking off his own cock furiously.

“don’t you dare waste that, jay.”

“w— what, my lady?” he flinches, hand immediately stopping its frantic movements as his eyes widen from being caught.

“i want you inside me too, love. come,” you beckon him, legs still laying open as you're laid against jake.

“b— but, if you’re tired—“

“nonsense. please come fuck me before i ride you myself.”

jay thickly swallows, evidently not expecting this outcome.

he moves somewhat unsurely, positioning himself behind you between the entanglement of your and jake’s legs. you lift yourself up on your knees, presenting yourself so lewdly to the man as a furious red burns up his neck. you giggle at him, jay looking away from your pussy that has jake’s cum leaking out of it to see that you’re peering at him over your shoulder— the image becoming a new core memory for jay, one he’s sure he’ll never forget in his eternal lifetime as his thoughts tell him you’re the perfect picture of pure beauty and raw sensualism.

jay slowly pushes into your wet heat, more of jake’s cum gushing out as his girthy shaft stretches you deliciously, a drawn moan escaping your lips.

“there you go, angel. fuck my cunt. y’fill me up so good.”

jay shudders at your praise, hips stuttering at the foreign pleasure as he finds his rhythm.

he doesn’t want this to end, but he knows he can’t last long inside your wet heat as you feel him twitch uncontrollably inside you— noticing how his eyes squeeze shut while his hands squeeze handfuls of your hips— holding himself back.

“let go, darling. pussy’s too good not to fill it, right?”

jay cums with groan at your words, rutting into you with reckless abandon— his sudden roughness causing your eyes to roll back as you reach release once more.

even as you both come down, neither man seems able to catch their breath— even as satisfied exhaustion weighs down their eyelids.

jay falls against your chest while jake cuddles into your sides wordlessly, and it’s not long until their breathing descends into a slow and deep pattern, feeling their chests sink and rise rhythmically against you.

you’re a little drained, but you clearly don’t feel as exhausted as the boys who just gave up their chastity to you. as you lay in their hold, you bask in the moonlight that pours out the window and think of how strongly you feel an emotional bond to these men— almost magical like in its force. you feel a calm, deep happiness, as though all the strings attaching you to your problems have been cut. and yet…

you can’t help but heed to that small voice in your head, which is hissing in urgency at you to get up— that now’s the perfect time to put your plan in action.

and you know that you must listen. even if it stings your heart a bit when you slowly rise from the bed and jake’s lips pout and jay’s brows furrow in their sleep. even when that strange force you’re probably just imagining in your mind aches for you to return. you simply try your best to ignore it, gathering your clothing, only putting enough layers to be somewhat presentable if you are caught— universe forbid.

as you’re making your quiet descent out of the cathedral, you grab what you’re fairly certain is jay’s cloak draped over his bedroom door knob. it’s black as night, perfect for what you’ll need it for— and you veil it over yourself quickly.

the heavy door is loud as you push it open, a low, haunting creek almost making you feel as though it’s warning you to turn back.

but you tell yourself you must as you step out into the dark and shut the door behind you, knowing this could be your only opportunity.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

WHO IS THE DEVIL;

the soft glow of dawn is like a bright, orange trim sewn into the horizon.

you don’t dally, hurrying to push open the cathedral’s large heavy doors once more.

the ridiculously long stairs are no match for you now as you hurry towards your bedchamber— hoping to find the boys still fast asleep in your sheets. despite your rush, you try to calm your heavy breathing from all that running you did through the woods and up the stairs, before twisting the door knob carefully.

what you find is an empty room, your heart quickening yet again in alarm as you step deeper into the room, your lovers clearly not tangled into the covers as you left them— and neither are the drapes as they were before. they’re drawn tightly shut, a candle near your bedside the only light.

“where the hell where you?” a quiet tone with sharp edges speaks behind you, causing you to jump and turn to see the two men standing behind you.

your initial gasp turns to a sigh of relief, your hand pressing to your chest.

“goodness, jay. you scared me. why must you both always sneak up behind me like that?”

your voice turns somewhat playful at the end, as you lightly giggle, the smile on your lips quickly falling when you see the expression on their faces.

jay’s jaw is tensed and his brows are tilted in anger, hardened eyes reminding you of the day you met— but the vulnerability is very obvious to spot for you now. he looks…hurt— you realize with a rapidly sinking stomach.

and jake’s eyes almost appear like he’d been crying.

“what…what happened?”

“what happened?” jay scoffs credulously, taking a step closer as he gestures to your form with the wave of his hands. “what happened to you, did you go outside? you’re wearing my cloak!”

“i—…i’m sorry, my love.”

jake’s face suddenly crumples as he looks down, akin to a wilted flower that’s finally falling apart.

your own eyes widen in alarm, beginning to walk closer to him to take him in your arms— if it weren’t for jay’s gentle yet commanding hand on your stomach, or how jake backs away into the corner, shoulders hunched as his arms wrap around himself in a hug.

“you left.” he croaks, and you feel somewhat confused as to how strong his reaction is to that fact— not expecting this emotional of a moment when you returned home— until he says his next words.

“you slept with us— with me, and— and told me you loved me, n’ then you leave?”

that sting you felt in your heart when you first left them now feels like someone’s crushing it in their hand, and it only gets worse as jake starts letting out little sniffles and hushed cries. your shocked face looks up to jay, who’s also avoiding your gaze as he turns his head from you.

“jake, jay— you didn’t…you didn't think i had abandoned you both, did you?”

a sniff, clearing of his throat, and then jay meets your eye contact, his angry resolve cracking ever so slightly with each second he has to look at you.

“we didn’t know what to think. we still don’t, y/n…”

without needing any more prompting, you hurry and plunge your hand into the deep pocket of jay’s cloak, soon fishing out the items as they jingle slightly when you pull them out, letting them hang from your outstretched hold.

“…a pendant?” jay utters, thoroughly confused.

jake rubs his eyes to look at the glittering silver in your hand, brown orbs irritated and glossy.

“they’re enchanted. you will be able to walk in the daytime when you wear them.”

neither of them speak, but jay’s sadness poorly hidden by anger has seemed to have left, though he still appears to be slow at processing the information you tell him as he comes closer and takes one of the necklaces from your hand. the pendent is too rounded to be heart-like in shape— but it’s close. a burnt orange crystal carved into a point hangs right beside the larger silver piece.

“what is this?” he asks softly, pointing to the charm.

“tigers eye.” you answer simply, hesitant in your movements as you silently ask for the necklace back with an open hand. jay gives it to you and you stand on your tiptoes to clasp the jewelry around his neck. you bite down the small grin that wants to curve your lips when jay bends his knees to help your height difference.

once you’re done, the man looks down at the way it rests against his chest, taking it into his hand again as the metal feels cool in his palm.

“you really couldn’t have just told us, love?”

“would you have let me?” you answer his question with another, and you know what jay’s response would be as he doesn’t even say anything back. instead, he sighs— trying to convert frustration despite how he moves to wrap you up in his arms, the both of you melting into the hug.

“the timing was horrid.”

“yes. i see that now.” you mean it apologetically, but jay chuckles at your words, putting a smile on your own face.

jake sniffling once again has the man releasing his hold on you, looking back at his friend before giving you encouraging eyes to go comfort the poor boy.

your steps are slow, like you're approaching a wounded animal.

“jakey?” you softly coo, the boy looking up at you with eyes that were starting to dry— now rapidly filling back up with crystal tears. the next thing you know he’s running into your chest, wrapping his arms around your waist as he cries against you.

“didn’t— didn’t intend to accuse you, b— but, i was so scared you weren’t coming back.”

“i’m so sorry, darling. i’d never leave either of you. i love you.”

your hand pets over his thick locks, jake reacting by fisting the fabric of your dress even tighter in his hold and nuzzling his nose against your neck— yet he still is restless. jay walks to stand behind you and removes the cloak from your shoulders, throwing it onto the bed.

“jay?”

“be still, love. i think this should help him.”

jay’s delicate fingers slip beneath the trim of your blouse, pulling it down until it’s past both of your shoulders. the bites you received last night are now exposed, along with a peek of your breasts. jake nuzzles into them with a puppy-ish whimper, but jay cups the back of his neck from behind you, pulling his head up until jake spots the bruised flesh he marked last night. with a small moan that has you pulsing in surprise, jake presses an opened mouth kiss over the bite, licking and sucking at your skin without actually sinking his teeth in. jay moves to do the same, leaning over your other shoulder and peppering his mark with more controlled pecks before he swipes his tongue over it as well.

you’re unable to contain an aroused shudder, especially when jay’s hand twists around your body to grope lewdly at your tits.

after a few torturously teasing minutes, jake seems to come back to his own mind, kissing up your neck, around your jaw, and finally to your lips— before pulling away.

“thank you.” he sighs, giving jay a meaningful eye as well when the older pulls away from your shoulder, forcing his hands away from your breasts.

you only give a breathless smile, taking the second necklace that’s been clenched between your now sweaty palm and clasping it around his neck as well.

“you need to keep them hidden. don’t let anyone see them, lest they grow suspicious.”

you receive easy agreeances as they slip the pendants under their clothes. jay moves to stand in front of you by jake’s side, while you cover your mouth as a long yawn forces its way out.

“tired, miss?” jake smiles fondly, eyes now having their usual happy twinkle as the boys have a little more energy than you, thanks to their nap and not traipsing through the woods as you did.

“yes. we need to change our sleep schedules now that you two won’t burn in the sun.”

“you’re right, my lady. but for now lay down. me and jake will likely be awake for a few more hours before we have the urge to sleep. we’ll wake you when it’s lunch time.” jay assures, helping you to the bed with a gentle hand.

“y/n?” jake begins, just after the older presses a kiss to your forehead and picks up his cloak, about to slip out. “where did..you get the necklaces?”

“uh, i…just don’t fret over it, puppy. we’re safer now because of it, yes?”

“r— right.” jake responds gently, jay following him as they bid you a good sleep once more before shutting the door.

the sounds of their footsteps echo down the hall, feeling strange as the sunrise gracing the sky filters through the windows, not having walked in the face of the sun in almost a century— and yet all they can think of is you.

“where…where do you think—“

“she’s a witch, jake.” jay insists with a fearful yet powerful tone that has goosebumps rising on jake’s flesh. “what other explanation is there?”

“but you— you don’t know that.”

“do you know the materials witches use for magic?” jay asks with a snappy tone, turning on his heel to look his best friend in the eyes.

“e— elements, rituals…um—“

“herbs.”

jay shoves the cloak into jake’s hands before impatiently lifting them up to jake’s nose.

“smell that?”

the brunet takes a sniff, the scent wafting off the material terribly blatant now that it’s been pointed out to him.

“basel and…cinnamon?”

“whatever it is, i don’t care. this was already scary when i thought we had to prove a human innocent— then we fell in love with her and it got even worse. and now we have to find a way to prove to these crazy villagers that y/n isn’t a witch when she truly is?”

jake hears the panic in jay’s voice that quickly becomes cracked, pulling away the man’s hands that harshly press into his temples to wrap him in a tight hug.

“i’m scared too, okay?” jake confesses, whispering softly as jay squeezes him back. “we just…we can’t let anything happen to her.”

“what if we turned her?” jay asks darkly intense, trembling.

“…we don’t have her permission to do that and it’s way too soon to ask— despite how badly i’d like to…besides, it wouldn’t keep her safe. if they hung her and she didn’t die then they’d know what she is and would drive a stake through her heart.”

jay lets out a trembled exhale, his head still aching as the visual of your limp body hung by the neck, head leaning unnaturally to the side as crimson blood drips from the cavity in your chest and down your clothes haunts his mind. jay tries his best to disperse the image, squeezing his eyes shut before blinking them open a few times.

“we can’t let that happen.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the day has finally come.

it’s been a month and a half since you first walked into the old cathedral and it will be the first time in years that jake and jay will be walking out of it, unsure of when they will return.

you leave at night, not wanting anyone to spot you when you appear like such strange travelers— having no luggage. it takes you about an hour and a half to reach town when walking so leisurely, which was at jay’s suggestion— the man fretting that it’s dark and if any of you were to trip and fall it could quickly become a detrimental situation.

your steps are now hurried and anxious as you walk through town, urging the boys to follow closely as you’re dying to get farther away from the heart of town and quickly to your father’s farm.

the next few minutes are spent with your hearts beating out of your chest, the boys looking over their shoulder for your sake— and you in worry for theirs. you avoid lampposts, duck past opened windows, and try to keep your footsteps as silent as possible— all while praying there’s no one staking it out for the night, waiting to catch you.

“boys,” you whisper excitedly, pointing to the dark silhouette of your old house. the three of you hurry up the hill, confident enough to run as you're a few miles away from the main square of town, surrounded by rolling fields of corn and grass. when you reach the front door your heart is still beating out of your chest— but this time it’s by happiness, overjoyed in anticipation to see your father again. pushing open the door so hard it almost falls off its hinges, the boys follow you into your abode much more calmly, yet breathing out a sigh of relief for successfully reaching the refuge. loving smiles grace their lips as they watch you eagerly looking around the house for your father.

“y/n?” that familiar voice calls. it’s not as smooth from the years he’s lived, but it speaks with just as much tenderness as when you were a child— likely because no matter how many days pass, he’ll always see you as his little girl.

“father!” you cry, the tears immediately bubbling up in both of your eyes as you practically fall into each other's arms, the hood of the cloak you wear slipping down with the momentum. his frame is much frailer than when you last saw him, which you note with a heavy heart.

“i thought you to be dead! they— they said they couldn’t find you, but there were rumors of a body found— eaten by a bear.”

“no, no, father. i’m fine! i’m completely all right.” you spoke between sobs, wiping at your tears to gaze at his face. “you’re so thin…”

“i haven’t been able to eat or keep down hardly anything. i was looking for you. every day i’d scour the forest and then try again the next day.” he takes a gasp of air, choking on his words yet trying desperately to speak— as he has so much to say. “oh, my precious girl. thank god you’re alive.”

it takes a while for you to gather yourselves, but once your eyes are almost dried— your father finally takes notice of the two men standing silently in the room.

“who are these gentlemen?”

“oh! father,” you begin, wiping your cheeks while underlying excitement is tangible in your tone. you walk over to your two lovers, holding both of their hands.

looking at jay’s facial expression is like looking through a window, clearly a bundle of nerves to meet the love of his life’s father. jake’s also worried— but only you and jay would know it. his hand is shaking in your hold, and although his smile is just as wide and beautiful as always, his eyes show a tinge of fright.

“these are the men that saved me.” you explain vaguely, a line all three of you settled on to say.

your father was old, but he wasn’t old fashioned. you have no doubt he’d be just as overjoyed to hear you have two lovers just the same as if you only had one. but jake and jay had their reservations, and just for the sake of not springing too much upon them— you planned to wait and tell your father of your relationship later into the future.

“this is jay and jake,” you gesture, both young men holding out their hands for your father to shake. but instead he steps forward and pulls them both in a hug, one that has jay and jake almost blanching from the powerful emotions he portrays with it— the thankfulness and love of a parent. something they haven’t felt in a long time.

“i’m eternally grateful to you. thank you for keeping my girl safe.”

“of course.” jake answers for the both of them, a sweet smile on his face despite his slightly breathless voice.

eventually the conversation leads to the plan, how you’ll sleep in the hay barn’s loft (for safety, to not hide in such an obvious spot as your home— but also because it’s too small to contain 4 people anyway) and wake tomorrow to get proof of your whereabouts.

“i only have one to spare, but you’ll want to take a quilt with you. i’m sure you all know after your journey that it’s cold out there.”

“yes, father. i’ll fetch them.” you say cheerily, disappearing into another room, leaving the two boys with him.

there’s a moment of awkward silence, and just when jake is going to start rambling about something to break it— your father speaks up.

“though i’m sure neither of you will mind having to share one blanket with y/n, hm?”

jay and jake’s eyes grow wide as your father smirks with playfulness, enjoying their embarrassment.

“sir, what…what do you know?” jay asks after an uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

“i know that you are in love with my daughter.” he states, the young men speechless at your father’s wisdom and how he so blatantly calls them out. jay desperately prays that what you said about your father being a hopeless romantic is true, and jake is mentally preparing to get punched and barated by your father.

instead, he does neither of those things— he only huffs good naturedly at the boys for thinking they were so good at hiding their affections for you, when he could tell the moment your eyes met with theirs.

“oh, come now. it’s quite obvious in the way you look at her. surely you see that in each other, yes?”

jay and jake glance at the other before nodding shyly. your father chuckles. “well, you have my blessing. just promise to keep her happy and safe for me, alright?”

“yes, sir.” both men respond without hesitation— because that’s all they want for you as well. they want you to be happy and safe with them.

before anyone can say anything else— you’re entering the room again, a folded up quilt in hand and ready to lead them to the barn and have a good night’s rest.

when morning comes you all wake surprisingly comfortably. you’ve come to find that sleeping on a huge pile of uncontained hay really isn’t that bad. jay and jake insist on feeding from you before walking around in public, and you assume it’s just for extra strength— but in reality it’s because both boys are concerned about being recognized as vampires for their pale skin— and drinking your blood helps bring some color to their cheeks.

“so, which of your clients do you think is trustworthy enough that they won’t go screaming about in the streets the second they see you’re back in town?” jay asks plainly, his nerves reaching great heights as you watch him pace about the dirty barn floor, while you’re tucking your hair into the hood of your cloak.

“i still don’t think you should go, my love. it’s very risky.” jake frets, biting his lip so harshly you worry it may burst.

“boys!” you firmly call, halting the fiddling of your clothes to look both of them in the eyes with a stern stare.

“no matter what we do it’ll be risky…” you say with a much gentler tone, trying to calm them as best as you can. “do you think i’m not scared also? if i let you two go out there alone you’ll have no idea who to look for or where you’re going. further more, if people see two strangers going around town asking others about me, they’ll most likely take you for a prisoner as well.”

jay growls out a sigh, his pacing beginning again as jake nibbles on his bottom lip even more.

you hurry to take hold of jay’s hand and stop him, cupping jake’s face to free his lip from between his teeth at the same time.

“don’t worry. i know what we’ll do. there’s an old woman that lives close to here with her grandson, jungwon. they’re old family friends, we can trust them. jungwon just so happened to have helped me all throughout the week before i was accused, on account of i had so much work to do and he offered. if he’ll agree to testify on my behalf— which i think he will, then hopefully that will be enough for the townsfolk to believe me.”

“and if not?” jake asks, eyes soft as they stare at you in a way that makes you feel sad. you choose your next words carefully.

“…we can only pray jungwon’s courage to speak up will inspire others to do so as well.”

….silence.

jay and jake eyes can only look at you, as if the rest of the world has all vanished— and it might as well, because the thing they care about the most in all of their miserable existence is right here before them. their chests ache. all they desire to do is go lay back down and spend the rest of eternity with you, in your own little bubble of reality you’ve been overindulging in up until now.

but they know that’s not what you want, and it’s not fair to you. honestly, they owe themselves more also. jake and jay spent almost a century of their undead life running away, not giving themselves a chance to have anything worth fighting for— but now that they have you, they do.

and so they are done running away.

“alright.” jay agrees, looking to his best friend who nods his head determinedly.

“let’s go.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

jungwon is crouched over tending to his grandmother’s garden and collecting all that he can before the approaching winter kills everything in its wake. the cool autumn breeze soothes the thin sheen of sweat that sticks to his nape when suddenly the young boy spots movement at the edge of his vision.

