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p4ranormaluv · 12 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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the-winter-spider · 3 days ago

Text

Invisible | Part Eight

Pairing: Bucky x reader AU

Word count: 3.7k

Warning: Angst....

A/N: first of many fights <3 also your comments make my day

-----

You walk into the apartment, the excitement from your date still buzzing faintly inside you—until you spot Bucky sitting on the couch. His eyes immediately flick to yours, his expression unreadable, and just like that, any leftover thrill from the night vanishes, replaced by an ache that settles heavily in your chest.

It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him all week, and for a second, neither of you says anything. Then he stands, clearing his throat. “So… how’d it go?”

His words reignite the frustration you’ve been holding back since last week, since his careless comment at the bar. Instead of brushing past him like you’d planned, you stop, crossing your arms and staring at him, letting your words come out sharper than you intended.

“Good. It was a great date, actually,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Dean was a total gentleman, and wouldn’t you know it—I handled a real date just fine.”

A flicker of regret crosses his face, but he quickly looks away, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “That’s… that’s not how I meant it. I don’t know why I said that, and you know I’d never hurt you on purpose.”

You laugh bitterly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room, as you shrugged off your coat, placing your keys and phone in the dish. “Really, Bucky? Because lately, that seems like the only thing you’ve been doing—hurting me.”

His gaze snaps back to you, his expression hardening. “You really want to do this? Just… hash everything out right now?”

You throw your arms up, the frustration boiling over. “Why the hell not? It’s not like things have been getting any better with us pretending everything’s fine!”

He steps closer, his jaw tight. “Fine. Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about that night, then.” He pauses, his voice dropping as his eyes bore into yours. “Why did you leave?”

You freeze, caught off guard. “What… what do you mean?”

He takes another step toward you, anger and hurt evident in his face. “You know exactly what I mean. After that night at the party, after we… after we slept together. Why did you leave without a word? I woke up, and you were just gone.”

Your pulse quickens, emotions swirling in a chaotic mess inside you. “Are you kidding me, Bucky? Did you even want me to stay?”

He lets out a hollow laugh, the sound filled with disbelief. “What are you talking about? Of course I did! You’re the one who walked out, not me!”

The anger rises, mixing with all the hurt and confusion you’ve buried over the years. “I left because… because I panicked, alright? You had this reputation, Bucky, and everyone knew it. I thought… I thought you’d wake up, regret it, and hate me for being just another one of your mistakes.”

His eyes widen, a mixture of anger and disbelief flashing across his face. “Do you really think that little of me? You think I’d just… forget about you? You’re my best friend, for god’s sake. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and you thought I’d throw that away for just sex?”

“Oh, so it was just sex, huh?” you snap, bitterness dripping from every word.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” he shouts, frustration evident as he rakes a hand through his hair, his voice breaking slightly. “God, you have to know it was more than that!”

You cross your arms tighter around yourself, trying to hold everything in. “I don’t know what I thought, Bucky. But I knew I couldn’t stand being something you regretted. I wasn’t going to sit there and wait for you to decide whether it was worth anything to you.”

He stares at you, hurt and frustration radiating from him. “All I’ve ever done is care about you. Everything people said about me, all those rumors—they were just that. Rumors. I thought you of all people would know that.”

You look away, fighting the sting of tears in your eyes, but he steps closer, his voice rising. “Do you know how much it killed me? You left me there like it meant nothing.”

“Maybe it didn’t mean as much as you think it did!” you shout back, anger overtaking the sadness. “Maybe that night wasn’t some big, life-changing moment for either of us. Maybe it was just a mistake!”

His face crumples slightly, like you’ve slapped him, and his voice drops, filled with hurt. “Is that really what you think?”

You hesitate, the words burning in your throat, but you nod, unable to back down. “I… I don’t know, Bucky. All I know is that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting around, trying to read between the lines, hoping you’ll finally decide what you want.”