“hello?” he shouts, his voice echoing across the distance between him and the strangers. it appears to be two men, and one cloaked form.

jungwon heaves an annoyed sigh, supposing it is the council again, coming around to check over various households for another poor soul they’ve decided to demonize.

“gran! they’re here again!” jungwon opens up the front door to call out before shutting it behind him. he doesn’t speak, only standing and waiting until the three strangers are right before him. “can i help you?” he asks with a tone that’s trying to appear polite, but his thin thread of patience is clearly about to snap.

“jungwon…” you whisper with a playful smile— the only part of your face that isn’t hidden by your hood. the youngest’s eyes grow wide as they flick from jake and jay to you. he’d recognize your voice from anywhere, and suddenly he can see that it’s not a stranger underneath that cloak— but a longtime friend.

“y/n!”

he almost pushes your two lovers out of the way by knocking them with his wide shoulders, jungwon not even aware of it as he throws his arms around you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and causing you to burst into joyous laughter as he spins you around.

“what are you doing here?” he asks with a wide smile, eyes catty with mirth as he stares at you— like he can’t believe you’re really back.

“i came for you, actually.”

before you can explain anything more, jungwon’s grandmother is opening the front door, a grin that shines with love greeting all of you as she urges the four of you to enter the house.

“i’ll do it.” jungwon says with fiery determination after all the introductions and explaining is over. “of course i’ll do this for you, y/n. when you left…i thought i might never see you again. but now that you’re back— i can’t bear the thought of you having to leave again, or worse.”

you smile, and it’s a little tight with the last implication jungwon is hardly able to even utter— but right at that moment a cup billowing with steam is sat before you, his grandmother quick to serve the rest of the men also.

“what is this?” jake asks, but the answer is made clear when the steam reaches his nose, the fresh, icy scent almost making him feel more energized.

the elderly woman answers anyway after plucking off a few extra leaves from a small plant that sits at the window sill, along with a row of other potted herbs. she sprinkles the leaves into jungwon’s cup, knowing he likes his a little stronger.

“mint tea with a little ginger. it should give you a bit of a boost. i always drink it when the weather starts to turn cold.”

the woman turns an inquisitive eye towards jake and jay, forehead wrinkling as she looks them over from head to toe.

“although, it seems that you two aren’t very affected by the cold weather.”

the two men stiffen as you remain clueless to the little exchange, none of you considering that their usual attire of a vest and suit with no other coat could implement to their lack of needing warmth— considering their vampirism makes them ‘cold blooded’. jake keeps his wide eyes on the woman, while jay glances at you and jungwon, oblivious as you’re wrapped into a conversation with one another.

jay feels a wave of something he can’t identify prickle across his skin, feeling the air change between the three of you— and whatever it is, it’s not good. the old woman’s lips morph into a kind smile across her face, yet jake feels strangely sick with some sort of anxiety as it all of a sudden hits him. you’re all in an old woman’s house— in the middle of farmlands, with practically no one else around. there’s a garden outside and herbs lined all along the window sill. and now…now is she sensing that they’re vampires as well?

perhaps he and jay were wrong in their theory of you being a witch— maybe the person who gave you those enchanted necklaces…was right in front of them.

but that doesn’t inherently make the old woman evil— so what is this dread that lays so heavily in jake’s stomach?

looking over to jay, the older shares a look with him that says he feels it as well.

“ma’am…wh—“

before jay can finish his sentence, there’s an aggressive pounding at the door, a loud shout following quickly after.

“it’s the terminer! open up!”

instinctively, you all get up and huddle in a corner of the room, trying to make sure you’re out of view from the windows. jay’s breathing picks up as his hand tightly grasps your arm, pushing you farther behind him than you already are as jake pulls you into his arms and jungwon shields his grandmother with his body— already worrying of her getting seriously injured if a ruckus were to break out. no one says anything for a moment, jay tilting his neck out as little as he could to get a glimpse out the window in front of you.

“there’s multiple men out there—“

“the town council.” jungwon practically hisses, and jay has a brief thought of wondering how awful some of the people in this town must be to make hatred burn in the young boy’s eyes— before it sounds like someone kicks at the locked door.

“open up or we’ll enter by force!”

“hurry, hurry!” jungwon harshly whispers, pulling your hood back over your head and pushing you toward a tall cabinet that’s recessed into the wall— appearing big enough to fit you in. jake hurries along to help while jay braces to fight, the sound of thunderous kicking now becoming resounding through the small cottage.

jungwon opens the cabinet and a plethora of dry goods and jars of food go tumbling onto the floor. jake desperately tries to pick everything up quickly, shoving it into another cabinet as jungwon helps you step in and squeeze beside a dusty broom. your limbs are cramped, still unable to push yourself deep enough into the small, cluttered space before a rock is thrown through the window, breaking it and sending shards of glass across the floor.

jay moves to protect jungwon’s grandmother from the glittering rain of sharp pieces as jungwon and jake uselessly try to help you hide— yet it makes no difference in the end.

as someone throws a coat over the jagged edges of the now broken window to jump inside— the door busts down. angry men pour through and flood the small space, easily spotting jake and jungwon’s trembling hands still trying to maneuver your body.

one man— the terminer, moves towards you as you feel like your stomach has been filled with sand. jay yells out and the sound is so scary and desperate in his fear, and as your round eyes move to look at your love— you regret it.

jay only leaves the old woman’s side to protect you— but he’s not even close to reaching you before three men gang around him, twisting his arm back behind him with unrestrained force and tangible malice. jay groans as his eyes shut in pain, still trying to fight the men off before they push him into the wall. and then you can no longer see jay, the backs of the men shielding him from your eyes as you can also not see whatever their hands are doing to him.

then you hear a thud, the floor shaking. and that’s when the men start kicking who you can only assume is jay on the ground.

“stop! stop!” you cry just as jake’s hand grabs at the terminer’s arm, readying to fight as well— while jungwon still stands in front of you. you push him away with a heavy heart, fully exposing yourself to all of them.

“i’ll go with you, don’t hurt them. i’ll go.”

you feel bile rise in your throat with how cruelly the terminer smiles at you, quick to pull chains out from his bulky coat and shackle them to your obediently raised wrists.

jake is unable to abide by your wishes, screaming out your name as you hear the sound of movement— and then struggle. there’s a wail of pain that sounds too much like jake— and then a guttural shout from jay.

your crying at this point as panic strikes you, trying to turn your head and be able to see past the broad bodies of the two men who are leading you out of the house. but before you even can look you’re roughly jostled in their hold on you, pushing you forward with a jolt that causes you to gasp and almost trip over your own feet.

“keep moving forward, witch.” the terminer growls, spit flying from his clenched teeth to land in your cheek. your eyes squeeze shut at the action, tilting your head away from his face.

then there’s a fainter cry, another dull thud— and jungwon’s watery voice that cracks from behind you.

“no— stop! don’t touch her!”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

by the time you’re led to the bridge that overlooks a deep, dried out river way— which is nothing but a long drop to jagged rocks and death— the small population of your town has formed a huge crowd as they follow you— either after spotting or hearing the ruckus as you, jay, jake, and jungwon were pulled along throughout the streets.

you dread to think of where jungwon’s grandmother is, or what’s become of her— and as though you’ve summoned your father just as you think of him— you hear him shout as he pushes his way to the front of the crowd.

“no! wait— let my daughter go! she’s not guilty!”

you’re brought to the middle of the bridge as the rest of the onlookers are guarded by men with torches and sharply spiked spears, warning them to stay back. you almost stumble to the ground when you’re shoved in front of the town’s priest, who must have already been called for the occasion as he stands with an evil air and proudness in his eyes— like you’re the vermin he’s finally caught, and your death will be his trophy of victory.

a heavy noose is swung over your neck, almost making you fall backward as you have to use more strength to lean forward and stay upright. the pressure against your neck is more than uncomfortable— it’s haunting. as though it’s been waiting for you as it grips around your jugular tightly. you do your best to stifle your tears, painting your face with a calm sort of hostility towards the priest.

you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

“you’ve been found guilty of evading the law and witchcraft— consulting with the devil, of which is punishable by death. repent now and confess your sins.”

your eyes widen, expecting to at least be given a trial and be judged by the council like the others were before being thrown over the bridge and have your neck snapped by the unforgiving rope. but it seems as though your month long evasion has only cemented everyone’s desire to take your life.

“no, she isn’t! she isn’t guilty!” jay— jake, you’re not even sure you can bear to decipher who’s broken voice that is who cries out for you as you keep your eyes forward, only staring with hatred at the same old priest who killed your mother— somehow even that is easier than looking at your loved ones.

maybe you’re a coward.

“i saw her! i— i was with her when she was accused! i know she’s not a witch, just listen to me!” jungwon shouts, trying to get the attention of the people— but it falls on deaf ears that only seem to crave the death of innocent lives.

perhaps you are cursed— but not by being cohorts with the devil. on the contrary, it seems he is against you.

“go on, child. confess.” the priest prompts, the minute and sinister curve to his wrinkled lips.

you take a shaking breath, liquid filling your eyes no matter how hard you try to resist— even as they turn slender with bitterness.

“one of us will in fact burn in hell, reverend.” you bite, voice trembling and low with emotion as you hear the sobs of your lovers— but there’s an underlying power with which you say your next words. “but where you’re wrong is it won’t be me. when you die you’ll wake to fire melting the flesh from your bones, and the red eyes of lucifer himself will be the only face that greets you into eternal damnation.”

that pompous smile is wiped right off the man’s face, and you could almost be satisfied from the flicker of fear in his eyes after he hears your words— if it weren’t for jake and jay’s begging voices yelling out to you again.

“please, y/n, just look at us!”

“will you really refuse us one last glimpse of your face before you die!”

you’re unable to contain your sobs then— and despite that it’s not the emotion you want to show them in your last moments, you lift your head and gaze at them through the tears.

you feel an almost unbearable amount of pain straining your heart, and you wonder if you’ll manage to die from a broken heart before the noose squeezes around your throat. jay’s wounded eye is swollen and bloodied from being beaten and kicked— and his lip is in the same shape. jake’s clothes are torn, a small yet deep break in the skin by the tail of his brow. but the worse thing is by far their tears; how their legs are too weak from devistation to even hold themselves up as the men keep them upright by the rough hold on their arms. how cruel they are— making sure your lovers have a clear view to watch your body be flung over the bridge.

you the crack of your neck won’t echo down the dry river’s trench— for their sake…

“do it.” the priest urges with unbridled rage at your words, and the terminer’s quick to roughly tug you to the bridge’s edge.

suddenly there’s a piercing scream— a stark contrast to the viciously delighted chants of the townspeople.

everyone looks over as a hole is made amongst the crowd, everyone stepping away from one form.

as bodies move, you’re finally able to recognize the person as your father, who’s stood with his eyes closed, hands in front of him and palms up— while you watch his lips move, seeming to be chanting under his breath.

his voice starts to slowly grow in volume— as so does your dread, unknown tongues spilling from his mouth.

there’s a choked sound— and you look just in time to see the priest’s neck crack to the side, the broken edge of his bone poking up against his skin as his eyes open and pupils tremble— like he’s fighting for them not to roll to the back of his head. yet they still do, after a few blood vessels pop and the whites of his eyes are filled with red. the image is burned into your memory as his limp body falls lifelessly off the bridge.

there’s a splat— quickly followed by the gasps of the crowd as you’re grateful that you can’t see how his body is surely busted open and bloody across jagged rocks.

“father, stop!” you cry— but it’s useless.

everyone knows he’s the witch now after witnessing the horrors you know he didn’t want to commit.

but in his mind— he has to stop this.

he did nothing when they killed your mother in favor of raising you, fearing you might wouldn’t survive— at least not happily— if both of your parents were dead and you were left orphaned. but now this is the best choice. he can’t let you or anyone else die. even if it means he will.

“it’s him! it’s him! hang him before he kills us all!” someone yells out amongst the crowd.

everyone is now in a panic, women and children are crying. some run away to evade the impending doom they think your father will reign upon them. a few council members let go of jake and jay in favor of capturing your father, and he does nothing to fight them off as he silences his chants, knowing he’s now too weakened to force all of them off. there’s literally a small army of men ready to fight, and he desires no other blood to be shed. he can only hope this is enough to turn anymore accusations away from you and save your life.

“no, no, please! i beg you!” you scream as someone takes the noose off of your neck and onto his.

your vision turns blurry and strange after that— and so does your hearing, like your ears have been filled with water. all you can hear is muffled screams— you think some of them might be your own. you must be trying to walk forward, but your trembling legs are too weak as you fall to your knees. all you’re able to focus on is your father’s eyes, strained with sadness as he tries his best to hide it from you— giving you one last, quivering smile.

they throw him over the bridge.

the snap of his neck does echo, and the rope cracks from the momentous swing of his limp body.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

EMBERS IN THE ASH;

the mansion is filled with finely dressed people, all having a good time— filling the space with conversation and laughter.

jay and jake are on either one of your sides, the younger’s hand on your waist while the older holds your hand.

there’s the ring of someone dinging their glass, everyone’s head including yours looking up to the town’s mayor as he stands at the upper level balcony, overlooking the whole party.

“if i may have your attention.” the man politely begins, voice bouncing off the marble floors with an echo. “as you all know, this is no ordinary celebration. while this fall festival is to enjoy the festivities and spend time with loved ones, it’s also to remember the lives that were lost to the horrific ‘witch trails’ four years ago.”

the mayor raises his glass of champagne, and the rest of you follow. “a toast, to our family and friends— even strangers, who have passed on.”

you, jay, and jake take a sip of the pale liquid in your sparkling glasses. the taste is bittersweet, and so are your feelings.

your father’s death was tragic— even now, you still wake in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares that force you to watch him die in an endless loop. but his selfless sacrifice wasn’t in vain. after the mass witness of what true witchcraft can really do, and the absence of the priest— who was rotting the anxious minds of the people— things changed for the better. your goodhearted mayor was elected, and hope was reinstalled into all of you. the problem was lack of funds to make the town a better place— and that’s where jake and jay came in. as humans they were born into a wealthy family, and in their undead life that money only grew over the years. the mayor had a strong belief that he’d find good fortune in mining, and jay and jake were happy to invest in the plan— knowing that it could be healing for you and jungwon to have your hometown— that’s filled with fond memories and tragic endings alike, be changed into a better place.

well, the investment struck gold— literally.

the town’s buildings were reconstructed and the influx of wealth attracted businesses and many new opportunities to arise. a clinic was even opened, where jungwon is currently apprenticing to become a doctor.

unfortunately, the day of your father’s death was also his grandmother’s. when the mob came for you, one of the men cruelly pushed her down, and the fall was just too much for her worn body to take. she was clearly in great pain, lying on the floor— but she urged jungwon to go after you.

and when he returned to the cottage— she had already passed on, left on the dirty floor with a hand over her weak heart.

her death and the guilt practically tormented jungwon— it nearly drove him mad. the only person that was able to get through to him was jay, and the two became extremely close in the process. soon the very thing that made jungwon want to end it all fueled his determination. he couldn’t save his grandmother, but how many lives have been lost that could have easily been prevented or aided, even by the simple knowledge of basic first aid or prevention?

jungwon is happy now, sated by his fulfilling work that is never done. it consumes most of his time, but it’s also what brought that sparkle back in his eyes— life. he no longer has the empty stare of a dead man, and for that— none of you can complain for how busy he is.

this brings you back to the present— standing in the huge mansion that you now call home. jay and jake made the arrangements to build it months ago, and it was finally done. so not only is this a fall festival, but it’s also a housewarming of sorts.

“now, for anyone that would like to participate in the corn maze, please make your way outside!”

you flash the boys an excited smile before turning your back to them in favor of following the crowd out the door, but jake stops you with a hand to your forearm.

“we’re— we’re hungry, miss.” he says shyly, yet the way he looks at you with those gleaming, wanting eyes tells you he’s not as bashful as he’s trying to portray.

neither of them should need more blood, you’d just let them feed from you this morning, and the subtle blush on jake’s cheeks give away that they have plenty of blood in their system for him to even be able to have such a reaction. not only that— but jake called you ‘miss’, a title that now after being so far into your relationship he only uses when he’s needy.

your eyes crease in suspicion, gaze moving to look at jay standing right behind jake’s shoulder. he blanches— very minutely, before his head tilts downwards in favor of inspecting the floor beneath his feet.

you bite down a smirk, knowing exactly what game they’re wanting to play.

but you want to play a game of your own.

“later, darlings. i really want to go into the corn maze.”

tugging your arm out of his grip to descend out the front door, you swear you hear jake let out a complaining whine under his breath before both men hurry to follow you.

the air has a slight bite thanks to the chilly air, but the sun shines brightly and everyone is buzzing with excitement— making you feel almost electric.

you run to the entrance of the corn maze, both of your lovers fretting at you not to be so fast as they don’t want to lose you to the small crowd that came outside. you don’t respond to them in favor of looking at each pathway.

you could either go left, right, or straight.

your pause is long enough for jay to think you’re unable to decide as he begins to suggest his idea. “i think we should just constantly go right. eventually we—“

“tag!” you childishly declare, pushing your hand against jay’s chest, giving jake a glance as though to say ‘you too’, before bolting left.

“dearest, don’t fall!” jay calls, quickly running after you. jake mutters out a ‘seriously?’ under his breath, a fond smile on his face as he watches you giggle and look over your shoulder at jay, his best friend’s worry turning to playfulness as your energy fills him with it.

then the two of you turn a corner and jake finally breaks out of his admiring— hurrying to catch up with the both of you before he gets lost trying to find you.

you continue trying to escape their sight as you laugh, turning down different pathways as quickly as you can. dirt crunches beneath your boots and the rustle of crisp corn stalks and your lovers calls and laughter is all you can hear. you must be towards the edge of the maze or something— either way, you don’t think anyone else is nearby.

so with that reassurance and feeling cheeky knowing the boys are so needy, you halt your running and turn towards the direction jake and jay are coming from.

just before they round the corner and appear in front of you, you pull down the neckline of your dress, your chest popping out.

jay’s the first to reach you, stopping dead in his tracks and wide smile falling as he stares at you flashing him.

jake’s giggles aren’t far behind— the puppy practically running into jay’s back.

he’s mid complaint when he steps to the side and finally gets an eyeful of you, that flush rushing back to his cheeks again.

“y— y/n, what are you doing?”

you laugh, covering your modesty as quickly as you revealed it before turning on your heel to run off again— except a rock catches on your boot heel and sends you falling onto the dusty ground.

both men gasp behind you, horniness completely forgotten as they are both by your sides in a second to help you up and make sure you’re not hurt.

“i told you not to run, gorgeous. your dress is way too long for it.” jay gently scolds, cupping your face in his hands as he gives you a onceover.

“sorry, angel. i suppose i got carried away.” you breathlessly laugh, your smile aiding his worry— especially as you press a sweet peck to his cheek that has his eyes sparkling over cutely. jake is busy dusting off the skirt portion of your dress when his heightened sense of smell catches a whiff of something.

“…you’re bleeding, my love.”