He steps back, his face hardening, his voice cold. “Then maybe you should go. If you’re so tired of being here, if I’m such a disappointment to you… maybe it’s better for both of us if you’re not here.”

Your heart clenches painfully, but you force yourself to nod, swallowing back the tears. “Fine. If that’s what you want, then I’ll go.”

“Go, then!” he yells, his eyes flashing, and you can see the unshed tears there, barely contained. “Get out. Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore. Just… leave.”

For a moment, you just stare at him, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. Then, without another word, you turn on your heel, your hands shaking. You feel the tears spilling over as you open the door, but you don’t let yourself look back, slamming it behind you, the sound echoing painfully through the empty apartment.

The chill of the night air bites into your skin as you walk through the dark streets, the city lights casting a glow around you, making the world feel almost surreal. You’re shivering, partly from the cold and partly from the adrenaline that’s kept you moving since you stormed out of the apartment, leaving behind your coat, your phone—everything. You feel like you’re walking through a dream, or maybe a nightmare, your heels clicking against the pavement in the silence.

It’s only after you’ve been walking for a while, the shock wearing off, that you realize the closest place you can go is Steve and Sam’s. You pick up your pace, arms wrapped around yourself, mascara streaking down your cheeks as the wind stings your face. It’s late, nearly ten o’clock on a Saturday night, and as you walk you can’t help but worry. What if they’re not home? What if you just end up standing outside in the cold, with nowhere to go?

You finally reach their apartment building and practically rush up to their door, knocking, then pressing your ear to the door, hoping you hear movement inside. The minutes feel like hours, and you’re starting to feel that familiar rise of panic, the one that tightens your chest and makes it hard to breathe. Just as you’re about to give up, you hear footsteps on the other side.

The door unlocks, and then it opens, revealing Steve.His face shifts from confusion to shock as he takes you in. “What the hell happened?” he asks, voice thick with concern as he quickly pulls you inside, shutting the door behind you. “Are you okay?”

The second you’re inside, the warmth of the apartment breaks down whatever wall you were holding up. You start crying, and without a word, Steve wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you sob against his chest.

After a moment, he gently guides you to sit on the couch, his hand rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles. But as you pull away, wiping at your smudged makeup, you see the worry in his eyes shift to something sharper, angrier.

“Wait,” he says, frowning as he looks you over again. “Where’s your coat? And your phone? You didn’t just walk all the way here without anything, did you?”

You sniffle, still catching your breath, and nod, the hurt fresh all over again. “I left everything at the apartment,” you manage, voice shaky. “I just… I couldn’t stay there, Steve. Bucky told me to get out. He told me to leave.”

Steve’s face falls in shock, his mouth opening slightly as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “He… he told you to get out?” he repeats, trying to process it. “And then just let you walk out? At this hour? Without your things?”

You nod, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cover your face. “I don’t think he… he was just so mad, Steve. I was too. He didn’t care. He just… told me to go.”

Steve lets out a sharp exhale, struggling to contain his anger. “That’s no excuse. I don’t care how mad he was, he should’ve never let you leave like that. He should’ve checked on you, at the very least. Damn it…” He reaches out, squeezing your shoulder with a mix of anger and worry. “You should have called me. I’d have come to get you in a second.”

You offer a small, broken smile through your tears, still trembling. “I know… I just… wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He shakes his head, his hand still on your shoulder, his gaze intense and filled with concern. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice softens, his anger giving way to a fierce protectiveness. “I just can’t believe he let you walk out alone. It kills me that you felt like you had to do this.”

He squeezes your shoulder, his voice soft. “Do you want to talk about it, or just… sit for a while?”

You let out a shaky laugh, still catching your breath. “I don’t even know what to say. Everything just… came out. All these things we’ve been avoiding saying, and… I don’t know. I didn’t think it’d hurt this much.”

Steve nods, a sad, sympathetic look crossing his face. “Sometimes… those things we avoid saying are the things that hurt the most. Especially when it’s someone we care about.”