“hm?” you hum, somewhat startled as you look down at your hands for cuts or a tear in your long sleeves.

you miss the way jake’s eyes dilate as he slowly hikes your skirts up— all the way to the bend of your thigh. it isn’t until you gasp at a wet sensation against your leg that you look away from your arms and down at the boy on his knees.

there’s a small cut on your inner thigh, yet it’s deep enough to have a long, thin trickle of blood dripping down from it— and jake is licking it up, tongue flattened as he slowly runs the warm appendage up your soft skin. your heart quickens, and you know jay notices it too, as well as smells the scent of your sweet blood. the raven haired wraps wanting arms around your waist, making the hardness in his pants known as it presses against your hip.

“pu— puppy…” you whisper, feeling yourself dampen between your legs as jake whimpers happily in response, kissing the blood trail up your thigh— dangerously close to your core.

once he gets to the actual cut he presses an opened mouth kiss to it, letting out a breathy moan when he sucks at it. at the same time, jay rocks his hips against you, just once— but you know he’s getting more and more worked up as he starts kissing at your neck.

jake’s fangs brush against your wound, jay’s simultaneously raking across the skin of your neck— and you hurry to pull yourself away from them, knowing if you don’t they’ll start feeding from you right where anyone can show up and see.

“we need— a room.” you pant, standing a foot away from them as your chest expands and falls quickly.

jay isn’t hesitant to tell the both of you to follow him, jake clumsily getting up from the ground as the older takes your hand to lead you.

his theory of turning one way the entire time worked— though you’re not sure if he was actually correct or just lucky. either way, jay and jake are on a mission to find somewhere private to ravish you as the older keeps a firm grip on your hand. taking you up the stairs and down a hallway, the sound of music and voices of the now dancing crowd fades away.

“how many bedchambers do we have anyway?” you ask curiously as you look around the fully furnished and decorated space.

jake and jay had given you a tour, but not of the entire mansion, only the bottom floor— the construction was only recently completed and so was purchasing and moving in all the furniture.

“who cares?” jay says impatiently, too pent up. jake speaks at the same time. “four.”

“damn...” you mumble under your breath, jake hurrying in front of you and jay to open a double door, large and white with intricate detailing carved into the wood.

��here it is, love. our room.” jake says softly, eyes shinning and sweet as he watches your reaction to the space closely.

you gasp as you take in how beautifully done it all is. the room is moody, mahogany wood with black tapestries and pops of red. a large, black wardrobe is painted with intricate vines and little flowers spiraling up the surface— and a canopy bed is placed right before you, black curtains draped beautifully.

“you…how did you both even do this? it’s gorgeous! i can’t even express how well done this is.”

“it was all jay.” jake tattles, smiling at the older— who’s already pink in the cheeks when you turn to him.

“you did this?” you ask in wonderment. jay’s hand squeezes yours tighter.

“well…i enjoy fashion, and it translates to room design also..i suppose.”

“oh, angel, i love you.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around kind his neck to kiss him, jay not resisting in the slightest as he smiles against your lips.

“hey! i helped with the bed!” jake whines, though you can hear his smile. the puppy’s hands fall to your waist, pressing up behind you as he nuzzles into your neck for attention.

“of course you did. all you care about is where we’ll lay, isn’t it?” you smirk after separating from the kiss, only to turn your head and give jake a fondly accusing look.

“i refute that accusation.” the brunet denies poorly, unable to keep his cheeky smile at bay.

“i second it.” jay replies dryly, only for his eyes to sparkle with mirth as you giggle against his chest.

“untrue! i have many opinions for the choice in paintings we should put on the wall.”

“and what opinions would that be, jakey?”

his eyes shift to a heated stare as he playfully bites his lip, gaze roaming over the skin and bones of your collar— exposed in your already low cut dress. (it’s rare that you can leave your neck on display given how often the men feed from you, but lately you’ve asked them to bite your wrists instead as you’ve found it’s a more convenient spot and doesn’t rile them up as much as other places on your body— especially since you’re usually wearing long sleeves to shield from the increasingly chilly weather.)

“your flawless face, hung up in every room.” he declares, beginning to press ticklish little kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“hm, i have to admit that’s not a bad idea.” jay smirks, you weakly slapping him on the chest with a bashful smile and shake of the head.

“enough, that’s nonsense.”

jake abruptly sinks to his knees, hand slipping beneath your dress to lightly trail his fingers up your calf— and the grin is wiped right off your face as your eyes widen just barely.

“perhaps even,” jake murmurs hotly, his breath rising goosebumps on your flesh as he slowly collects your skirts in his other hand. you know his face must be close as you feel his nose brush against your thigh. “a painting of your bare skin; these beautiful thighs; your supple breasts.”

your breathing stutters as jake’s tongue teasingly swipes over your core, an airy chuckle made between your legs as the man doesn’t miss how your body starts to tremble.

“though i doubt even the most talented painter could capture how glistening and wet you become for us.”

“as if. i’m not letting any other man besides us look upon her naked body.” jay retorts— the buttons of your dress’s bodice being ripped off a second later when the man forcibly tears it open, pulling your chemise down and causing your breasts to bounce forth. his mouth immediately latches to your tit, sucking at your hardened nipple as his other hand tweeks the other.

at the same time, jake’s tongue gets bolder— moaning at the taste of your arousal.

“i— i thought you said you were hung— hungry.”

“come now, love. you know that’s not what we really wanted.” the brunet gently retorts, drawing a gasp from your lips as his fingers rubs up and down your slit. “your blood does taste sweet, i can still smell it. but there’s something else that i know tastes even sweeter.”

you moan when jake finally stops teasing and attaches his plump lips to your cunt, peeking his tongue out with each open mouth kiss he grants you with.

jay’s hands become firmer as he gropes your tits in both palms. his fangs accidentally brush against your sensitive skin— yet it causes you no pain, only pleasure as your eyes squeeze shut, hands needing something to hold onto as you cup his face in your hands. his shut eyes open to gaze up at you— dark eyes heavy lidded and so sexy as he continues to tenderly suck your bud between his pouty lips.

“oh, angel. you’re so pretty.” you murmur lovingly, at the same time spreading your unsteady legs further apart as jake starts to lose himself in your pussy.

to your dismay, jay pulls off your tits with a pop— but the disappointment doesn’t last long as he begins taking off your dress completely.

“jake, get out so i can get her out of this…jake!”

jay huffs when he gets no answer and the sounds of your dripping pussy squelching in jake’s incessant mouth doesn’t stop, a loud moan forced from you as jay reaches under your dress and pulls jake out from under your skirts by the collar— the suction of jake’s lips around your clit becoming even stronger when he was roughly pulled away from you.

neither man say a word to each other when jay lets go and jake almost falls on his back, the younger only catching his breath and wiping his glistening lips against his hand— and jay removing the layers of your clothing with quick movements.

when you’re stripped bare, you yelp as jay picks you up in his arms— descending into quiet giggles after as your legs wrap around his torso.

laying you in the center of the bed, both men are already kneeled between your spread legs— that you only stretch wider as you look at the two expectantly.

“well? you said you were hungry, so eat.”

both men nearly conk heads as they eagerly lower to get your pussy in their mouths, the following throaty groan and high pitched whine sending a wave of pleasure to your nerves. jay descends down to your pulsing entrance, flicking his tongue out and going a little deeper each time inside you, slowly stretching you out around him. jake suckles at your clit like the brainless little puppy he is, spit drooling out of his mouth to slick your already dripping folds.

“go—“ you swallow around the pleasured sounds that try to escape you, fingers tangling into jake’s hair in an attempt to keep him and you grounded. “go deeper, angel. use your fingers too. i want— i want to have both your cocks tonight.”

“fff— fuck. yes, my lady. whatever you desire.”

jake whimpers at your request, beginning to pathetically hump against the mattress, comforter bunching between his legs— before you pull at the tufts of his hair.

“no, puppy. be good.”

a whine, and then— “sorry, miss.”

as the process of jay stretching you out on his fingers and tongue continue, one finger— two, then four— paired with his wriggling appendage and jake’s ticklish whimpers against your swollen clit, you’re brought closer and closer to ecstasy.

“no— no more. i’m about to cum.” you pant.

but all jake hears is you’re about to cum, and greedily he pushes jay away from your cunt to finger your hole and lick hungrily at your pussy like a crazed animal. you can’t even scold him as you cry and whither against his ministrations, your release filling his mouth.

“bad puppy. so, so bad.” you half heartedly scold. you’re not even entirely certain the boy hears you when he pulls away from your pussy with dazed eyes, tongue almost hanging out of his mouth as your cum sticks to his lips in glossy strings.

“me first.” jay tells jake grumpily— the older using jake’s disobedient moment as a chance to get ahead and take all of his clothes off. he lays on his side next to you, looking at you for permission with begging eyes that have you going along with his every whim immediately.

“go ahead, angel. you can have me how you want me.” you grant, thumb rubbing up and down his temple.

jay presses a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering a thank you before grabbing your thigh and positioning it over his hip.

“this is hardly fair. i wanted to be facing her.” jake whines like a spoiled child, jay rolling his eyes in response.

“you’re the one who started it.”

“i—“

“stop fighting and fuck me!” you raise your voice, feeling edged by how you can feel jay’s hard length poking at your inner thigh, yet it’s not inside you yet.

they both give you an apologetic look before jake’s settling behind your back, pulling himself against you in a hug— while jay delicately glides his cock back and forth through your folds, making sure he’s slick enough for you.

“ready, my lady?”

at your wordless nod jay sinks his bulbous head past your hole, slowly pushing the rest of himself inside. jake repeats the action after ensuring you’re alright, and you moan in complete bliss at the feeling of being so full when jake and jay are both nestled to the hilt in your cunt.

“fuck, can feel your pussy cl— clenching.” jay strangles out, fingers squeezing into the side of your hip. jake sounds as though he’s already about to lose it, hot breath puffing against your shoulder as he nuzzles his face between your neck and shoulder, hands moving from your waist to hold your tits in his needy hands.

“so..good!” he whines, unable to wait for your permission to move as he starts fucking into you with small thrusts, getting used to the feeling of sharing your pussy with another cock.

“shit— jake!” jay grits as though he’s scolding him for his misbehavior— yet he also can’t help rocking his hips into you when his friend starts.

that gummy, sensitive spot is constantly hit as the men thrust into you at the opposite moment, making you feel deliriously good as you find yourself shaking— your previous orgasm not helping your dwindling control.

“fuck yes! good boys..oh my god! faster, fuck me faster!”

jay whimpers, high pitched and desperate as his hips start slapping against your skin, hiking your leg farther across him as his hand takes a handful of your thigh’s squishy flesh in a bruising grip. jake is crying worshiping words of your body and beauty as he pulls away from your neck to watch how your ass bounces with every pound of his cock, one hand leaving your breast to grab your cheek and spread it open.

“my love, you look so gorgeous with two cocks stuffed in your little cunt— sound so pretty too.”

“c— can we breed your pussy, dearest?” jay pants. “want our seed to fill up your hole and fuck it out of you.”

“yes, angel— puppy, give me your cum.”

hands are squeezing and grabbing all over your body as you lose track of who’s hands are who’s anymore, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when jay and jake’s cocks pump ribbon after ribbon of white into your wanting cunt. their warm fluid fills you to the brim until you feel it gushing out as they continue to fuck you, filthy noises of their dripping wet, pulsing cocks continuing to absolutely ruin your hole.

you reach your release with a loud cry, throat cracking as your arousal drenches jay’s groin and drips down between the three of you.

your body continues to shake even after it’s over, none of you moving from the sensitivity (or perhaps it’s simply that none of you want to). jay presses comforting pecks up your sternum, even as he’s catching his own breath— and jake is sat up on his elbow, even though he’s weak from pleasure— to brush your hair out of your face and comb his fingers through your scalp.

“you look like a dream…” the brunet whispers reverently.

“i feel like i’m in one.” you whisper back with a breathless laugh.

your dark angel slowly pulls out of you, causing all of you to grimace before he’s calming you with two kisses to your cheek. “then let's pray you never wake.”

the next pass of time is spent with more kisses pressed between loving words said with tender tones and passionate eyes that are so warm— so warm with love that you find yourself sniffling as jake is buttoning the last clasp of your dress shut— all of you fully cleaned and clothed now.

“love, what’s wrong?”

“i’m— i’m perfectly fine. perfect.” you whisper, wiping your teary eyes as jay cups your face in concern, both men staring at you. “i’m just so happy. i love you both so much, you’re my everything.”

they fall quiet— which is unusual for the two who always answer your professions of love with eager promises of their own. jake gives jay a look, and the older grins with a fond sigh.

“fine. i suppose now is a perfect moment to.”

“…what?” you utter as you watch jake walk to the large wardrobe you admired earlier, opening it and pulling something out that he keeps hidden in his palms as he returns to stand before you again.

“it’s not the most traditional or legal proposal of sorts, but our whole relationship is rather unique— so i’d say it’s fitting.” jay says, his eyes utterly entranced by yours as the tears finally begin to spill as jake uncovers the crimson little box in his hands, slowly opening it to reveal a glittering ring.

words don’t grace your tongue— but it’s not necessary as jake speaks first.

“you’ve bewitched us, y/n. body and soul. a million passes of the moon couldn’t even satisfy our all consuming desire to be with you always.”

“and we wanted to ask you,” jay smiles, a twinkling of tears in his own eyes. “if you would like to spend an eternity with us. to give us a chance at making you endlessly happy, and being truly ours.”

your heart pounds, your hands tremble— these two men stand before you with centuries worth of love to give you, and your only two bites away from it.

nothing has ever felt so right before as you say yes, yes, yes!

and as jay holds your hand and jake slips the ring onto your finger, all you can think of is how your love will last even more than forever.

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED

NOTE: congrats, you made it to the end! ily for that. consensual kisses for you 😙💕

kinda upset i didn’t get to post this during october 🙄 but it’s still autumn! sooooo hopefully you don’t mind. i tried to address all of the plot that i made up but i couldn’t always find a spot to talk about it that seemed right. so if you have questions, ask away!

this fic had my google and youtube history so out of wack. like ‘what was soap like around the 1700’s’ and ‘how did peasants bathe’. 💀 (they used animal fat as soap btw. it was gelatinous & not like a bar of soap at all…i decided to leave that detail out.)

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aceyalonso · 1 day ago

Text

F1 drivers if they were on the r/AITAH subreddit

drivers : oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, max verstappen, george russell, franco colapinto

warnings/notes : jos verstappen 🤮

a/n : i know i said i was on hiatus but c'mon this was such a fun idea

main masterlist | taglist form

So this might sound weird, but here goes. My girlfriend and I (both 23) love visiting new places, and she’s a big animal lover. She found this adorable cat café nearby and has been talking about going for weeks. I wasn’t as excited but figured it’d be fun to surprise her, so I booked us a spot and thought I’d try to make it extra special.

Here’s the thing: I wanted to be "that guy" who shows up with a bag of cat treats so all the cats would flock to us. It sounds ridiculous, but my goal was to make her day. When we got there, I pulled out the treats and instantly had a few cats’ attention. My girlfriend laughed, but within a few minutes, an employee came over, looking annoyed, and told me I couldn't give the cats treats from outside.

Apparently, they have specific diets or something, and I was "interfering." I apologized, put the treats away, and thought that was the end of it. But soon after, another employee came up, saying we were being "disruptive" because all the cats were lingering around us, and they even hinted we might need to leave if it didn’t stop. I hadn’t meant to cause a scene and told them it wasn’t a big deal—we’d stop and just hang out like everyone else. But by this point, my girlfriend was pretty embarrassed, and it killed the vibe of our day.

We left a bit earlier than planned, and now my girlfriend thinks it was a bit of a jerk move, even though she appreciated the effort. I didn’t mean to upset anyone or break the rules, just thought it’d be fun to make the cats a bit more social. But now I’m wondering if I messed up by not sticking to the café’s way of doing things.

So, AITAH?

Edit: I’ve learned my lesson. I will never underestimate the dietary regulations of a cat café ever again.

So, I (24M) have this bad habit of forgetting what’s in my fridge. A while ago, I bought some chicken, but I totally forgot about it, and it just sat there for months. I was cleaning out my fridge the other day and found the chicken at the back, and it still looked fine to me—didn’t smell bad, didn’t look weird—so I thought, "Why not? It’s still good."

I cooked it up, had a nice meal, and didn’t think much of it. But then, later that night, I told my mom about it (thinking she'd just laugh), and she completely freaked out. She went on this whole rant about food safety, salmonella, and how I could’ve poisoned myself. I was just like, "It tasted fine, mom, calm down."

She kept texting me all night asking if I felt okay, if I was getting any stomach pains, and even called a few of my friends to check in on me. Honestly, I’m fine—nothing happened, and I feel perfectly normal.

But now she’s upset with me, saying I’m being careless and that I should never eat food that old, even if it seems fine. I just didn’t think it would be that big of a deal. I mean, people eat leftovers all the time, right? It wasn’t even that old.

So, AITAH for eating chicken that’s been in my fridge for 9 months and making my mom worry unnecessarily?

Edit: Just to clarify, I didn’t intentionally keep it for 9 months. I honestly just forgot about it in the back of the fridge. And no, I’m not sick. Everything’s fine. I promise I won’t be eating anything old again anytime soon!

I (27M) have a dog, Leo, who’s basically my best friend. He’s super friendly and well-behaved, and honestly, I just feel better when he’s around. I bring him everywhere I go – to cafes, parks, and friend gatherings. You name it, Leo’s there. Most people are fine with it because he’s adorable and loves everyone.

Recently, though, my friends have started making comments about it. Last weekend, we met up at this small, cozy café for brunch, and I brought Leo along. He just curled up next to my chair and didn’t bother anyone. But my friend Paul pulled me aside afterward and said it was kind of annoying that I kept bringing Leo without asking. He said not everyone wants a dog around all the time, and it’s “getting old.”

I don’t understand where this is coming from, especially since Leo’s never caused any problems. I figured since no one had said anything before, they were fine with it. Plus, I’m always careful to keep him out of people’s way, and he’s honestly better behaved than most dogs I know. I feel like they’re making a big deal out of nothing, but now I’m wondering if maybe I should have checked with everyone first.

So, AITAH for always bringing my dog? Should I have asked before assuming everyone was okay with it?

Edit: Just for context, Leo’s a small dog – not the type to jump on people or bark a lot. He just sits quietly and naps most of the time. Also, I’ve always cleaned up after him when necessary, so he hasn’t left any “souvenirs” for anyone to deal with.

So, I (39M) have this friend, Nico (also 39M), and we’ve been friends since we were kids. We’re both super competitive by nature, and we tend to push each other a lot. Whether it’s video games, sports, or even something like mini-golf, everything somehow turns into a competition between us. It’s mostly just for fun… until recently.

A few weeks ago, we were at a friend’s birthday party, and they had one of those racing setups in the living room. Of course, Nico and I immediately challenged each other, and we both got really into it. I mean, I might’ve been trash-talking a bit (okay, maybe a lot), but we were both laughing, so I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Well, I ended up beating him by a fraction of a second, and I might’ve celebrated a bit too enthusiastically—think victory lap around the living room, calling him out in front of everyone, the whole deal. After that, Nico got pretty quiet and didn’t talk to me much for the rest of the night. Later, a mutual friend told me that Nico felt like I was “rubbing it in,” and it embarrassed him.

Now I feel bad. I honestly thought we were just having fun and didn’t realize he’d take it so personally. I tried to apologize, but he just brushed it off and hasn’t really been himself around me since.

So… AITAH for taking things a bit too far with my friend, or was it all just part of the usual friendly rivalry?

Edit: We’ve always had this kind of back-and-forth, so I’m not sure why this time it got to him. Just thought I’d get some outside perspective before I bring it up with him again.

Okay, I know this sounds insane, but hear me out. I (30M) love making pancakes, and I’m pretty proud of my recipe. It’s become sort of a tradition to make them for my family when I visit my parents. They’re always really nice about it and say they love them, but... I’m starting to think they’ve just been too polite.

A few weeks ago, I was at my parents’ house and decided to whip up a big batch of pancakes for breakfast. My mom and dad both had seconds, and I thought it was a win. But later that night, my mom started having really bad stomach pains. We took her to the hospital, and she ended up needing surgery for appendicitis. It was a scary experience, but thankfully, she’s okay now.

Here’s where it gets weirder. Just a few days after my mom came home from the hospital, my dad started having the same symptoms. At first, we joked that it was sympathy pains, but he ended up in the ER too, with the exact same issue—appendicitis.

Now my whole family is convinced it was my pancakes. I know logically that my cooking can’t cause appendicitis, but I can’t help but feel responsible because they both got sick right after eating my breakfast. My parents keep joking that they’re never eating my pancakes again, and my siblings have been giving me a hard time about it, saying I’m banned from the kitchen.

So, AITAH for giving both my parents appendicitis with my cooking, or am I just an unlucky chef?

Edit: Just to clarify, I don’t actually think I gave them appendicitis, but the timing is very suspicious, and now my parents are scared of my pancakes. I might need a new family recipe...

So, I (27M) have two cats (Jimmy & Sassy), and they’re pretty much my babies. They’re super affectionate with me but can be a bit picky about who they like. My dad (52M), on the other hand, isn’t exactly a "cat person." He’s more of the “why do you have pets that don’t do anything useful?” type, but he still visits often and tolerates them because he knows they’re important to me.

The other day, my dad came over, and as usual, my cats were lounging on the couch. He decided to sit down and give them a little nudge to move over, but instead of just shuffling away, one of my cats (Jimmy) swiped at his face. It wasn’t a deep scratch, but it was enough to leave a red mark and get my dad pretty annoyed. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit because he was acting all grumpy about it, muttering something about "those spoiled cats."

He got even more annoyed when he saw me laughing and said I should discipline my cats better and not let them scratch people. I tried explaining that cats are territorial and react like that when they’re suddenly pushed, especially by someone they’re not used to. I offered him a band-aid, but he refused and ended up leaving earlier than planned.

Now my mom is telling me I should’ve been more sympathetic and that I should’ve scolded my cat instead of laughing. But honestly, I feel like it was just a normal cat reaction, and my dad knows how they can be. So now I’m wondering, AITAH for laughing when my cat scratched my dad’s face instead of taking it more seriously?

Edit: Just to clarify, my cats don’t usually attack people. They’re very cuddly with me and my friends, but my dad’s not around them enough for them to be comfortable. I’ll definitely make sure he approaches them differently next time... if he ever wants to come back!

So, this might sound a bit weird, but hear me out. I (26M) work at this company, and my boss, "Toto" (52M), and I have a really good relationship. We get along great, share a lot of common interests, and he’s been a bit of a mentor to me. We hang out outside of work sometimes, and every now and then, I’ll stay over at his place after we have dinner or watch a game, just because it’s more convenient.

Recently, my friends found out about this and started making fun of me, calling it “sleepovers” with my boss. I laughed it off at first, but they’ve started saying it’s kind of weird and unprofessional to be that close with your boss. They’re acting like I’m trying to suck up or get some kind of special treatment, but that’s honestly not the case. I just enjoy his company, and we have a good time hanging out.

The thing is, I never really mentioned it to my friends before because it just didn’t seem like a big deal. I figured if I told them, they’d blow it out of proportion (which is exactly what’s happening now). But now they’re saying it’s odd that I didn’t bring it up sooner and that it’s kind of strange to be having “sleepovers” with someone who’s technically in charge of me at work.

So, AITAH for not telling my friends that I sometimes crash at my boss’s place, or are they just overreacting?

Edit: For context, it’s not like I’m staying there every weekend or anything. It’s maybe once a month if we’re having a late night and it’s easier than going all the way back to my place. Plus, he’s got a massive guest room, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the couch or something. It’s just a practical arrangement

Okay, so I (21M) have a bit of a problem, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even a problem or just something I can’t control. I’ve noticed lately that whenever I’m doing interviews or talking to reporters, I end up coming off as flirting with them, even though I’m not trying to at all.

I’m naturally a friendly person, and I like to joke around and be engaging. But I’ve had a few reporters (and even some photographers) tell me after interviews that I’ve been “charming” or “too smooth” with them. Some of them even hinted that I was “leading them on.” The thing is, I don’t even notice it happening. I just talk to them like I would anyone else, but apparently, I’m making it seem like I’m flirting—without even trying!

One reporter even gave me her number after an interview, and when I asked if she was just being friendly, she said, “You were a little more than friendly.” I was totally confused because I thought we were just having a good conversation about racing. Now I’m worried that I’m giving the wrong impression to people without meaning to, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make things uncomfortable.

So, AITAH for accidentally flirting with reporters and leading them on when I really don’t mean to? Should I tone down my "natural charm"?

Edit: Just to clarify, I’m not trying to flirt with anyone, reporter or not. I’m just being myself, but it seems like it’s coming off differently than I intended. It’s a bit awkward now, and I’m wondering if I should change how I interact in interviews.

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venusbyline · 3 days ago

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Birthday ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 19, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Spencer Reid x sex worker!reader x Derek Morgan x Aaron Hotchner

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: foursome FMMM

— summary: Morgan hires a prostitute to her finally take his best friend's virginity.

— word count: 1.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 19th day, female!reader, virgin!Reid, shy!Reid, foursome (female/male/male/male), oral (male receiving), loss of virginity, praise kink, cowgirl position, handjob (male giving), Moreid, age gap (older men/older woman/younger man), birthday present, prostitution, drunk sex, rough kissing, orgy, corruption kink, implied/referenced cheating, infidelity, light overstimulation, breast worship, butt worship, nipple play, minor Aaron Hotchner x Haley Hotchner, bisexual(?)!Reid, bisexual!Morgan, married!Hotch, Lila Archer Mentioned, minor Spencer Reid x Lila Archer, ambiguous/open ending, curse words, sub!Reid, dom!Morgan, dom!Hotch, switch!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"You're gonna love your birthday present, Pretty Boy."

That's what Morgan said to Spencer after his birthday party. He was finally becoming more of an adult, gaining more respect from the team. Everything was going perfectly. Now, Spencer Reid was no longer just a shy and genius little boy, he was also proving to be a man worthy of working in the BAU, not just because of his extremely intelligent brain.

Reid was not as shy as before, he was slowly loosening up. His germophobia was also getting better and better. Everything was going well. He was maturing.

However, he still had his virginity intact.

The entire BAU was surprised when Spencer accidentally confessed about his lack of sexual experience during his birthday party. It was a shock to everyone, even though it was so obvious. The team thought he would have at least one experience or another for the roster, but the fact that he entered college as a teenager had ruined everything. Even though he was handsome as hell now, Spencer was a complex person whose brain worked too fast for anyone to even try to fully understand, no girl never had much patience to flirt with him for more than a few days, and his excessive shyness did not do much for his situation. The few kisses he had already exchanged with some girls had never gone further. The only time he felt tempted to continue had been with Lila Archer, which did not happen.

Spencer did not plan on telling anyone about his virginity. It was a shameful matter that he would rather keep secret forever. If it were not for the alcohol consumed during the night, he might never have confessed. None of his friends would know about this part of his life. If it were not for the whiskey, he would probably remain a virgin forever.

"F-Fuck. I can't..." Reid whimpered like a pathetic little boy as he squirmed in his seat, clenching his hands into fists and arching his head back, eyes closed and lips pink and already swollen from biting them. "Her mouth is so good..."

Morgan laughed at the sight of his best friend becoming a noisy mess every time you on your knees in front of him masterfully sucked on the tip of his cock. The boy's moans echoed in the room and went straight to Morgan's cock.

"How do you feel?" Morgan asked Reid, stroking his friend's brown hair as he finally opened his eyes, biting his lip again and trying to give a concentrated answer, but it went from tearful moans, which caused a chuckle from both Morgan and Hotch, who was just watching the scene. "You should try to have fun with us."

"Men aren't my thing, much less the kid one there." Hotch grumbled and Spencer pouted his lips sadly, giving his boss his puppy eyes.

It was Morgan's turn to roll his eyes, pulling Spencer's hair back a little to lick his neck, his teeth nibbling on the soft, vulnerable skin, causing Spencer to start to lift his hips desperately with his cock inside your mouth, in a desperate attempt to reach orgasm faster. "See, sweetheart? You're doing amazing."

Morgan used his free hand to stroke your hair, your eyes shining at him in confirmation, before you turned to Spencer, letting go of his cock when you noticed he was going to cum any moment ago. The big sad eyes on Reid's face caused laughter between you and the other two agents.

"Relax, kid. If you cum inside her mouth now, you won't be able to fuck her tight pussy anytime soon." It was Hotch who muttered a little grumpily, trying to hide the slightly sadistic smirk when he saw the tears of despair running down the genius' face.

Morgan gestured for you to stand up, your body covered by only a white lace panties that seemed to be tucked into your ass, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Hotch and Morgan bit their lips, while Spencer whimpered, trying to squirm in the seat so he could touch you. He had never touched a woman's breasts or ass before.

Hotch scoffed when he saw the pleading in Spencer's face. "Looks like someone is very eager."

Morgan followed Hotch's gaze, diverting his attention from your ass for a while so he could watch the younger boy's despair, enjoying it. "I guess you should stop his suffering for a bit. His brain is gonna break if you don't let him fuck you soon."

Morgan's suggestion made you laugh. "Virgins..." You rolled your eyes playfully, but it caused a sad pout from Reid, too confused and desperate to understand that it was nothing more than a teasing. As soon as you took off the lace fabric and threw it to Hotch, you heard him growl. He did not like prostitutes and had been completely against hiring one for Spencer to lose his virginity. But Morgan had convinced him. At first, he had said he would just watch, but the moment you wrapped the condom around Spencer's cock and gently fitted it in, his mind went into a frenzy.

That was one of the hottest scenes Hotch had ever seen. The youngest of the team crying with so much pleasure after having his cock stuck in a wet pussy for the first time. Your ass shaking every time you bounced on him, your own hands cupping your breasts and staring into Spencer's submissive gaze, those beautiful eyes filled with tears. The way Morgan grabbed Spencer by the neck, distracting him from watching your pretty breasts for a while, while now he felt his thin lips being crushed by Morgan's mouth with an aggressive kiss, his hand going down the older agent's pants by instinct.

Hotch had not liked that plan at all. He thought it was absurd. He did not like prostitutes. He did not like it when two BAU members got involved, even casually. This should all be disgusting and repulsive.

However, when Morgan and Spencer were still kissing, Morgan's bit heavy hand crushing your breast while Spencer's slender fingers played with your other nipple, it all became too much. Every moan that left your lips with the overstimulation caused by your breasts being used or by your wet pussy riding non-stop on Spencer's virgin cock. The whimpers that came out of Spencer at the new and incredible sensation, in addition to Morgan's intense kisses. The growls that Morgan let out while Spencer hangjob him with an inexperienced and almost stupid way, which made everything even more perfect.

Hotch should hate this and go away, go back to his wife and pretend he did not see any of it. The problem was, he knew that would be impossible. He wanted to continue, he wanted to feel everything too. Feeling his sex life a little more interesting in all the chaos that was his career and his marriage.

"I'm serious. I really don't like guys." Hotch warned again with an uncomfortable face, almost as uncomfortable as the tightness in his pants. You, Morgan, and even Spencer shared a few soft chuckles when Hotch snorted and took off his tie, unbuttoning his white dress shirt and throwing it to the floor before grabbing you by the neck, kissing your skin while you continued to ride Spencer.

"So that won't be a problem, Sir. I'm not a guy, I'm just a whore. All of you three can use me however you want." You scoffed and Hotch huffed, nodding then and licking your earlobe, his hands moving your hips to encourage you to go faster on top of Reid.

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luvismenu · 1 day ago

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Only When It's Us — JJK ,, index ,, about taglist

Chapter 02 — distraction ✎

fic summary: you both say it’s nothing serious, but with every touch and argument, it gets harder to stay away.

nsfw warnings: smut; lots of kissing, lots of touching lol, oral (male recieving, fem too? kinda), sucking fingers, doggy style, unprotected sex (shes using birth control so yep, be safe!) use of ‘good girl’

wc: 6k

📜 permanent taglist: @lovieku @kyuupii @fluttershypoo @deluluisdasolulu @ddanasjk @mar-lo-pap @jungkooks-wife @diamondjeon @nnybtitts08 @lil0u0 @butnotmontana @fr0ggieth1nk @minimoninini @whoa-jo @lola75111 @iswearimover5feetall @rispwr @leemonis-blog

📜 series taglist: @deepikhaprakash @rjooniesdimples @sweetmimosa28

abt series taglist: send me an ask w the series title !!

“i have to go.”

“why don’t you just come back home? you can start over, and this time, maybe you’ll be more like your brother.”

you sigh.

“mom, i don’t want to be him,” you say quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. on the other end, you hear her let out a soft, disapproving tsk, a sound that always manages to make you feel a little smaller.

“aren’t you clearly struggling with school? if you were here with us, with your brother, we’d help you. you’d be fine,” she insists, as if coming home would magically fix everything.

you roll your eyes.

“i really have to go.”

“___, just listen to—”

but before she can finish, you end the call, staring at the blank screen for a moment.

there’s an unsettling feeling in your chest, one that refuses to fade, no matter how much you try to brush it off. its like a quiet reminder of all the things you’re trying to avoid.

go back home?

after everything you’ve been through to study what you want, to finally live on your own terms. every argument, every latenight fight with your parents, all just to claim a bit of freedom.

you worked so hard to break free from their expectations, to stand on your own.

you even transferred universities just to escape the constant pressure back in your hometown. no matter what you did, it was never enough. every choice was somehow wrong, not ‘their way.’

you can’t go back now.

not until you’ve made it, not until you have something real to prove them wrong. you have to be successful, if only to show them that your way was the right way all along.

“hey, are you done thinking? never seen anyone contemplate cheerios this hard.”

min yoongi’s low voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you look up, finding him behind the cash register, his lips curving into a small smile.

“just wondering if i can actually trust your store’s products. what if you are some sort of cheerio secret agent and you're trying to poison me?” you joke, handing him the money.

“oh no, you figured it out. we’ve been poisoning the cheerios. now how am i gonna explain to my boss that our mission failed?” he dramatically placesb a hand on his forehead as if you revealed his deepest darkest secret. you can’t help but chuckle, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit.

“bad day?” he asks, his gaze softening a bit as he opens the cash register.

min yoongi; your friend.

well, he's more like your senior. he graduated last year and he is working parttime at this convenience store cuz he thinks in this way he could spend some time outside.

you didn't question him about it any further.

you don’t usually come here unless it’s an emergency, and breakfast for tomorrow qualifies as pretty urgent, or so you tell yourself.

“something like that,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he nods slightly. “well,” he begins, “i’m sorry i can’t give you a discount,” he adds, trying to lighten the mood.

you chuckle, the corners of your mouth lifting. “aw, that’s too bad. i thought i might get these cheerios for free.”

he smiles softly, “maybe some other time,"

you smile back at yoongi and turn to leave. but then you almost bump your head against a man’s chest, stumbling back in surprise.

that was close.

you look up to apologize, but your words get caught in your throat as you take in his appearance.

he’s handsome.

no, that doesn’t even begin to cover it. his face is sculpted to perfection, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. his dark eyes seem to pierce right through you, and his long, dark hair falls effortlessly over his forehead.

but there’s something else,

he looks... mad?

you quickly gather yourself, your cheeks warming slightly. “sorry,” you blurt out, stepping aside to let him pass.

as you walk out of the store, you catch a snippet of conversation behind you.

“are you still upset about her, jungkook?” yoongi’s voice carries just enough for you to hear.

you try to shake it off, not wanting to dwell on whatever is unfolding behind you. it’s not your business, after all.

you step outside, the cool air hitting your face as you leave the store, and try to focus on the tasks ahead of you.

“it doesn’t make any sense, hyung,” jungkook scoffs, the frustration bubbling up inside him.

“when did she ever make sense?” yoongi replies dryly, not backing down as he meets jungkook’s glare. the tension in the air feels thick, but yoongi isn’t afraid to speak his mind.

“from my point of view, you’re now a free man. free from all the bullshit you’ve been through,” yoongi explains, hoping to lift jungkook’s spirits.

“what bullshit? i was happy. we were happy,” jungkook frowns, his confusion evident. he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, struggling to comprehend yoongi’s words.

“that’s what she wanted you to think,” yoongi replies, his tone serious. “and to be honest, that’s what you always did. you did whatever she wanted. you changed for her.”

“i loved her,” jungkook insists, his voice a bit softer but still filled with conviction, as if saying it out loud would make it true.

“did you? really?” yoongi presses, searching jungkook’s eyes for any hint of doubt. he knows this is a tough conversation, but it needs to be talked out.

jungkook looks away and mutters. “you don’t get it,”

yoongi’s expression softens. he presses his lips together as he looks at jungkook, feeling bad for him. “i’m sorry, jungkook. but you really have to let it go now. it’s been two weeks. it’s time to start moving on.”

jungkook stays silent.

instead of responding, he reaches for a lollipop displayed near the cash register, the bright colors contrasting sharply with his gloomy mood. he hands yoongi some money, more than what the lollipop costs, as if he’s paying for more than just candy.

“do you want the change, or can i keep it as a tip for my great service slash friendship?” yoongi tries to lighten the mood, hoping to bring a smile to jungkook’s face.

and it does.

jungkook’s lips curl into a faint smile, a small but genuine response. “keep it,” he says softly.

as jungkook turns to leave, yoongi watches him go, feeling sad for his friend.

“bad day indeed.”

you're sat on a bench in the park near the convenience store, lost in your own thoughts. the quiet sounds of the evening settle around you, the faint rustle of leaves, the distant hum of traffic, and your own sighs mingling with the cool air.

you’re not really thinking about anything in particular, just letting your mind wander in that aimless way it does when everything feels overwhelming.

then, a loud voice cuts through your thoughts.

“no, i know you're hiding something from me!” someone snaps, his voice taut with irritation. “fine! have it your way then.”

curious, you glance over and recognize him immediately; the same man from earlier at the store, the one you’d nearly bumped into.

he’s pacing as he talks on his phone, one hand running through his dark hair in exasperation. his jaw is clenched, his brows furrowed, and you can practically feel the tension radiating off him even from a distance.

after a moment, he ends the call with an aggravated sigh, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he makes his way into the park, still visibly upset. he barely notices his surroundings as he walks closer to where you’re sitting.

he sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, muttering something under his breath as if willing the frustration to melt away. you can’t help but stare a little, like an idiot.

then his eyes snap open and land directly on you.

“got a problem with me?” his voice is sharp, cutting through the silence between you.

you blink, startled, and stand up instinctively. “excuse me?”

he turns fully to face you, his eyes never leaving yours. “i asked, you got a problem with me?”