You feel a tear slip down your cheek, and he reaches up, brushing it away gently. His eyes are soft, filled with an empathy that makes you feel a little less alone. “Thank you, Steve,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

You lean into him, letting yourself sink into his warmth, and he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around you again. The adrenaline finally ebbs, exhaustion taking its place as you relax in his embrace, feeling safe for the first time since you left.

You close your eyes, and before long, you start to feel them grow heavy, your breaths slowing as you begin to drift off on Steve’s shoulder.

A few minutes later, Steve’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He carefully shifts, trying not to disturb you, and pulls it out to see a message from Natasha: Hey, have you heard from her? She hasn’t updated me on the date, isn’t answering her phone, and I’m getting worried.

He sighs, glancing at you before typing back, She’s here. She walked from the apartment without her phone or her coat. She and Bucky got into it, pretty bad, ive never seen her like this.

Natasha’s response is almost instant: Are you kidding me? followed by a string of angry emojis.

Steve takes a deep breath, looking down at you as he types out another message, this time to Bucky, his fingers pressing the keys harder than usual: She’s here. Alone. No thanks to you! Without her things. And you let her walk out like that? What the hell were you thinking?

He sends the message and then texts Sam, who’s still out with coworkers, letting him know to be quiet when he comes home because you’re sleeping on the couch. A moment later, Sam replies with a string of question marks.

Steve glances down at you, tucked against him, your breathing even and steady now, and sighs before typing a final message to Sam: I’ll explain everything later.

Steve sits on the couch, holding you gently as you fall asleep against him, your breathing soft and steady now, a world away from the state you were in when you first showed up at the door. He glances down at you, feeling a pang in his chest as he takes in the remnants of your makeup, smudged from the tears you cried on his shoulder, and he’s struck by just how much he hates seeing you like this—hurting, broken down, all because of Bucky.

Yet, selfishly, there’s a part of him—deep down, hidden from everyone, including himself most days—that’s grateful you came to him tonight. He knows it’s wrong, knows it’s just his heart betraying him again, but he can’t help it. He’s loved you since junior high, since you were both just kids fumbling through life, figuring out what friendship meant. And over the years, that love has only deepened, becoming something he never talks about, never even lets slip. He’s had to sit on the sidelines and watch as you poured your heart into Bucky, hoping one day he’d finally open his eyes and see you the way Steve does.

You deserve everything in the world, Steve thinks. Someone who’ll give you the love you’ve always deserved, who wouldn’t leave you standing alone in the middle of a dark city street, heartbroken and afraid. But instead, you’re stuck in love with someone who’s too scared to do anything about it, and Steve… he’s just the friend you come to when it all falls apart.

A tear slips down his cheek, and he wipes it away quickly, forcing a silent, bitter laugh at himself. You’re his Bucky, he realizes painfully, and he’s you—watching, waiting, knowing you’ll never see him the way he sees you. It’s a cruel irony, and he hates himself for even thinking it.

Just then, the door creaks open, and Sam steps inside, blinking in surprise as he takes in the sight of you curled up against Steve, your tear-streaked face softened in sleep. He gives Steve a puzzled look, eyebrows raised, and Steve just raises a finger to his lips, shushing him. Carefully, he shifts out from under you, gently laying your head on the couch cushion and covering you with the throw blanket. He watches you for a moment before standing up and walking over to Sam, who’s now leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.

“What happened?” Sam asks, his voice low as he eyes Steve with concern.

Steve rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “She showed up about an hour ago, just… wrecked. Crying, shivering at the door. She didn’t have her phone, her keys, or even a coat.”

Sam’s eyes widen. “What? Why didn’t she have her stuff?”

Steve’s jaw tightens as he answers, anger simmering in his voice. “Because Bucky told her to leave. They had a huge fight, and he just let her walk out like that. She came here on foot, alone, and he didn’t stop her. Didn’t even check if she had what she needed.”

Sam lets out a long breath, running his hands down his face in frustration. “Are you kidding me? That guy is such an idiot sometimes.”