“no.” you shake your head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“good.”

wow. nice attitude.

just as you’re about to walk away, he calls out again.

“never seen you around here before.”

“pardon?” you turn back, surprised.

“you’re yoongi's friend, right?” he asks,

you cross your arms, giving him a wary look. “why do you care?”

he shrugs, almost nonchalant. “my bad, just curious. never seen yoongi smile at a normal customer before, so i assumed.”

“oh,” you reply, softening just a bit. “well, i guess you could say we're friends.”

he raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “you guess?”

you offer a small shrug of your own. “he used to help me when i was still a freshman, and he still tries to whenever he can. i'd say he's like my teacher, in a way. it’s not like we hang out or anything, though.”

he tilts his head, considering your words. “well, consider yourselves friends. trust me, he doesn’t just help anyone.”

you narrow your eyes slightly, still wary. “and who are you, exactly?”

“jeon jungkook,” he says, extending a hand with a surprisingly polite nod. instinctively, you reach out and shake it, his grip firm. “since you're yoongi's friend, i think we go to the same university. though this is the first time i’m seeing you.”

“same, i am ___,” you pull your hand back.

“what are you doing here, in the middle of the night? didn’t your parents ever tell you not to go out alone?” he asks, the way he talks is somewhere between teasing and serious. you can't quiet get what it is but something about it grates on your nerves, like he's playing at being concerned but in a way that feels almost mocking.

“i could ask you the same thing,” you shoot back, meeting his gaze head on.

he doesn’t flinch, only tilts his head slightly. “i always come here,” he says, his voice calm, almost like a matterof fact.

“same,” you respond. “during the day.”

he quirks a brow, “so why are you in my night shift?”

you scoff, a laugh slipping out before you can stop it. “this isn’t your place or ‘shift,’ you know."

“well, you come here during the day; i come here at night. sounds like shifts to me,” he says with a shrug, and you catch the playfulness on his face.

“guess i’m overtiming, then,” you say, glancing away to hide your own smirk. “don’t mind me.”

he stays silent.

“you’ve got your own shit to deal with, huh?” he says, his voice breaking the quiet.

“why are you talking to me?” you blurt out, catching him a little off guard. “i mean, you don’t even know me.”

he raises an eyebrow, unphased. “i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, mimicking your answer from before.

you narrow your eyes, folding your arms. “i don’t think i want to talk about my problems with a random stranger.”

“problems…” he echoes, looking you up and down like he’s trying to figure you out. “let me guess. got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

“no,” you say quickly, rolling your eyes. “i don’t have one.” for a second, you think you catch a flicker of surprise on his face. “what about you? girlfriend mad at you?”

his face shifts, something almost vulnerable passing over his features before he looks away. “guess you could say that,” he mutters. “since she broke things off with me.”

a silence stretches between you two.

“i’m… sorry to hear that,” you finally say, feeling the awkwardness settle around you.

you didn't expect that.

honestly, the idea of someone like him getting dumped hadn’t even crossed your mind. a guy who looks like that—that intense aura—doesn’t exactly seem like the type to get left behind.

you assumed he’d be the one calling the shots, the one walking away. but here he is, single and clearly dealing with the aftermath of something that’s weighing on him. its surprising.

a thought crosses yourmind.

if someone could leave him, someone who had a place in his life and a claim to his heart, maybe he’s not as perfect as he seems on the outside. maybe there’s something beneath the surface, something that’s harder to deal with than his looks would suggest.

it’s like a puzzle you didn’t even mean to start solving, yet here you are, wondering if there’s more to him than just that handsome face.

but then you shake the thought away. he’s a stranger. a random guy you happened to bump into, quite literally, at a park in the middle of the night. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. or, at least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

because, really, why should you care?

whatever his story is, it’s none of your business.

“anyway, hope you figure your problems out.” he says, his gaze flickering away as if he’s eager to dodge any deeper conversation.

“likewise,” you reply.

without warning, he pulls a lollipop from his pocket, holding it out to you. “here,” he says, waiting for you to take it.

you reach out slowly, raising an eyebrow. “thanks?”

he smirks, “again, did your parents never tell you not to take candy from strangers?”

“maybe i like to be a little rebellious,” you say, smirking back at him and he shakes his head smiling.

“well, go ahead, eat it. i don’t want you tossing it away. i spent a lot on that sucker,” he says, a playful grin spreading across his face. despite the oddness of the moment, a corner of your mouth quirks up.

you unwrap the lollipop, examining it with a critical eye before giving him a look that says it all.

he catches it, tilting his head in curiosity. “what?”

“i don’t think i like raspberry flavor,” you admit, holding the lollipop up like a trophy of sorts.

he squints at you, “you’ve never tasted one before?”

you shrug, trying to sound nonchalant. “i don’t like raspberries, so i’m guessing this is more of the same.”

he shakes his head, lips twitching into a smirk. “that’s pretty bold, making assumptions without even trying it.”

“just give it a taste; maybe you'll like it,” he suggests, a teasing smile forming on his lips, clearly wanting you to try it. deep down, he doesn't even like raspberry flavor; he just picked it out randomly at the store.

“uh, no thanks. i don’t want that nasty taste on my tongue,” you reply, scrunching your nose a little . “but thanks, you could have—”

your words are abruptly cut off as he grabs your hand, the lollipop still held tightly between your fingers. in one swift motion, he leans in, wrapping his mouth around it. his tongue swirls around the candy, and then he pulls it out, his lips glistening with a reddish-pink hue that matches the flavor.

you're completely taken aback, eyes widening in shock.

oh what the fuck.

“yeah, you’re right. it does taste nasty,” he says, licking his lips as he releases your hand. “give it to me, i'll just throw it away or something”

suddenly, the lollipop feels trivial compared to what he just did. you stand there, completely speechless, your mind and heart racing as you try to process what jus happened.

“what?” he stares at you.

“you’re good with your tongue,” you say, the words slipping out before you can really think them through.

he pauses, his eyes widening for a second, and he chokes on nothing, almost like he’s been caught off guard mid-breath. “uh, what?” he finally manages, blinking rapidly.

realizing how that might’ve sounded, “i just meant... the lollipop. you seemed pretty skilled with it,” you clarify, though you’re aware it’s not really helping.

what are you even trying to say?

he looks at you, a smirk playing on his lips now. “uh-huh, sure,” he says, teasing you. “that’s what you meant.”

you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. “don’t flatter yourself, i was just making an observation.”

but the way he’s looking at you now, dark eyes glittering with amusement and something else you can’t quite place, makes it hard to pretend that slip of the tongue didn’t mean more than you intended.

“so, do you want to suck on it?”

“huh?” you blink.

suck on what now?

“the lollipop” he clarifies, a small smile playing on his lips.

oh.

you clear your throat, fighting to keep a neutral expression. “no, definitely not, especially now that you had your tongue all over it.” you try to scrunch your nose, but any attempt at showing disgust falls flat with the heat rising in your cheeks.

“alright then, just asking if you changed your mind,” he shrugs, still holding your gaze.

“i still don’t want it,” you say quickly, trying to sound convincing.

“okay.” he blinks, unfazed.

“okay,” you repeat, awkwardly.

he gestures to the lollipop still in your hand. “uh, so… are you gonna keep holding it?”

you glance down, pulling your hand back. “i’m gonna throw it away,” you declare, though it feels a bit ridiculous now, given everything that just happened.

“i hope so,” he says, one side of his lips quirking up.

why do you kind of like his smile?

you try to shake your thought off, tossing the lollipop into a nearby trash can, trying to act as casual as possible.

“well, guess that's the end of that,” you say, hoping to sound nonchalant. he nods as he crosses his arms.

you raise an eyebrow, mimicking his stance. “do you usually hand out half-eaten lollipops to strangers?”

he laughs, low and soft, the sound surprisingly warm in the quiet night. “only when they look like they need a little distraction.”

you tilt your head. “oh? and what made you think i needed one?”

his eyes meet yours, his expression softening. “just a hunch,” he says, his voice dropping to a murmur. “we all got stuff we’d rather not think about, right?”

a pause.

there’s something unspoken between you two, a quiet understanding in the way you hold each other’s gaze.

he's right.

you are stressing about things you'd rather not think about, things that seem to cling to your mind no matter how hard you try to push them away.

and then there's him, a stranger but somehow not, going through his own mess. you can see it in his tired eyes, the way he keeps looking off into the distance as if trying to shake off whatever weight he's carrying.

you realize you don’t mind it; you don’t mind his company, or even the strange comfort of this shared silence.

both of you are here, each trying to forget whatever it is that’s eating at you. maybe that’s why this moment feels so easy.

”yeah,” you finally say, “guess we do.”

“i gotta go now,” you announce, hoping to put an end to whatever weird tension is building between the two of you.

he doesn't say anything. no goodbyes, no attempts to stop you. so you turn and start walking away, trying to shake off whatever just happened.

but before you can take more than a few steps, his hand shoots out, wrapping around your wrist. you stop, surprised, and turn back to face him. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to make you pause.

you meet his gaze, and there's something in his eyes—something intense, something that makes your stomach flip.

“would you like a distraction?” he asks, voice low, almost like a whisper meant just for you.

you blink, not sure if you heard him right. “what?” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

instead of answering, he tugs you gently closer. your body stumbles forward, and your hands land on his chest to steady yourself. his heartbeat is strong under your palm, and suddenly, everything feels too close, too intense.

he looks down at you, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s searching for something. “i think i do,” he mutters. “don’t you?”

your mind is racing, trying to make sense of this.

is he asking what you think he’s asking?

he’s a stranger. someone you barely know beyond a couple of conversations and an awkward encounter in a convenience store.

yet there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something that makes it hard to think straight.

“yes,” you hear yourself say before you can even process it.

his lips curve into a satisfied smile, and without another word, he leans in and kisses you.

the world seems to stop as his mouth meets yours. it’s not hesitant or soft; it’s urgent, as if he’s been wanting this for longer than the short time you’ve known him. his hands slide up to your face, cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

your fingers clutch his shirt, feeling the heat of his body against yours. it’s messy and impulsive, and he doesn't even care that you’re both in the middle of a park, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

right now, all you can think about is him. the way he tastes, the way he kisses you desperately.

maybe you do need this distraction.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, letting the kiss deepen. his lips are soft, and you moan as if you're melting into the kiss. there's something about the way his mouth moves against yours; like he's been waiting to do this.

“wait—” you pant as pull back, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to gather your thoughts. he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowing slightly as he asks in a low voice, “what happened?”

“we're... we're outside,” you point out, glancing around.

he tilts his head, his brows raising slightly as if that’s the least of his concerns. “so?” his voice is low and almost teasing, like he finds your hesitation cute.

you let out a scoffing laugh, “what do you mean so?wee’re literally in a children’s park.” you gesture to the swings and slides nearby, deserted at this hour but still... it’s a public space.

he pauses for a second, “my car’s parked just over there,” he nods towards a sleek vehicle at the edge of the park, his lips curling into a smile. “we could, uh... relocate or—”

before you can even process that, your curiosity gets the better of you. “wait— you have a car?” you cut in, a little surprised.

he chuckles. “yeah, and it’s a pretty one at that.” there’s a glint in his eyes that says he’s enjoying this back-and-forth with you, like it’s some sort of game.

you sigh, still trying to wrap your head around the craziness of this entire situation. “okay,” you murmur, almost to yourself, deciding to just go with it. what’s the worst that could happen?

he releases his grip on you, but only so he can grab your hand and guide you towards the car. the walk feels a little awkward now, a heavy tension hanging in the air. you're not sure what to say.

what’s the protocol for walking towards a car with a guy you’re about to hook up with?

as if sensing your nerves, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “come on, my car’s comfy. don’t worry,” he says with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. the way he’s holding your hand... it’s surprisingly tender, making it feel just a little less awkward.

when you reach the car, he opens the back seat door for you. you hesitate for a second, “you won’t, like, kidnap me or something, right?” you half-joke.

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “for someone who’s so aware of the things you shouldn’t be doing, you sure do them anyway,” he teases. his words send a shiver down your spine, both a warning and an invitation.

but you ignore that nagging voice in the back of your mind. instead, you climb into the seat and he follows you right away.

“why are you—” your words are cut off as he crashes his lips against yours, the urgency in his kiss making you lose your breath. one of his hands grips your waist, pulling you against him, while the other tangles in your hair, tugging gently to tilt your head for better access.

the way his lips move against yours, hot and hungry, sends sparks shooting down your spine, and before you know it, you're moaning into his mouth, matching his intensity. your hands scramble to find something to hold onto, eventually locking behind his neck as if he's your lifeline.

“are we seriously gonna fuck in your car?” you gasp, your words shaky when he pulls away just enough to start trailing hot kisses down the side of your neck. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, drawing him closer.

“no,” he breathes and sucks on a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing the skin before he soothes it with a slow lick. “just couldn’t stop myself,” he admits, voice low and breathy, and then his mouth is back on yours, devouring you with a hunger that makes your head spin.

your hands move restlessly over his broad shoulders, wanting to feel more, wishing his clothes were gone so you could touch him everywhere.

his hands roam your body like he's memorizing it, fingers pressing into the curves of your waist, teasingly brushing against your chest. each touch has you arching into him, wishing he'd just tear your clothes apart already.

it's all too good.

too overwhelming, and before you know it, five minutes have passed with the two of you tangled in each other. when he finally pulls back, panting, his lips are swollen and glistening. your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath, both of you staring at each other in the dim light of the car.

he’s leaning back slightly, his hard on pressing against your thigh. it’s impossible not to notice how turned on he is, and it only makes your own arousal spike.

you're so fucking wet right now.

you’re laid back on the seat, eyes locked on him, watching the way he runs a hand through his disheveled hair, pushing it back revealing his forehead.

“hotel? or my place?” he asks, trying to catch his breath “hotel’s just a minute away, but my place… well, it’s a bit further.”

you can practically see the options laid out in your mind like a checklist.

a) go to the hotel, have your fun, and slip away without looking back. no strings, no regrets. just a quick fuck and disappear like it never happened.

b) go to his place, let him fuck the shit out of you, see if he’s worth all this heat between your thighs. maybe wake up in his bed with his arms still wrapped around you... and if he's good enough, maybe get his number so it doesn’t have to be a one time thing.

you bite your lip, your decision already made before you even realize it.

“yours.”

the drive to his apartment is quick, the tension between you both barely held back. you're glad it’s late at night, because the two of you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other and you don't want anyone witnessing it.

the second you step into his apartment, the door slams shut behind you, and it's a scramble to rid each other of clothing. shirts are yanked off, belts undone, pants shoved down until you're both stumbling towards his bedroom in a mess of heated kisses and needy touches.

“o-oh fuck—yes baby, suck it just like that,” jungkook throws his head back, moaning, his breath ragged. he’s sprawled on the bed, legs spread wide, hands gripping the sheets. you're on your knees between his thighs, sucking him hard, your lips stretching around his thick length.

you glance up at him, eyes half lidded, watching the way his abs flex as he tries to keep himself steady. “shit... you look so fucking hot,” he rasps out, voice rough. his gaze darkens, and he pushes himself up, one hand threading through your hair.

“can you take it, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

you know exactly what he’s asking. you nod, barely managing it with your mouth full, and he smiles, almost wickedly, his eyes gleaming.

“good,” he murmurs, his grip tightening just enough on your hair. “tap me if it’s too much.” and with that, he starts moving his hips, fucking into your mouth with slow, deep thrusts.

you gag slightly as he pushes deeper, but you relax your throat, trying to take him in. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of him moving in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

“fuck—you’re taking me so well, baby,” he praises, his voice thick and raspy, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. each time his cock hits the back of your throat, it forces a choked gasp from him, his hands instinctively tightening in your hair.

your eyes water, tears pooling at your lashes, but you don’t stop, even as your throat aches. your nails dig into his firm thighs, using them for balance as he fucks your throat. you want to show him just how much you can handle.

“i’m gonna—” he grunts, voice rough and strained. a hot burst of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow it all, not breaking eye contact with him for a second. his chest heaves as he watches you, mesmerized, as your tongue slides slowly along his length, cleaning up every drop. his jaw clenches, the sight clearly driving him wild.

“get up,” he orders, voice still a little breathless, and you obey instantly, letting him pull you to your feet. “on the bed, all fours.”

you get onto the mattress, positioning yourself as he asked. there's a moment of stillness as you feel his gaze roam over your exposed body. your heart races, anticipation building as you wait for his next move.

“you’re dripping,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his breath is hot against your soaked core. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, and your eyes flutter shut, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips. his mouth envelops your pussy, sucking and licking with an rhythm that makes your thighs tremble.

he pulls back just enough to catch his breath before moving up, positioning himself between your legs. his right hand trails upward, skimming over your skin until his fingers brush against your lips.

instinctively, you part them, taking his fingers into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around them. the low chuckle that escapes him tells you just how much he enjoys it.

“you like that, hm?” he asks. you moan softly around his fingers, your response muffled but desperate.

he withdraws his fingers, his lips curving into a satisfied smirk. leaning down, he wraps an arm around your waist, lifting you slightly until your back is against his chest. you can feel his length pressing against your ass, you move your hips a little causing a little friction.

his hands slide over your breasts, kneading them with just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

you melt into his touch, your head lolling back against his shoulder as his fingers pinch and roll your hardened nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“want me to fuck you, baby?” his voice is soft against your shoulder as he places feather light kisses along your skin. he nips gently, his hands never stopping their teasing, and you can’t help the whimper that escapes when his fingers pinch just a bit harder.

“y-yes,” you mewl, voice shaky with need, “fuck me, jungkook.”

he squeezes your breasts harder, a groan rumbling from his chest as he sinks his teeth lightly into the curve of your shoulder.

“yeah? can i fuck you raw?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a whimper. “p-please.”

his grip on you loosens slightly, and he leans back to look at you, his eyes dark, like he's stopping himself. “you sure?” he asks, one last time, his tone gentle but urgent.

you nod quickly, breathless. “i’m on the pill,” you assure him, and the tension in his shoulders eases.

“fuck. okay, bend over.”

without hesitation, you resume your previous position, arching your back and presenting yourself to him. he groans softly at the sight, his hand sliding down to rub slow circles over your entrance.

he teases you, slipping a finger inside, making you moan softly as your walls flutter around him. he withdraws his finger, watching the way you clench around nothing, desperate for more.

grabbing his cock, he taps the swollen tip against your slick hole. you whine, impatience leaking into your voice, “just fuck me already.”

a smirk curves his lips, and without another word, he pushes into you.

you grip the sheets tightly as you take him in fully, your walls stretching to accommodate his thick length. a choked gasp escapes your lips, eyes squeezing shut at the delicious burn that quickly morphs into pleasure.

each inch fills you so completely, leaving you breathless, your body trembling at the feeling.

“fuck,” he groans behind you, his voice low and rough, a sound that makes your toes curl. “you’re so tight, baby... taking me so fucking good.” the words are almost a growl, filled with barely restrained control as he fights the urge to pound into you.

his hands move to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave marks, steadying himself as he sinks even deeper.

your moans spill freely now, raw and needy, muffled slightly by the pillow you bury your face into. he starts to move, slowly at first, pulling out just enough before thrusting back in, his cock brushing against that sweet spot inside you.

the rhythm is torturously slow, each stroke making you whimper, your back arching even further in a silent plea for more.

“please... more,” you manage to gasp out, your voice shaky. “jungkook, i need it.. need you.”