“You don’t think I know that?” Steve mutters, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “I thought he was supposed to tell her how he felt. I thought he was ending things with Kate.”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “I know. I thought that was the plan too. Just last week, he said he was done with the excuses, that he was going to finally tell her. I don’t know what the hell’s holding him back, but tonight… she had her first date in years, Steve. She was supposed to have a good night, for once, and instead, she’s here, like this.”

Steve’s gaze shifts back to you, his heart aching as he watches you sleep. “I don’t get it. If he cares about her like he says he does, why does he keep doing this to her? Why won’t he just be honest?”

Sam sighs, shaking his head as he leans against the counter. “I don’t know, man. But she was so happy earlier. Right before her date, and she just… she was glowing. I hadn’t seen her like that in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. “And now… now she’s back to this, all because of him.”

Sam lets out a deep breath, crossing his arms. “Maybe this is a turning point, though. Maybe some good can come from this mess.”

Steve frowns, glancing back at him. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

Sam gestures toward you, curled up on the couch. “Maybe some space between them will be good for both of them. She can finally see that she deserves better than this back-and-forth, and he can realize what he’s throwing away. Maybe it’s what they both need.”

Steve sighs, looking down, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… maybe.” But as he stares at you, asleep on the couch, he can’t shake the quiet ache in his chest, wondering if you’ll ever see that someone’s been there for you all along.

---

The next morning, Steve steps out of his room to find Sam already up, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in hand. Sam glances toward the couch, noticing you still curled up, fast asleep, wrapped in a throw blanket.

“She’s still out,” Sam says quietly, nodding in your direction.

Steve looks over at you and nods. “Yeah, she must've been exhausted,” he says softly.

Sam takes a sip of his coffee, watching Steve for a moment before asking, “You gonna skip your run today?”

Steve glances back at him, then shakes his head. “I can miss a day,” he replies with a shrug, moving into the kitchen and grabbing things from the fridge to start breakfast.

Sam watches him, setting his mug down on the counter. “Look, man… this can’t be good for you either.”

Steve pauses, glancing at Sam. “What do you mean?”

Sam gives him a pointed look. “Come on, you know what I mean. You, being in love with her all these years.” He lowers his voice slightly, glancing over at you again. “Just… I don’t want to see any more of my best friends getting hurt, alright?”

Steve sighs, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Keep it down, Sam. She’s literally right there.”

Sam sighs too, his tone gentler now. “I’m just saying, Steve, you can still be a good guy and a good friend… while protecting your own heart. I don’t want you to keep waiting around and getting hurt.”

Steve nods slowly, resuming his work in the kitchen. “I know what I’m doing, Sam. Trust me. It’s been years of this. I’ll be fine.”

Sam gives him a skeptical look but just shakes his head, muttering, “Whatever you say, man.” He reaches for a mixing bowl, getting ready to make pancakes. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the smell of pancakes and coffee filling the kitchen.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees you beginning to stir on the couch. You stretch, blinking as you slowly sit up, momentarily disoriented, and your eyes go wide as you remember where you are.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Sam says with a grin, turning around to look at you.

“Oh God…” you murmur, running a hand over your face, slightly embarrassed. Everything from last night rushes back in a blur.

“You okay?” Steve asks, concern in his voice as he sets down the spatula.

“Yeah, just a bit of a headache,” you mumble, wincing slightly.

Without a word, Steve gets up and heads to the bathroom, returning with some Tylenol and a glass of water. You give him a grateful smile as you take them.

Sam grins, shooting you a playful look. “Well, you look like shit.”

“Sam!” Steve yells, half-scolding him, but you just laugh, shaking your head.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, swallowing the Tylenol. “I feel like it, too.”

Steve sits beside you for a moment, watching as you sip the water. Sam looks at you thoughtfully, then says, “You should go take a shower. I bet it’ll help clear your head.”

You nod, biting your lip. “I would… but I don’t exactly have anything to wear.”

Steve immediately jumps up, nodding toward his room. “I’m sure I can find some clothes that’ll work for you. Hold on.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him with a hint of embarrassment.

“Of course,” he says, smiling warmly. “Anything for you.”

He heads down the hall, and you follow, feeling a little lighter with each step. Once in his room, he digs through his dresser and hands you a pair of sweatpants, a soft T-shirt, and a towel. “Use whatever you need in the bathroom,” he says gently, his gaze warm and steady.

As he’s about to turn and leave the room, you stop him. “Stevie?”

He pauses, turning back. “Yeah?”

You give him a small, heartfelt smile. “Thank you. For everything. For always being such a great friend to me.”

Steve’s heart sinks slightly at the word “friend,” the weight of all the things he’s never said pressing down on him. But he musters a smile, nodding. “I’d do anything for you. You know that.”

You give him one last grateful look before heading to the bathroom. Once inside, you close the door and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath as your emotions resurface.

You turn on the shower, feeling the steam rise as you slip out of yesterday’s clothes. The hot water pours over you, soothing your tense muscles as you stand there, letting everything you’ve been holding in pour out.

Your thoughts drift to Bucky, to the fight, to everything that was said, and the words echo painfully in your mind. You wonder if he felt any regret after you left, if he realized how much his words hurt. But then you think about how he’d looked at you, the anger and frustration in his eyes, and your heart twists painfully. It’s a cycle, you realize—a cycle of loving someone who can’t seem to decide if he wants to hold onto you or push you away.

As the water washes over you, you close your eyes, trying to let go of the ache in your chest, but it lingers, a constant reminder of the choice you don’t know how to make.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au

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benispunk · 3 days ago

Text

Lucky Number

logan howlett x reader

Logan wants to know why 12 is Y/N's lucky number. He might be falling in love all over again.

TW: language

Masterlist

\I/

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening. Not because she could finally relax, have some time for herself, enjoy the silence of her room without, most of the time, anyone in the mansion interrupting it… Well, maybe yes, it was that. But that’s not the point.

Y/n’s favorite time of the day was the evening because she could finally spend time with Logan outside of the school’s routine, out of everyone's eye sights, just the two of them against the world.

And this evening wasn’t any different. She absolutely adored those moments with him as he looked and sounded so relaxed, and she felt as if she was falling more and more in love with him every single time.

She had bought a bottle wine and some appetizers that she had hidden in the kitchen all day, just for their special night, and Logan would do the same. Even though their relationship was official to everyone in the mansion, they always felt the need to sneak into each other’s rooms like teenagers in love.

One time, Logan was discreetly walking towards her door with two glasses in hand and his bottle of whiskey under his arm when he heard someone cough at the end of the corridor. He turned around, startled. Scott had been standing there, probably waiting to catch one of the two lovers and embarrass them. Logan stood there, saying nothing before flipping him off and entering Y/N’s room.

She sat curled up on her bed, a glass of red wine in hand, as she lazily picked at a plate of cheese and crackers between sips. Logan sat next to her, leaning against the headboard, holding his own glass of whiskey, his eyes glinting with amusement. He could stay there for days, listening to her talk, laugh, watching her smile. Anything that had to do with her, he needed to be there.

They had been playing a ridiculous card game for the last 20 minutes where you had to pick a number between one and twenty and then pick two cards, the closest to their number wins.

They were laughing again when Logan leaned forward with another challenge, his grin cocky. “Alright, one more time.”

Y/N smiled wide and quickly answered, “Twelve!”

Logan narrowed his eyes at her this time, his smirk softening into something more curious. “Again with twelve?” he asked, amused. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve picked twelve.”

Y/N blinked. “No, it’s not,” she said, a little too defensively, taking a bigger sip of wine. Maybe she should slow down with the drinking part.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Yeah, it is. You even won with that number.” He gave her a knowing look. “And now this. You pickin' twelve on purpose or somethin’? Are you cheating?”