“yeah?” he rasps, picking up the pace, thrusts becoming sharper, each one driving you into the mattress. “want it harder, baby? want me to ruin you?”

“yes.. yes mmph- more!” you cry, your voice breaking as he slams into you harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your nails claw at the sheets, the friction of his hips against your ass making stars dance behind your eyelids.

his fingers snake around to your front, finding your swollen clit, and he rubs it in tight, quick circles. your entire body jolts, your hips bucking back against him as you let out a loud, broken moan.

“oh, fuck, that’s it, that's a good fucking girl,” he hisses, feeling you clench around him, your walls fluttering as you near the edge.

“you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he growls against your ear, bending over you now, his hot breath fanning against your neck. he bites down on your shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to drive you wild.

“you're gonna cum like the good girl you are?”

“yes n-ngh.. i’m close.. s-so close,” you whimper, your thighs trembling uncontrollably. his fingers press harder against your clit, his thrusts turning frantic.

“cum with me, baby” he demands, his voice thick and commanding. that’s all it takes. your body shatters. your vision going white as you scream his name. your walls squeeze him so tightly, milking his cock, and with a deep, guttural groan, he loses himself too, spilling inside you as his thrusts grow sloppy.

he stays buried inside you, his chest heaving against your back, both of you panting heavily. he leans down to press soft, lazy kisses along your shoulder.

after everything that just happened. you've made up your mind.

you're definitely going to ask for his number.

a/n: erm.. don't get into random strangers cars !! haha

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jjk x y/n #jungkook x y/n #fanfiction

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spxdyr · 3 days ago

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im going to try to be nice because bucktommy's are going to inevitably see this and im not trying to start shit.

i'm seeing a lot of confused bucktommy's about the breakup. claiming it was a last minute decision, it was because lou didn't want to keep dealing with it (wtv that means), that it makes no since because of 8x05, and a lot of other spiraling bs.

i even saw someone say that buddie is never going to happen because oliver said eddie is straight...

i'm going to break this down as clearly as i can, because i've historically had issues with bt's and comprehension skills.

1. the bucktommy breakup was inevitable from the moment they got together. if for no other reason than tommy himself. from the beginning of their relationship, tommy has decided if buck was ready. not buck. tommy left buck standing on the side of the road aftet their first date because tommy decided he wasn't ready. because buck was nervous to come out to his best friend in public. tommy decided that buck would break his heart and that he wouldn't be buck's last. tommy came into that relationship assuming it would end. not buck, and not the audience. we were just picking up on what tommy was telling us. especially, given the fact that buck was fully ready and able to move past the abby clark of it all. tommy was a bad partner to buck, that's why they broke up.

2. i said this after 8x05, it wouldn't have made since to give us an on screen breakup if the only thing we saw of tommy was the thirty second birthday scene in 8x01. 9-1-1 loves a three ep arc and buck's side of whatever realization he might have started on 8x05. we needed to see more of tommy so it made sense when he broke up with buck. throughout all of 8x05, we saw the seeds of doubt being sowed in tommy. from the hospital scene after denny, to the closing one, tommy realized he didn't fit or at least wouldn't for long. because he never got that built-in family. he doesn't trust/believe that anyone would have his back like that. and he made that choice all on his own.

3. lfj is fine. he's a mulit-million dollar nepo baby. one whose been callled out for negative past behaviors and some people consider that bullying. lfj knew how long he was going to be on the show when he signed the contract to come back. the networks choice not to renew that contract had nothing to do with buddie stans. his storyline was over.

4. i can't even be confident that he's gone. there was a lot of stuff left unsaid or moved past too quickly. now 9-1-1 has a history of bad writing in that regard but they also have a habit of dropping things to only come back to them episodes or even seasons later. if he's really gone well thank god, but if he's not im not totally shocked.

5. i don't know how many times i have to say this. if eddie is gay or bi or demi or wtv, the cast wouldn't be able to say so because it would be a MAJOR spoiler. does no one remember andrew garfield and tom holland lying their asses off about spiderman ffh??? actors are liars, its like the whole bit. buck was straight until he wasn't. let's stop being dense and accept that maybe they aren't telling us everything because that would the defeat the purpose of the show.

look at this point im not just in this for buddie. im in this for an eddie that gets to be unapologetically himself. and im going to emphasize one more time how dangerous and disrespectful it is to force eddie back into the proverbial closet because it doesn't fit your ship.

#911 abc #idiots in love #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buck buckely #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #anti tevan #tommy kinard #911 season 8

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cottagecore-moss-king · 3 days ago

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Well darn. This wasn’t how his day was supposed to go. Of course, when Sivana decided to try and make his way out of Fawcett to who knows were, Marvel had called in some of the League members. And of course Sivana screwed up the magic and technology mix he was operating. When doesn’t he?

So, here he was, fighting along side his crew as they try to take down the giant robot.

“Hey Sivvy! You know, it’s a-bot time you try something other than giant robots!” He joked as he caught the fist soaring at him.

A lucky shot from Batman hit part of the exposed wires on the arm he was holding, and Marvel dropped it down. Green and Gold electricity arced around the open wires, and began crawling around the machine.

“I’ll beat you, I’ll beat you all!” Sivana screeched. Honestly though, he does this every month, Marvel has got to find a better way at keeping his rouges from getting supplies.

The robot lunged at Superman and charged up a green light from it’s blasters.

“Superman look out!”

Marvel lunged to push him out of the way of the magic blast. He had hoped that with the speed of Mercury he’d make it out unharmed too, but it seemed like luck was not on his side.

The magic blast clipped his shoulder, and ripped through the demigod like his own lightning.

It burned. It felt like his muscles were cramping and crushing under the weight of the sky. And then everything went loose, like he had been released from that extra small box.

He groaned, but his voice came out much higher than it normally would. Marvel shot up. He hadn’t been de-transformed had he? No, he wasn’t in any pain from when he fell out of the sky.

Are we small again?

It would appear as though the machine that Sivana made has regressed your champion form to a younger age. Solomon was of course the first to speak up, at least speak up with something helpful, as Billy no, Marvel, stared back at their hands.

I created this form to suit you Batson, this regressed form is still a prime condition of what you may be, despite it’s… eccentricities.

Oh us! You have sandal wings! I never knew you thought those were cool!

The gods in Marvels head were all delving into different appearances and whom he may have gotten them from.

No, obviously he got the lighting from me Mercury, I don’t care if your flashes have lightning, it’s my whole deal.

Looking back at the fight, which had yet to sway either way, it had only been a minute or two since he dropped from the sky.

Pft, guys how funny would it be if Billy pretended not to know Sivana AND, kicked his ass as a child?

Marvel knew it wasn’t the best, but, all the gods started trying to egg him on.

Come on, I’ll give you 15 minutes of speed in your Batson form~.

I will grant you super strength to fight back the bullies who harass you!

Billy was sold on the idea of just causing chaos, he adored seeing the mayhem he could cause. But the gods offers were also too tempting to resist, and he was down for gaining powers in his Batson form if it means sowing a bit of chaos around.

Granted, Batman or Superman might not appreciate it, but it’ll all be good in the end, he’s sure. Like, 80% sure.

Getting up and dusting himself off, Marvel looked up at Sivana.

“Πήγαινε από δω τρελό μανιακό!” (Get out of here you crazy maniac!)

He saw the glances that were sent his way by his team mates. Er. Ahem, the ‘strangely dressed people’. He was a little sad that Diana or the Green Lanterns weren’t here to translate, but they would get there eventually.

He was so giddy to realize that when he flew, his little wings on the side of his ankles flapped like they were keeping him in the air. But he didn’t have time to get distracted, he had a maniac to deal with.

One sonic boom later and Marvels foot was connecting with one of the joints of the large robot. He was going to have fun fighting.

A little snicker came out at Sivana’s face looking out at him through the glass of the head. He could always go straight for the headshot, but where would the fun be in that?

However, the fun was made to come to an end. Before he could even get to Sivana no less! Superman had stepped in and gotten a little to close for comfort for Billy.

Billy hissed. Honest to the Gods hissed! He was secretly delighted. He always adored animal behaviors, and to be able to communicate without words was awesome.

“Κάντε πίσω!” (Back off!)

“Hey kiddo, why don’t we head out someplace safer?” He said, kneeling down to be at eye level with Marvel’s new form.

“ποιος είσαι εσύ? ξένος κίνδυνος!” (Who are you? Stranger Danger!) He drew himself up and puffed himself as big as he could, like a big cat almost. Superman didn’t get the warning, and still reached out and grabbed Marvel’s arm.

Billy didn’t even get to think before he bit Superman in his arm. His Marvel form was mostly comprised of magic, so he made a pretty good mark on Supes arm.

“Hey! Not cool kiddo, we gotta get you out of here.”

Billy huffed. He was not amused, and there was no fun in listening to Superman. He could still take on Sivana!

Or he would, if Sivana was still fighting. Someone had pulled him out of his robot and whisked him away.

While Billy was distracted Superman gathered him up and pulled him into the air.

“We’re heading back to the watchtower now. Cyborg, can you go get Zatanna or Wonder Woman?”

He can’t leave! He’d have to get back to the Rock in order to find out how to fix this. If he vanishes from the watchtower Batman will be livid!

Thrashing about and wiggling, Billy struggled in Supermans hold.

“Woah, kid you gotta hold still!”

“Άσε με να φύγω!” (Let me go!)

Superman was determined not to let go of Marvel, but being a street kid had its perks. You knew how to wiggle your way out of adults grasp.

A bit of superspeed and dirty fighting and Billy was back on the ground.

“Hey! Kiddo you gotta get back here! It’s not safe!”

Billy jumped over a fallen tree in his path and continued running. He’d make it to Fawcett eventually, and there he’d be in his home element.

When he finally started to see Fawcett, it was by one of the poorer crime ridden streets. As he ducked and wove through the old and creaking buildings, he came across a warehouse.

Dammit! That’s where that trafficking ring is coming later tonight! I can’t bust it like this!

And a stroke of genius hit him. Solomon would say it’s a stupid idea, but Billy thinks it’ll go just fine.

Chapter 2:

Billy ignored the Gods protests as he sped into the building. He’d hide out here and wait until the league came and left before leaving and coming back as an adult to bust it. It was perfect!

“Hey buddy, are ya lost?”

Billy whipped around and puffed up at the two sitting in the warehouse. They had cards in front of them and one of them was smoking a cig.

‘Well shit.’

“Don’t cha worry buddy, we won’t hurt ya.”

Billy just sneered at them. ‘Batson luck strikes again.’

“Μιλάτε Ελληνικά?” (Do you speak Greek?)

“Uhhh, Penny, ya got yer phone on ya?”

“Yeah give me a sec.” the second guy, Penny, pulled his phone out from his pocket and crouched down across from him.

“Could ya say that again buddy?” he asked tapping his lips and making a talking motion then pointing to his phone.

“Μιλάτε Ελληνικά?” (Do you speak Greek?)

Glancing down at the screen as cigarette guy leaned over. A quick glance and Penny was typing something out and Cig guy went back to the table.

“Όχι, αλλά έχουμε μεταφραστή. Θέλεις να μείνεις εδώ μέχρι να έρθει η αστυνομία?” (No, do you want to stay here until the police come?)

“Όχι, όχι αστυνομία.” (No, no police.)

Penny and the cigarette guy looked at each other and smiled, turning back to Billy.

“Σίγουρα, γιατί δεν μένεις μαζί μας; Δεν είναι ασφαλές να κυκλοφορείς μόνος.” (Of course. Why don’t you stay with us? It’s not safe to walk around alone.)

Wandering over to the crate they had left their cards and were sitting around, Billy noticed an open pack of cookies next to the game. Penny notices hims staring and grabs a cookie and takes a large bite of it. After a little while he motions to the package and nods his head.

Billy didn’t really want to find out if they drugged the cookies, but he also had to play up the innocent little kid until his friends saved him.

He reached out and nibbled on a cookie, it tasted kinda weird, but not stale.

‘Billy you idiot that’s drugged!’

‘I figured that Solomon, thank you for the generous assistance. Now everyone be quite I need to focus.’

Billy slowly finished the cookie, ignoring the gods yelling and arguing, and sat down next to Penny on the floor.

Penny handed him another cookie, and Billy grabbed and ate it quickly. His Marvel form was pure magic, and invulnerable to most drugs, even ones for metas. But he still needs to pretend it’s doing something to him. Billy put on his acting face and screwed it up like he was in pain. It might have looked more like he was disgusted, but rubbing his stomach helped to seal the deal.

“Awe, little buddy isn’t feeling good. Why don’t cha pick ‘im up and comfort the lil guy.” While Cig guy certainly didn’t sound mocking, Billy still felt offended at being treated like a baby. He couldn’t show it though without breaking his cover, and so he let himself be lifted by Penny and dropped in his lap. What would be a soothing hand in a different situation ran up and down his back, occasionally combing through his hair.

“I think Donny’ll like him. Get ‘im nice and wrapped up pretty fer her and we’ll make an even prettier penny.”

Billy racked his brain trying to remember who Donny was. He didn’t have all of the code names memorized, but had them on a list back at the rock.

“Yeah, she likes when they’re too small to fight back. And this one looks skinny enough to-”

BANG!

“Unhand my brother you bastards!”

Part 3

Billy shot up at the warehouse door slamming violently open. In the middle of the doorway stalking forward viciously was Wonder Woman. She sprinted towards the two when they made a run for it and launched herself at Penny.

Grabbing his collar she jerked him back connecting his skull with her fist in a sickening crack. Penny went boneless in her grasp and she let him drop to the floor.

A couple of other league members had filled in after her, and were now approaching them. Batman and Superman were on the other side of the warehouse, preventing Cig guy from escaping out the back.

“Γεια σας εκεί μικρούλα.” ( Hello there little one.)

“Γεια σας, ποιος είστε;” (Hello, who are you?)

“Είμαι η Νταϊάνα, Είμαι ήρωας με τους φίλους μου.” (I am Diana, I’m a hero with my friends.)

Diana was acting much nicer than Superman did. She had even crouched down so that she was closer to Billy’s level on the floor.

“Κατευθύνομαι σε ένα ασφαλές σπίτι. Θα θέλατε να γίνετε μέλος μας;” (I’m heading to a safe house. Would you like to join us?)

Diana waited patently for Marvel to respond, as he looked around at the heroes. Superman was very specifically not looking at him, either that or the wall was the most interesting thing in the world to him. Batman was engaged in a conversation with the Flash and Nightwing, and Red Hood and Robin were sulking in the shadows.

“Είναι σύμμαχοί μου, δεν θα σας κάνουμε κακό. Έχεις το λόγο μου ως Πριγκίπισσα.” (They are my allies, we will do you no harm. You have my word as a Princess.)

Billy turned to look Diana dead in the eye while pointing to Superman and saying “Έχει άβολη γεύση” (It has an unpleasant taste).

Diana followed his direction and looked over at Superman, who was doing anything to avoid looking at Baby Marvel, and struggled to keep from laughing.

“Λοιπόν, δεν πρέπει να τον φας αγαπητέ. Δεν είναι βρώσιμος.” (Well you mustn’t eat him dear. He isn’t edible.)

Billy looked over at him, still desperately ignoring the two of them looking at him.

“γιατί δεν πάμε να ζητήσουμε συγγνώμη.” (Why don’t we go and apologize.) She stood up and held out her hand for Marvel to grab. Billy reached out and did what he thought a scared kid would do. He wanted to bite, but he didn’t want to be mean to Diana, she was like his sister! So, he grabbed her hand with both of his and clung tightly to her.

When they approached Superman he knelt down before finally looking at Billy and offering a small smile.

“Λυπάμαι που δαγκώνω.” (I’m sorry for biting.) Superman just blinked for a few minutes, before Diana was able to translate.

“He says that he is sorry for biting you Kal.”

“Ah, it’s no problem kiddo, we were both just worried.” When Diana went and translated Superman’s forgiveness, and knelt down besides him.

Billy plopped down on the floor and curled up next to Diana. He loved cuddling with his family, and Diana was always so comforting.

Diana and Kal engaged him in conversation, with Diana allowing for translation between the two when Flash sped over.

“Hey y’all how’s it, Woah!”

For the crime of sneaking up on Billy and startling him, his punishment was to be kicked. Unfortunately with the man moving at superspeed, Billy missed, but the effort and message was there.

“Sorry there kiddo, didn’t mean to scare you!”

Billy just stared up at him with big eyes as he apologized and crouched down.

“The names Flash, can I chat with Diana real quick?”

Billy could hear Mercury gushing over how lovely flash was, and how proud he is to have helped create the speedsters, and saying many other not very PG 13 things about him.

Billy just ignored him as Diana translated, and was ready to just chill with Diana while they talked, until she got up and walked away with Flash. Superman must have seen the anxiety in his eyes, as he talked calmy to him. He talked on about the weather and the fact that his dog was playing catch and maybe they could meet one day. It was all boring stuff, but Billy didn’t mind, he wasn’t supposed to be able to understand it any ways.

“All righty, where’s the little bugger?” Billy perked up at the familiar British accent. Constantine was here! He’d fix this right up and then he wouldn’t have to make Batman angry about magic in the watchtower!

He almost ran over to Constintine, but decided not to. It’s not like he doesn’t like his kid form, it’s just… he gets treated like a kid already, and Marvel is the only one that gets treated like an adult. He kinda misses it.

“He’s over here Constantine, don’t startle him, he’s got good reflexes,” snickers Superman waving over the magician. Diana came back to crouch beside Billy and began speaking to him.

“Ο σύντροφός μου ο Κωνσταντίνος θα κάνει κάποια μαγικά για να αντιστρέψει αυτό που είναι πάνω σου. Θα καθίσετε ακίνητος για αυτό;” (My partner Constantine is going to do some magic to reverse what is on you. Will you sit still for this?)

Billy nodded his head, the gods groaned, they weren’t done causing chaos, but they never were, so he just ignored it.

Constantine didn’t bother introducing himself, just getting the materials out and setting it up around Billy. Superman and Diana backed up out of his way, but stayed near by for support. Wither the support was for Constantine or him Billy didn’t know.

Standing up tall and holding his hands out in front of him, Constantine began to speak,

“ .mrof tluda sih ot kcab noipmahC eht nruT” (Turn the Champion back to his adult form.)

Tingling and a prickling sensation shot through him, and a small sphere of golden light appeared around him.

The floor swayed under him, wait no- that’s just Billy swaying. But, he was much higher visually than before. And a lot larger. Billy would be relived, if he could quell the nausea in his stomach.

“Marvel, how are you feeling?”

He brought a hand up to motion for them to pause, but had to put it back down to keep from falling over.

“Mmhm, gim’e sec.” he muttered. Taking slow and deep breathes, Marvel waited patiently for the world to stop acting like a boat on the sea. He could feel a hand on his shoulder as someone knelt besides him.

“Are you feeling ill brother?”

It was Diana, thank the Gods for her. Marvel nodded, and then looked up.

“Just give me a minute Di, I’ll be good.” His smile was a little shaky, but he felt it could be excused.

“Marvel, why don’t you take the rest of the day off? You can come write your report tomorrow.”

He got up and stretched, being small really felt weird when you went back to being big suddenly.

“Thanks Supes, I think I’l take you up on that, see you tomorrow.”