She gasped at the accusation, « How dare you accuse me of such a crime? A girl can’t have a lucky number anymore. » She sipped some more wine dramatically, which made Logan laugh. How much she loved that sound.

Logan’s grin widened as he leaned in a bit closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Lucky number, huh? What makes twelve so special?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and swirling the whiskey in his glass.

Y/N felt her breath catch slightly, the warmth from the wine making her feel just a bit too relaxed. She hadn’t even realized she'd been picking twelve that much. It just... came out. It was her lucky number indeed. And now, Logan was asking about it. Oh no.

She gave a casual shrug, trying to play it off. "Oh, you know… twelve’s just... a good number. Balanced. You know, 1 plus 2 equals 3, and… uh, three’s cool."

Logan tilted his head, staring at her with an amused expression that said he wasn’t buying a word of it. « Then why not pick three? »

She could feel the heat rising to her face even more. He was too perceptive. She tried to shrug again, but it came off awkward. « I—I don’t know! Twelve just feels… lucky, I guess."

But Logan wasn’t letting it go. Of coure, he wasn’t. He leaned in even closer, his voice a low tease. "You’re hiding something." His tone was playful, but his eyes held a tenderness that made her feel even more flustered. "Why twelve, darlin’?"

Y/N's heart raced as she realized there was no escaping the truth. She hadn’t even thought about it consciously until now, but of course, twelve was special. It was his birthday— October 12. And the more she thought about it, the more it embarrassed her. It felt too sweet, too sentimental to admit out loud, but Logan's gaze was gentle, and she knew he wouldn't let up until she told him.

She cleared her throat and bit her lip, looking anywhere but at him. "It's... It’s your birthday. » she finally mumbled, barely above a whisper, still trying to avoid his eyes. "October 12. That’s why it’s... my lucky number."

There was a pause— a silence that stretched just long enough for her to regret saying it, but when she glance up at Logan, she saw something different in his expression. His face softened, his eyes widening just a bit before something warm and quiet settled in them. For a second, he seemed speechless, which rarely happened with Logan.

« My birthday?" he asked, his voice softer than before, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

Y/N nodded, feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed. « Yes. I’m sorry this is so embarrass— »

“Put your glass down,” he said firmly, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“What?” she asked, confusion clouding her expression.

Without missing a beat, Logan took her glass from her hand and placed it gently on the nightstand beside his own. Just as she opened her mouth to protest, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to pause as they melted into each other, the warmth of the moment enveloping them. Every worry, every ounce of embarrassment faded away as Y/N felt herself sink deeper into the kiss, the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his lips mixing with the sweetness of the wine on hers.

Her lucky number was his birthday. How fucking wonderful. What did he even do to deserve that? To deserve her. His grip on her tightened slightly, pulling her closer as if he wanted to fuse their bodies together, to ensure that nothing could ever come between them. How lucky he was.

When they finally broke away, he held her gaze with a softness that made her heart race.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

The moment hung between them. Y/N could see the sincerity in his gaze, the way he was allowing himself to be vulnerable. Her heart ached with love. But he wasn’t done.

His hand cradled her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek. “You keep doin’ this—showin’ me how much I mean to you… » He paused, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, « I’m falling for you all over again,” he confessed, his voice low and raw.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, a smile breaking through her earlier embarrassment. « See why twelve’s my lucky number? »

Logan laughed softly, a glint of mischief in his eyes, before he suddenly lunged forward, pinning her down onto the bed. Y/N squealed in surprise, laughter bubbling up as he captured her lips in a quick kiss. The warmth of his body over hers ignited sparks of electricity that left her breathless.

As they broke apart, he held her gaze, his eyes gleaming with adoration. The warmth between them crackled with unspoken affection, and Y/N felt her heart swell. If he was her lucky charm, she was his too.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, their foreheads touching as they breathed each other in. Logan leaned in for another kiss, this one deeper and more lingering, their lips brushing together softly. The moment was pure magic.

Y/N felt happiness enveloping her, knowing that luck wasn’t just about numbers; it was about sharing her life with him.

XXX

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lvmoure · 2 days ago

Text

ATLANTIS CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x pregnant!reader

Summary: In which he was too late

Warnings: angst, miscarriage

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of your apartment, a golden warmth that felt at odds with the cold knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. You sat at the kitchen table, staring at the small white plastic stick in your hand as if it would suddenly change its mind. The words on it were undeniable, though—bold and clear. You were pregnant.

For a moment, everything felt still, like time had decided to hold its breath along with you. Your heart hammered in your chest, loud enough to echo in your ears, yet the rest of the world seemed so quiet. It felt as if you were trapped between two realities—one where you were the same person you had been just a few days ago and another where this tiny, growing life inside you would change everything.

You knew exactly what this meant. Your mind raced through the tangled maze of questions. What would Carlos think? What would he do? The two of you had never discussed children—not seriously, anyway. Sure, you’d talked about the future in vague terms, but when it came to family, he had always been clear. He wasn't ready, he wasn't sure he wanted them. He was focused on his career, his racing. His life was full of ambition and passion for a world that didn’t leave room for a baby, let alone a family.

But here you were, pregnant.

Your breath hitched as you glanced at the clock. Carlos would be home soon. You had no idea how you were going to tell him. How do you share news like this? The kind of news that could make or break everything you thought you knew about each other? You had hoped the moment would never come, or maybe that you'd be able to convince yourself it was a mistake, that maybe those two lines weren’t as clear as they seemed. But deep down, you knew they were real.

You tried to imagine his reaction. Would he be angry? Would he be scared? Would he think this was something you had planned all along, to trap him into something he didn’t want? The thought sent a chill through you. Carlos wasn't like that. He wasn't someone to dismiss your feelings, but you knew he wouldn’t take kindly to something that disrupted his carefully mapped out future.

His career, his freedom—it was all he had worked for, and now it felt like it was all on the line.

You stared at your reflection in the window, watching your own face morph into one of uncertainty. You didn’t know how to navigate this conversation, how to make him understand. You weren’t ready for this either, but this was reality now. And the hardest part was telling him.

When the door clicked open, Carlos stepped into the apartment, his familiar scent filling the room. You looked up, your stomach tightening as his eyes met yours.

"Hey," he said, setting his helmet and racing gear down in the hallway before walking over to you. His smile was soft, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, not like it usually did. There was something on your face that made him pause. Something was wrong.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice laced with concern, but you could hear the edge of hesitation in it. He knew you too well.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each passing second. "Carlos," you began, your voice unsteady, "there’s something I need to tell you."

His eyes softened as he sat across from you, his hand gently brushing yours. "You’re scaring me, what’s wrong?"

You looked at the pregnancy test again, then back at him, feeling your hands tremble.

"I’m pregnant."

His face fell silent for a long moment. The words hung in the air, their weight crushing you. You watched his eyes search your face as if trying to decipher if you were joking, but you couldn’t find any humor in this moment, no lightness. This wasn’t a joke.

His expression shifted, his lips tightening. His hands hovered over the table, unsure whether to reach out or pull away.

"You’re sure?" His voice was low, almost like he didn’t want to hear the answer.

You nodded, suddenly feeling smaller, as if the space between you two had doubled in size.

"I’m sure," you whispered, the weight of the admission pushing down on your chest. "Carlos, I—"

"Wait," he interrupted, his eyes now narrowing slightly, "are you telling me that you… that we…?" He trailed off, visibly processing what you had said. "But we never—"

"I know," you said quickly, your heart pounding in your ears. "I didn’t expect this either, but it’s real."

A heavy silence fell between you, and Carlos sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, the tension in his posture growing with every passing second.

"How are we supposed to—" He broke off, his voice suddenly sharp. "You know I’m not ready for this. You know that."

You flinched at the words, though they weren’t said cruelly. He was upset, overwhelmed even. But they cut deep.