“Will you be alright heading back? Perhaps an escort would do you well.” Marvel shook off Diana’s worry with a wave.

“No, I’m feeling a bit better already, it won’t be an issue. I’ll just skip patrolling today.” Marvel headed for the doors and slipped out, waving goodbye to everyone as they went back to talking and moving around with the two guys.

‘I wonder why there were so many people there. They can’t have al come to pick me up. I can ask about it tomorrow.’

The next day Marvel strolled into the Watchtower feeling much better.

“Hey guys! How’s it going!”

“Ah Marvel! I’m glad to see you’re doing all right, Flash was telling us what happened earlier.” Hal was talking to Flash, who was clearly telling an animated story, apparently about the day before.

“Ah yeah, thanks for the assist guys. Why were there so many of you though? I couldn’t have been that difficult to catch.” Marvel knew he was definitely that difficult to catch, but how could they have figured it out.

“Oh, Batsy hacked into the cams and saw what was going on, and ran a background check on the guys when we got ready to pick you up. Turns out they were Meta traffickers who had a few points in child sex trafficking as well. We got real worried about ya and ran on over to help. Diana wasn’t very happy so they’re all pretty much in the hospital, and those who aren’t are firmly in jail.”

Marvel’s eyebrows shot up at that information. He’d known they were meta traffickers, but not child sex traffickers! He’s kinda glad that Diana had busted in when she did, otherwise who knows what would’ve happened. And he’s glad he still was able to get them caught, even if it wasn’t his intention.

“Well, I guess I owe Diana and Bats a thank you present huh,” he joked weakly, and Flash just patted his arm.

“It’s alright Marvel, I’m sure they’re just glad you didn’t get ah… sold to someone with bad intentions.” Flash was quick to exit the awkward conversation, and so was Hal.

Marvel just sighed, he’s still getting those thank you presents, and maybe he’s add a small something for Flash for trying to help at least. But right now he needs to write his report.

So, Plot Idea.

For one reason or another. Captain Marvel (Aka; non-feral Billy Batson) has to with the JL fight against someone or whatnot. Yet, somehow, he accidentally gets de-aged.

But the twist.

He does not just go back to little sweet mortal Billy Batson; no Captain Marvel form becomes younger. And he not the same age as Billy, it more between the ages of 6-8, instead of Billys actual 10-12 year of age. For the cherry on top is that he is dressed in traditional clothing, as it makes him seem older than he actually is. But since Soloman was like let’s give you something as cool as Eldrich Memory, he remembers everything.

But because he knows what happened doesn’t mean he would not stir shit up.

He looks around confused (playing his role), then the villain starts their monolog. And Billy is like ok, time for some fun, and curb stomps the villain all why laughing. The rest of the JL are just watching in horror as a 6-8 year old is beating the life out of the emery with such ease. When they try to calm the child, only to have a hiss and Billy acting like the true feral cat he is, because he has ‘no idea who they are’. He even goes as far as speaking a very old and dead language that they don’t understand.

All why this is happening his gods are laughing and egging him on.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #justice league #dc #feral child #Divine twitch chat #writers #my writing #writers on tumblr #dc fanart #dc fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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weltraum-vaquero · 3 days ago

Text

Swan song

Professor Viktor x TA Reader

[PART 1]｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[PART 2] ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[PART 3] (coming soon)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆[AO3 link] ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

Summary: You’re a bright phD student who won’t shy away from a challenge. Getting the most notorious professor at the University of Piltover to hire you as his assistant is one of them.

Tags: Modern AU, SFW (for now…), DILF professor Viktor, romanticizing and eroticizing borsht, lab shenanigans, reader being filled with equal parts shame and lust

Word count: 7.8k

Notice: This fic is written with a transmasculine reader in mind, but that won’t come into play at all until the final third chapter of this mini-series.

Notes: A little something something while we await season two ;] The draft for this post deleted itself twice now. If the formatting looks wonky (especially in the texting section), NO, it doesn't. Shut up.

He didn’t lie.

Which is all the more shocking, considering you attend his 8AM lecture on the very same day, and he seems more bright and alight than you’ve ever seen him.

When did he find the time?

Though there isn’t a daunting amount to your thesis just yet, you still want to believe you’ve written something quite substantial over the past months.

You toss one glance around yourself before you follow him into his office after his lecture, and you find the stack of papers you’d left on his desk last night looking positively devoured, in the most… academic way possible. Scribbles and notes litter the margins, the edges of the papers are already somehow lightly worn.

He must have read it multiple times.

“Coffee?” He offers.

“Yes, please.”

As he gropes the machine in search of its switch again, he cocks his brow at you. “And what was that for?”

You frown. “What was what for?”

“That… glance, before you followed me into my office.” The switch clicks, the light comes on. “Looking around like you were being followed.”

“Oh,” caught in the embarrassing act, you shrug. “I don’t know. Being cautious, I guess. Students have been looking at me a little funny, lately.”

“Much too late for caution, I’m afraid.”

Uh oh.

As he retrieves two paper cups, you’re left wondering what exactly that should mean.

“Why’s that?”

“I thought you were well aware of the fact that rumors would start, um… circulating the moment I made it public that I had hired an assistant.” Coffee trickles into the cups, a soothing little melody. Viktor leans against the wall beside the machine as he watches the cups fill. “I’ve always been adamant about not needing one. It is natural for people to have questions — and to come up with, eh, answers — when I suddenly do.”

The notion of the answers students might have come up with swirls around in your brain.

You wish they were right.

You’re glad they’re not.

You look at Viktor.

“Do you mind it?”

The coffee stops pouring. Viktor does that thing again, spreading long fingers apart to grasp both cups. And he’s quiet — for a beat longer than he should be.

“No. There are more important things to worry about than… gossip.” He sets the cups on the table, then takes his seat. He hesitates for a brief second, craning his neck before he fixates on you, motionless. Waiting. “Do you?”

“Trying not to.”

The answer makes him… deflate, somehow. It’s barely visible, for just a fraction of a second his chest sinks, before his tone is back to his composed cadence.

“You will get used to it,” he assures. “Now, onto more interesting matters — your work.”

Thank god. You don’t know how much more of the awkward tiptoeing you could have handled.

“Yes.” Your heart leaps into your throat. Acting normal has never been so difficult. “What did you think?”

“Very impressive.” He slides the stack of papers towards you. “I have made some… suggestions here and there, should you wish to take them into consideration. But, I think you struck gold with your hypothesis. Should you need a conversation partner, guidance, anything at all — I would gladly be at your service.”

“Thank you, Viktor. I really appreciate this.”

At the sound of his own name coming from you, something in him shifts. Shifts with an unfamiliar near bashfulness, he stifles a little smile into the rim of his paper cup, the corners of his eyes crinkle, he settles into his seat a little further.

“But you never held up your end of the bargain,” you point out. That snaps him out of it.

“Ah, yes. I did not.” He continues to hide behind his cup, before he finally seems to decide to take a metaphorical leap, as he sets it down and stares down at it. “I fear the unfortunate truth may be that when it comes to research, I either work better with a partner, or that… Cecil is right and I need to slow down. Though I’d guess the former is more likely.”

“You used to work with, uh…” you’re not sure how to approach the topic, “Talis, didn’t you?”

“The five basic principles of applied arcanism are commonly referred to as Talis’ princies, you do not have to feign uncertainty to appease me.”

So you drop the attempt to tiptoe around the subject, and ask, plainly:

“Why wasn’t your name added on?”

Viktor scoffs. “Talis-Sidorov-Sviboda has a terrible ring to it. Or so he’d said. And admittedly… I was more of a conduit than the co-author of his idea. He said we would name the next big thing we would discover after me, but… well, you know how it is. I dedicated myself to teaching, he retired to lead a quiet life in his gaudy mansion with his sports cars and his purebred German shepherds after he married some businesswoman.”

Though his story does line up, those aren��t necessarily the rumors you’d heard. There’d been talk of more than just a mild dispute of names, and… well, there had been… something between Talis and Viktor. But that’s about all you know.

Under your gaze, Viktor grows suddenly uncomfortable — both with the subject and the fact that he might be able to tell you know more. He’s quick to redirect the conversation.

“As for my research: I have been studying the laminal hexoin cascade in stabilized hexgems in various matrices. And though bold, I have been attempting to figure out the ideal matrix — something that will allow for close to a hundred percent energy renewal and render all other sources of energy obsolete.”

”That is bold,” you say. Your other thought, you keep to yourself: it also sounds impossible. You suppose stabilizing hexgems 20 years ago was also something thought impossible — and yet, Viktor hadn’t shied away. If anyone is apt for the job, it is him. “Any luck so far?”

“Partially. They have been yielding favorable results, but not enough to be viable energetic alternatives as of now.” He takes his cup again, bringing it to his lips in a rushed movement, drinking a mouthful, rather than a sip. Once Viktor sets it down, his hand remains on the table, fingers tapping on the shiny surface once, twice— “I could use a theorist to assist me with a few things.”

The implication dizzies you. Is he…?

But then he slides another one of his drawers open, and retrieves a stack of papers. Slanted handwriting, barely legible — you’re by now intimately familiar with it: his cursive. It litters the pages, in different inks and in pencil, diagrams, sketches… just looking at it makes you hungry to read it.

He smiles as if he’s read your mind, again.

“I was thinking it could be you.”

—

You’re invited to his office for lunch break the very next day too. And though he assures you there is no pressure in having to read through his notes by then, you disregard it.

It takes you a reread to be able to make sense of all his scribbles, but… it’s brilliant. He’s brilliant.

It should stop surprising you by now — his ideas, his drive, his curiosity, his mind — but with every single time Vikror impresses you anew, he becomes something more distant.

As you’re marveling at his intricate weaving of concepts, it strikes you, unpleasantly, that this is the same man you’d wanted to devour just days ago. The man who’s made you coffee, the man whose sharp eyes fold at the corners when he smiles.

You’d have deified him, had he been your teacher. You still do, especially now, after you’ve seen more of what his mind is made of. The mere notion of him becomes terribly out of reach, and you’re plagued with guilt for that night. Guilt for having tainted such a man with your thoughts.

And yet, you still can’t help but think of his neck, the soft pink of his chapped lips, the hollow of his cheeks. You wonder what his mouth tastes like, and you want to slap yourself on the wrist for it. You should have, because minutes later, you wonder about worse things too. The scent of his skin, the coarseness of his body hair, how far up under his navel it might reach.

And when you finish reading his notes a second time and bring the paper to your nose to sniff it — hoping for a trace of him — you realize you have a problem. A serious one.

It torments you for the rest of the night, through the hours you spend writing up some suggestions and ideas, all the way to when you switch off the light, and hug whatever pillow’s within reach close.

When you get the urge to tilt your hips against it, you decide to get up and splash your face with water.

And you wish you could do the same thing the very next day on your lunch break, when you’re standing in the doorway of his office and he’s eating borscht. The sweet-tangy smell of vegetables, beef and beets makes your stomach growl, but your physical hunger is long lost on your otherwise preoccupied brain.

The beet red of the soup has pigmented his lips. They look kissed raw, puffy, ripe. A lavish speck of colour on his otherwise pale face, it draws your gaze and does not let it stay somewhere more respectful.

You want to taste them.

He does it for you, raspberry pink tip of his tongue darting over the plush of his lips before he swallows and finally greets you.

“Sorry,” you say, and it comes out tense, near horrified. You’ve caught him eating soup, for chrissakes, not being bent over his table. Oh, god. Why did you have to think about that? ”I’ll come back later.”

“No,” Viktor gestures to the empty seat across from him. He screws his thermos shut, and puts it away. “Please, I’ve been waiting for you. Sit.”

And you do, like the dog you feel like you are right now.

“Did you manage to find the time to read my notes?”

Oh, did you.

“I… followed your example and made some suggestions of my own. But on separate pages. Here.”

His reaction is more than what you’d hoped for. It’s more than the impressed raise of thick brows that had kept you fueled last night, it’s more than the smile you’d been hoping for.

“You are unbelievable,” he grins, and takes what you offer, pushing his glasses up his nose before he starts reading. You selfishly use the distraction to stare at his lips again. He mutters to himself as he reads, pink mouth molding around whispered jargon, nodding. “Yes, this… this is exactly what I’d hoped for, when I’d asked for your assistance. Your fresh set of eyes is invaluable. I hadn’t thought of approaching the modification from that angle.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the page for even just a moment, flipping it surprisingly fast, and taking it with him as he leans back in his seat.

And decides to torture you.

Viktor traces the pad of his own thumb over the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in your handwriting. The give of the flesh under his fingertip hypnotizes, the slight drag of rough skin on soft pink one, your mind is long gone.

You think of rough fingertips on his lips, on his chest, rough fingertips on the pasty white of his gaunt lower stomach, rough fingertips in coarse hair. Rough fingertips dipping between his milky thighs, rough fingertips on where he runs just as pink as he does on his lips, rough fingertips dipping, slipping on slick skin—

You need to stop.

And you most certainly need help.

“Is something the matter?”

It feels like you’ve swallowed your own brain whole when he speaks, because your skull rings hollow when you try to come up with a reply that isn’t incoherent babble.

“Wh— me? No. Why?”

And because embarrassment loves to stick around once it has made its presence known, the stars align for the next social disaster: your stomach growls. Loudly.

“Did you not have lunch?” Viktor asks.

“I… didn’t get around to it,” you admit.

“I won’t take up too much of your time, then,” he assures. If he knew just how much of your time he’s started taking up — and the fact that you wish you could give him what is left of it to him, too. “I would like you to work alongside me on my research. But if you don’t feel like you can squeeze another project into your presumably busy schedule, I understand. I would be glad to have you merely as… a colleague to consult with, as well.”

Is that even a question? He’s offering you the opportunity of a lifetime. You would be an idiot not take it.

And an even bigger idiot to turn down more time spent with him.

“You don’t even have to ask,” you joke. “Yes. I would be thrilled, Viktor.”

This is his first smile you witness when his pretty boyishness doesn’t shine through. It’s a gentle quirk of his lips, no teeth to be seen, just tenderness. It makes your heart leap to be the cause of it.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

Just as you’re about to breach it — he does it first.

“Would you be free for lunch tomorrow as well?”

He watches you from below long, dark lashes as you give a breathless yes.

—

“I brought you something.”

It’s the last thing you expect as you step into his office at noon, upon exchanging hellos.

You’re alight. With curiosity, above all else. And with worry — why would he bring you something? What will you do to reciprocate?

“Thank you,” you say, though you have no idea what for just yet. “What is it?”

“I saw you eyeing my borscht yesterday.” There’s a glint in his eye that suggests more, so much so you can’t decide between flirting or digging a hole for yourself in the hardwood floor of his office.

The middle ground is standing in his office awkwardly as he unzips his backpack.

He retrieves two thermos bottles: the one you’re already familiar with, and another that looks older, more worn, and sorely lacks the sticker you’ve so come to love and fixate on and dream about. “I, eh, I made you some. In case you wouldn’t get the chance to eat before you came here.”

Your chest swells so much it hurts.

He made you soup?

“You… Viktor, this is… thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to. Have a seat.”

You practically jump into the seat across the table from his — a seat you’ve come to associate as yours, in spite of being well aware of the oppisite.

As he screws the bottle open and pours some steaming soup out into a paper bowl — god, he’d brought paper bowls — his eyes flick to you.

“But if you don’t care for borscht, you don’t have to—“

“I do care.”

And that rings true not just for the borscht.

It rings true for the soup he brings you the next day too, it rings true for every word that passes his lips. And it rings true for the time you start to spend in the insane coffee shop queue to surprise him with his preferred order and a slice of cake (a different one each day, until you figure out his favorite: cinnamon coffee), it rings true for the dark blue roughed up thermos he lets you take home the day you don’t finish the soup he brings you because you’re just so busy talking.

It’s November before you know it.

As the days grow colder, it’s not rare to be finding warmth by lavishing in Viktor’s attention as you ramble on about ideas — either for his research, or your thesis. All while he intently follows your thoughts with a smile, stopping just to shave another mouth-half-full’s worth off his cake of the day with his plastic spoon.

And once he savors the last bite, Viktor almost always flips it hollow side down, sliding it down the swell of his tongue within his mouth, removing it from between puckered lips. His cheeks hollow, he holds eye contact all the same, and it’s a mental image that haunts you. A mental image you project in your mind, nestled between the apex of your thighs. The thick of his tongue. The cushiony seal of his lips, the suction of his cheeks.

It never becomes any less distracting than the first time it happens.

You startle when Viktor speaks as he sets down the plastic spoon into the now empty packaging.

“I would like you to accompany me to the lab sometime soon. When would you be free?”

You’ve been before — but just a handful of times. Mainly for him to demonstrate or disprove certain guesses, or test conclusions you’d reached together.

“I’m free right now,” you suggest.

Viktor shakes his head. “I have a lecture in an hour.”

Right.

“I mean… I think we could make it in an hour.”

“I prefer to take my time.” Viktor leans back in his seat, stares thoughtfully at the clock on his wall for a moment. “Would seven PM work for you?”

“Uh…” you mentally go through your schedule for the day, “yes. It should. I might be a little late, though. How about… seven fifteen-ish?”

“Good.” The flow of the word is syrupy, yet his next sentence comes out surprisingly peppy with excitement: “See you then.”

—

Though you’re well into the final week of November, it never stops bothering you just how quickly the sun sets. By the time you get to the lab, the air’s gone cold, dry, and the darkness is heavy and thick.

Viktor waits for you just outside the university lab, under the halo of the street light — perhaps just a hint overdressed for the cold, in your opinion. It’s certainly trench coat season, though his is surprisingly long, reaching somewhere along the middle of his shins. The hand he hasn’t tucked in his pocket holds his cane and is clad in a leather glove. Around his lengthy neck, a red knitted scarf lays in chunky, impenetrable layers, reaching almost all the way to the swell of his top lip and his ears. You can hardly see his smile from underneath when he spots you — but his eyes give him away.

“Right on time,” Viktor’s tone has just as much pep to it as a few hours ago, perhaps even moreso. He rolls his shoulders, before he subtly nuzzles further down into his scarf, shying away from the biting cold. “Let’s get inside.”

He leads the way into the building, its warmth embracing you the moment you step in. The tip of your nose and your fingertips feel like they’re beginning to thaw, tingling just a hint. As you go to take off your coat, you notice Viktor isn’t in a rush. He rests his cane against the wall before he unwraps the thick, wide scarf from around his neck, folding it. He sets it on a nearby table, shucking off his trench coat, slender shoulders under a wool sweater. You watch closely as he then takes his scarf and stuffs it into the sleeve of his coat before he hangs it up.

There’s something stiff, painful, about how he moves. You wonder if it’s the cold.

“What?” He watches you with appeased amusement.

Caught red-handed, you jump, still halfway clad in your coat.

“Nothing,” you reply, scraping for a way to deflect from your obvious staring. “Not a big fan of the cold?”

“Never.” He says it like it’s a very serious matter. “I still don’t know how I made it through my first eighteen winters in St. Petersburg.”

“You grew up in Russia?”

He laughs through his nose like you’ve told him a half good joke. “What gave it away? The accent? The surname?”

“No, I just thought… Svoboda is a Czech surname.”

With how his smile turns knowing, self-satisfied, you’re suddenly back in his office again, uncertain and nervous and asking for a job as his assistant. He could taunt you with the knowledge that you’ve looked up his last name, embarrass you a little, play with you.

But he isn’t that man anymore — not to you. This time, he feeds your curiosity, albeit just with crumbs.

“My mother’s,” he clarifies. “Sidorov is Russian — my father’s.”

Oh.

“It’s nice that they used both their names. I’m assuming that wasn’t… common, back then, and back there.”

“It wasn’t, and they did not.” Viktor waits for you to hang up your coat, watchful gaze making your every movement feel loaded with static that’s about to snap. “I added hers when I changed my name.”

Changed his name?

The image of the sticker on his thermos turns up fresh in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder…

“Well? I was hoping we could discuss more in the lab, but if you prefer the coat hanger…”

Goddamn it. Focus. You need to focus.

“Sorry.”

You catch up, then slowly follow Viktor down the hallway, into the small lab he has been assigned. It’s one of the less grand ones, but it has all it needs — from a pretty new hexion accelerator to a humble whiteboard. It smells sanitized, sterile, ozonic.

You assume your usual seat by the whiteboard while he sets up. It still doesn’t feel… right to let him do all of that by himself, but he insists upon it, so, you stay out of his way. Viktor tidies up the space just a little, finding his goggles among the mess. He slips them onto his head, elastic pulling back his soft hair into a fluffy grey and brown mess. His cane thumps against the linoleum with every hurried step — though he doesn’t seem to be hurrying on account of you being there as much as excitement to show you.

Once he’s done, he sits in front of the accelerator, slipping his goggles on, and nods for you to come. Which you do — you’d be at his beck and call beyond just the academic context. For a moment, you pluck the inviting tilt of his head and the quirk of his lips out of their context, and you plant it atop your own bed, him in just a loose shirt, underwear, lax with freshly received pleasure. More comfortable than he’s ever been, all because of you. Beckoning for you. Come here. Smiling at you when your knee dips into the mattress, tucking his index under your chin as you crawl to him, reeling you in for a kiss.

“Come closer.”

God help you.

You comply with a wildly beating heart, stepping forward until you’re close behind his sitting form, watching the accelerator over his shoulder.

He smells nice. Like an indistinct, aromatic cologne, covering up the natural, gentle musk of his skin. You have to resist the urge to dip your head down and trace the tip of your nose along his spine, from where the bones of his neck show to where the scruff at the back of his head goes thicker, fuller. You wonder if he’d shiver as you let the scent of him imbue you… you wonder if he’d lean into it, if he’d tilt his head for you, let you dip your face into the slope of his shoulder, where his scent’s more potent.

The mere thought of him, vivid in your nostrils and clinging to your palate and the floor of your brain, rattles you with a shiver.

“I thought I’d rather show you than tell you,” he explains, wrapping both pale, bony hands around the handles of the accelerator. Steam hisses from the exhaust, flooding the room with more ozone, and gently, but certainly, the gem starts to spin behind the glass panel, beginning to levitate out of its socket, illuminating the room.

God, you should have put on goggles too, it’s making your eyes hurt. It’s a welcome reminder as to why you chose to spend most your days staring down a blackboard rather than the thing itself. The screen right above it is more of a familiar sight to you: numbers, reading the rotations per minute, as well as energetic output, steadily increasing.

It whirrs, magic static whirling up around the blue orb, electricity crackles.

You can see the appeal of this over a blackboard. But you’d still take the chalk. Especially considering the deafening noise.

Nevermind the damn goggles. You need to remember to bring some ear plugs.

“Watch the panel.” Viktor raises his voice over the hum of the machine, and turns to you, watching you from behind foggy lenses with a smile. You wish you could see the way his crow’s feet deepen. It rumbles harder, so much so Viktor almost has to shout the next thing he says, which is a shame, because his usually playful lilt is lost in the noise of it. “Not to… spoil the outcome of this experiment for you, but I implemented the conclusions we came to last week, and, it is safe to say…”

With a well-timed click and tug on a lever, the machine disengages, and the gem drops back into its socket under the influence of gravity. Its violating light returns to a faint, blue glow, like an artificially lit aquarium; fluctuating and undulating gently in its intensity. The potential energy indicator’s numbers climb back up, steadily, but faster than what you’ve seen before.

Much faster.

You can’t help but grin with excitement. “It’s regenerating fast.”

Viktor smirks at you over his shoulder like you’re sharing a sacred, intimate inside joke.

“It is.“

You await the verdict with a bated breath.

“How much?”

Viktor’s smile only grows, like he’s about to give you a present. And, all things considered, this is going to be one, in months’ or maybe even years’ time.

“A thirty-seven percent recovery after usage within an hour.” Viktor spins in the lab stool to face you with the theatrical self-satisfaction of a magician who just sawed his assistant in half and is waiting for the applause. You nearly forget to step back to give him the space for it, so much so your knees knock together. But there is no chance for you to apologize, Viktor is unbothered, sliding the goggles up his forehead enthusiastically, his show of complacency ditched in favor of pure excitement. “That is more than I’ve ever achieved thus far. Thanks to y—”

His voice sticks in his throat, turning into a pained hiss.

His hair’s tangled in his goggles.

“Oh, wonderful,” he grits out sarcastically.

A frustrated half-sigh half-groan rumbles in his chest as he pulls again and only makes things worse.

“Could you get me a pair of scissors? I should have some in the third drawer over there.”

“Wait. At least let me try first,” you insist. Reluctantly, you step closer, and after a moment’s hesitation, Viktor lowers his head for better access like a feral animal letting itself be pet for the first time. He sits still, the sound of both your breaths suddenly loud in the tall, quiet room as you’re forced to step even closer. “Could you…”

You nudge his ankles apart with the tip of your shoe.

He listens.

After a stuttering, fragile exhale, Viktor spreads his thighs.

You take the space offered. And you try not to think about kneeling, about making a home for yourself between his thighs.

“Do you think you can do it?”

You wish he’d asked you that about any number of things, except for the goggles tangled in his feathery, soft hair.

But yes. You think you do.

It would have been a terrible shame to cut it — though some shorter, bluntly cut hairs that sit a little further back near the top of his head tell you his suggestion was not the product of a new idea. Carefully, you pull whatever hairs are looser from between the lens and the bridge of the goggles, though a strand remains stubborn.

You try to ignore the warmth of his breath on your shirt, the intoxicating, soapy, yet distinctively human smell of his scalp, and the mesmerizing ratio of grey to dark brown, the subtle heat on the sides of your palms and wrists, resting on his head for stability.

As you separate another few hairs from the stuck strand and accidentally tug at them, Viktor has no reaction. Beyond swallowing thickly, and sitting through it dutifully.

You wonder if he’d act just the same, had you bunched his hair into the spaces between your fingers and tugged — simply biting his tongue and chewing through the pain — or if he’s leaned into the force, moaning with it, and god, you’ve hurt him, and you haven’t even apologized.

“Sorry.” You sound twice as genuine — mainly because you apologize for much worse than the inflicted pain. “Almost done.”

“The scissors would have been faster,” he half-jokes.

His voice sounds different. A hint more… strained. He shifts in the seat, wipes his hands on his slacks.

“Would have been a shame, though. You have pretty hair.” The last part of the sentence positively escapes you, and once you hear it, you freeze. Your brain scrambles itself trying to add something that will fix the inherent following awkwardness, the horrifying realization you just called your boss pretty, the fact that it’s true, the fact that—

Viktor flinches with another accidental tug of his hair, and so do his thighs — jumping with the surprise, clenching together until they squeeze around yours. But they’re gone just as fast, flinching away with horrified urgency. Before you get to savor the supple flesh pressing into your own in another new perverted way, before you get to imagine his ankles locking behind you, tilting and rubbing your hips into the hug of his thighs.

You need. To get. A grip.

“Sorry.”

You continue on in silence, and thank everything above he at the very least can’t see the way your hands shake, because he’s staring at the floor like he could drill a hole into it with just his eyes.

You should have gotten the damn scissors. As if through divine intervention, the rest of his hair comes loose not soon after.

“Okay. All done.” You smooth the slightly crinkled, but now free strand back down into the rest of his soft hair.

Viktor’s dainty features come into view from below his face framing pieces as he tilts his chin up. His lips quirk into a gentle smile, his eyes sparkle in the faint blue glow, soft shadows under the hollow of his cheeks and the swell of his lip and the tip of his nose and the bone of his brow. You wish you could immortalize him in whatever way he’d let you — a sculpture, a painting, a poem. He looks ripe for kissing, eyes half-lidded and twice as dreamy as he peers at you.

You’re going to see him like this in your mind’s eye later tonight.

Nestled between your thighs, or kissing down your stomach, molten gold under long, dark lashes, sitting atop carved marbled bone.

“Thank you.” He says it quietly — like it would break the sudden holiness of the moment to say it any other way.

He’s so warm.

You could kiss him. See what the ozone of the room tastes like in the slick of his mouth. You wonder if he’d let you, if he’d suckle your tongue into his mouth in a show of submission, or if he’d bite your lip, licking your teeth, pressing, pushing, make you earn the privilege to taste him.

You wonder if he’d hold you, or if his curious hands would roam, tracing the front of your stomach, or your spine, or press to the middle of your breastbone like he wants to see where you’d split open for him down the middle like a ripe peach. You wonder if he’d let you dip a hand down the front of his slacks, you wonder if he’d tilt his hips into it like he’d been aching for it, aching for you. Scorching your hand with want, materialized in slick or straining hardness. You wonder which it’d be.

From where you’re standing, the distance between the apex of his chin and the space where his slacks stretch between his thighs is small — and your gaze takes the leap, searching. But the material dips and curves in such a way that you’re left none the wiser, and with nothing but a disgusting realization.

You’re staring at your boss’ crotch.

You step back from the heat between his thighs, painfully awake, aware. It squeezes and wriggles in your chest like you have a parasite lodged in the chambers of your heart.

You’re disgusting.

You need to put an end to this.

“You’re welcome, professor.”

With that, you’re practically bolting from between his thighs, to stash the scissors away again.

You’re neglecting your job, you’re putting it in jeopardy. Putting yourself in jeopardy, risking all the rumors circulating becoming a shameful truth, you’re risking the first man who ever kept up with you, followed you where you wanted to go and took you further — you’re risking it all because he makes you unbelievably fucking horny.

And it’s absurd. Embarrassing. You need to get a hold of yourself.

“I was… thinking, actually,” you begin, and want to punch yourself over how Viktor perks back up from where you’d left him. “About some things regarding my thesis that I’d like your thoughts on.”

“Oh. Of course.” You have got to be imagining the subtle disappointment in his tone. The second you let yourself believe it’s more than just a figment of your make-believe, is the second you will be doomed.

Viktor, with all his years and experience, would and does know better than to fall for his assistant. You know he does.

“What’s on your mind?” He prompts after your prolonged silence.

If he knew the half of it.

—

You’re late.

And it’s a direct, shameful consequence of last night’s lusting, the time you’d spent frustratedly tossing and turning and thinking of his mouth and his eyes and his scent, before you’d given in past midnight, and humped your hand into completion.

Thinking about him under you, about pressing your face into his neck, about pressing him into the mattress and rutting into him until he gushes and his tired body sings for you and his voice cracks. Until he breaks for you, until pleasure itself oils and unscrews all the biological cogs of his body and he comes out unstrung, reborn.

Viktor’s in a wheelchair.

And he looks worse for wear than you’ve ever encountered him before, slumping in the chair and massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index, seemingly gathering his thoughts. He’s dressed even warmer than usual, in a loose but thick, dark red sweater. There’s a colorful knitted blanket folded and set over the tops of his thighs.

Viktor doesn’t acknowledge you when you come in and sit near the whiteboard, simply resumes his lecture as he regains his mental footing. And he goes on for a while, not sparing you a single glance, as he goes through powerpoint slides today, instead of his usual writing and hand drawn diagrams.

He’s at it for a while, not as fast as his usual pace, but undeniably concise, certain. Until…

“The energy output increases proportionately to the spin, and, with powerful enough matrices, some hexgems can create force fields of their own. This is a particularly common phenomenon in unstabilized gems as well, though with the activation of their force field, those tend to also create… eh…”

Viktor stops, sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. He frowns, mumbling something in another language, which, judging by the heavy consonants and squeezed vowel, you’d assume it’s Russian. The word must be slipping his mind, so you decide to help out.

“A shock wave.”

Viktor’s gaze cuts. He’s looked at you with disinterest before, sure, but this…

He doesn’t even turn his head to look at you, just eyes you from the corner of his vision like something unworthy of acknowledgment. You wish you could swallow your words back up.

“Yes,” he says. “Thank you. A shock wave.”

You don’t say anything again for the rest of the lecture.

Once the door falls shut behind the last few students who have left the room, Viktor turns to you. You wish you could shrink; and it feels like you do, when he finally speaks.

“I appreciate your intention to help — but do not interrupt me again. I know what I’m trying to say.” He sounds utterly unlike himself, both spent and angry. “I don’t need help. Especially not in the middle of a lecture.”

“Sorry.”

That alone softens him up a hint. He looks away, rubbing his thumbs against the wheels of his chair, before he speaks again. Calmer.

“Just… do not let it happen again.”

As he slumps in his seat, massaging at his temples, you understand that his anger… might not have been as directed at you as you’d initially thought. He’d been snippy when his back hurt — having switched to a wheelchair must mean he’s in a lot more pain now.

And you understand his frustration. He’d just gotten himself an assistant a few months back, and started a new project — looking like he requires help in front of his students is certainly not doing his reputation right now any favors.

“But if there’s other things I can do to make your day a little easier, I’d like to do them.”

“No, thank you.” He shakes his head, before he grabs both wheels and advances to where he’d left his bag. As he starts packing his things, he stops again, quietly groaning somewhere in the back of his throat. “Where did I put my pen…”

Viktor eventually finds it right behind his water bottle on the table, tossing the both of them into his bag, shutting it tightly. You expect him to wheel himself over to the ramp that leads to the exit, but he just hangs his head, massaging at his temples again, before he looks at you.

“Actually, I’d like it if you went to my office and got me a silver tin box in the… fourth drawer on the left side of my desk. Do you have the key with you, or should I give you mine?”

“I have it. I’ll be quick.”

“Thank you.”

And you deliver on your promise. You don’t run, but you power walk there, and you’re back with (hopefully the right) tin box in the same lecture hall before his break ends.

Viktor takes it from you gladly, popping it open. It contains two foils of painkillers, one already half empty, a small ziploc bag of… gummies, and at the very bottom, some dark chocolate.

You must have pulled a bit of a face at the contents — particularly the gummies — because Viktor cocks a brow at you, before he faintly chuckles under his breath and pops three painkillers in one go.

After depositing the foil back in the box, he fishes out the dark chocolate bar. It looks to be the expensive kind, something Belgian — Viktor breaks off a piece, putting it in his mouth, before he holds it out to you.

“Peace offering,” he clarifies when you hesitate.

You’d be a fool to turn him down. You take some — it’s rich, buttery, and melts on your tongue. It coats your mouth with its taste, dark and aromatic and unfortunately not as sweet as you thought Viktor preferred. He’d always favored the almost disgustingly sugary cakes.

“Didn’t think you’d like something so bitter,” you say.

“I do not. It sometimes helps with my migraines,” he tells you. “Sugar makes them worse. A very… devastating discovery to make, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

You wonder if right now is the right time to be curious — and you decide it might be.

“Do the migraines also affect your leg? Or the other way around?”

“No.” Viktor shakes his head, popping off another piece of dark chocolate. “This,” he gestures at himself, the wheelchair, “was just a very unfortunate… overlapping.”

“Oh.” You grimace in sympathy. “Fun.”

“A punishment for it, more like.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Let’s hope my migraine eases up on me throughout this lecture.” He smiles at you — and for the first time you’ve known him, he looks old doing it. Exhausted. The face of a man who’s seen enough hardship for a lifetime, but has yet to cave under it.

You wish you could hold him. You wish you could melt it away, kiss it better, love it better. Whatever he’d let you.

You surprise both him and yourself when you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder and let your thumb rub a small circle over the wool.

Though he flinches at the first contact, once something in his brilliant mind unfurls and settles, so does he. Through the cracks, tenderness shines under the fatigue. Viktor can be soft — in spite of everything im his body and his past that protests against it. “Thank you.”

You take your hand away sooner than you’d like — but at the ideal time to keep it from being anything more than a friendly touch.

“I’m glad I could help,” you say.

—

Viktor isn’t there at all next week.

You come in on Monday to find his office empty during lunch break, and when you attend his lecture, it’s another professor from his department teaching it. The students don’t seem all too excited about the change either — and you leave before it even starts.

Heimerdinger is none the wiser about Viktor’s situation when you talk to him — in spite of their shared history. He simply tells you he’d taken the week off and had arranged for substitutes.

You consider messaging him… and ultimately end up doing so, after some internal debate. You simply text him to get well soon and that you hope he’s getting some well-deserved rest. He replies with just a plain thank you.

Tuesday is quiet. You receive a stack of midterms you need to get through from the substitute, and you do, by Thursday morning. Which is when Heimerdinger messages you.

Dr. Prof. Cecil B Heimerdinger

Good morning! I’m well aware this is on very short notice — but the substitute professor has unfortunately suffered a minor car accident. Not to worry; they only sustained small njury. However, I am finding myself forced to task you with Viktor’s lectures today. Do you think you could take care of that? Thank you.

-Cecil B. Heimerdinger

9:32

Just the thing you needed — teaching two full lectures, entirely unprepared.

Alright. You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You just need to find out what’s even on the agenda for today. You could text Viktor, right? If he answers on time, that is… he’s sick, he might as well be asleep right now. You could call, but… he said only to do that in the case of an emergency when he gave you his phone number.

Would this count as an emergency?

Your phone beeps.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

There should be a black flash drive in the third drawer on the left in my desk. It has all my lectures.

9:34

Today’s topic is LHC segments naturally occurring in unstabilized gems. Feel free to use my work laptop to familiarize yourself with the presentation before the lecture.

9:35

Thank you so much!

9:35

His answer comes a few minutes later, just as you fish the flash drive out of his drawer, and plug it into his laptop.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

Good luck 👍

9:42

It would be a lot easier to get caught up in the desire to snoop around on his laptop if you didn’t have less than 20 minutes left until the lecture. His background is disappointingly the default image, but some of his folders look undeniably tempting — not just the scientific ones, which take up most of the space. There’s some photo albums titled with the year and location: Germany 2011, Czech Republic 2009, among many others. There’s also a photo album titled Persichka.

Who is that?

You almost click it. But then you check your watch again and realize you only have 15 more minutes until the lecture, and decide against it.

—

For how utterly unprepared you are, it goes surprisingly well. You stumble, once or twice, but you’re glad to see that even by the end of the lecture, you still have most students’ attention.

After you dismiss the class, you don’t expect questions. But a good handful of them, a little under ten, approach your desk, whispering among themselves, before a hastily appointed representative emerges.

“We were just wondering,” she awkwardly begins, “if professor Sidorov-Svoboda is alright. And when he’s coming back.”

“Oh.” You hope they’re asking because they understandably prefer him, and not because you did a particularly shabby job. “He texted me just today — he’s doing alright. But I can’t give you an exact estimate for when he’s coming back just yet.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

With that, all of them turn to go. After the last student has left the room, you reach for your phone, and pray you don’t see any other day-altering messages today.

Dr. Prof. Viktor Sidorov-Svoboda

I did not mean for you to have to do this.