"Do you think I’m ready for this?" you asked softly, your voice shaking. "Carlos, I didn’t plan this. But this is happening. And I need you to—"

"I can’t," he cut you off, his tone now more forceful. "I can’t just drop everything for this. I have my career, my goals. I can’t throw all of that away now."

Your heart shattered, the weight of his words crashing down on you. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. The fear, the hurt—it all bubbled up in an overwhelming rush. "Carlos, this isn’t about you throwing everything away. It’s about us figuring this out together. I’m not asking you to throw everything away. I’m asking for your support."

But he shook his head, his jaw tight. "I don’t know if I can give that to you."

The room seemed to close in on you. Your breath was shallow, each word he spoke pressing harder against your chest. "So, what? You’re just going to walk away? You’re going to ignore everything we’ve built because of one mistake?"

"It’s not a mistake," he snapped. "But it is something I wasn’t prepared for. And I don’t think I can be."

The pain in your chest turned into something darker, deeper. The reality of the situation was settling in, and it was suffocating you. You stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back. "I never wanted this to be a fight," you whispered. "I just wanted you to understand."

Carlos stood too, his face a mix of frustration and regret. "I need time to think, okay?" His words were softer now, almost a plea for space. But it wasn’t the space you wanted.

"Time?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. "How much time do you need to decide if we’re going to have a child? How much time do you need to decide if we’re going to have a future?"

Without another word, Carlos turned and walked away, leaving you in the suffocating silence of the apartment. The stillness that followed was deafening, and all you could do was sit there, your hand still clutching the test, the reality of it all crashing down around you.

Carlos’ hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than he realized as he drove away from the apartment. The tires of the car hummed on the asphalt, the road stretching endlessly before him, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess. His breath was ragged, his chest tight with confusion. The words you’d said, the look in your eyes, the way you held the pregnancy test as if it were both a lifeline and a curse—everything had blurred together into a painful knot in his stomach.

He had asked for time, needed it—desperately. Time to breathe, time to think. But the truth was, Carlos didn’t know what to think. His mind kept spiraling, trying to reason his way through something that felt so far beyond logic.

He loved you, that much was certain. But that love had never once been tied to thoughts of starting a family, to the idea of being a father. He wasn’t ready for that. He had spent his life working towards something that didn’t leave room for the responsibilities of parenthood.

But then, he saw the look on your face. He could still feel the hurt in your voice, the way you tried to explain that this wasn’t something you wanted either, but it was real. And now, he had to figure out how to navigate this.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Carlos parked his car in front of his father's house. The familiar warmth of the home did little to ease the tension that had built up inside him. He didn’t want to admit it, but he felt lost. He needed someone who could help him make sense of all this.

Carlos had always been close to his father, Carlos Sainz Sr. A man who had seen both triumphs and defeats in the world of motorsport. He knew what it was like to struggle, to fight for something you believed in, but he also knew what it meant to be a man of integrity, to face your responsibilities head-on. It was that kind of wisdom Carlos needed now.

He didn’t knock. His father’s house was always open to him, no matter what time of day it was. Carlos let himself in, finding his father in the kitchen, preparing a cup of coffee.

"Hey, Papa," Carlos said, his voice a bit hoarse as he leaned against the doorway.

Carlos Sainz Sr. looked up from his cup, his expression unreadable at first. But then, he saw the look in his son’s eyes. The kind of look that spoke volumes about a thousand unsaid things.

"Hijo, what’s wrong?" his father asked, setting the coffee down and gesturing for Carlos to sit.

Carlos hesitated for a moment before making his way to the table. He slumped into the chair across from his father, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I don’t know what to do, Papa," he admitted, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "I… I just found out that I’m going to be a father."

Carlos Sr. didn’t react immediately, but his eyes softened, and he took a deep breath, as though weighing his words carefully. "A father," he repeated, the weight of the word hanging in the air. "And you don’t know what to do?"

Carlos shook his head. "I never wanted this. I mean… I never planned for it. You know how I’ve always felt about kids, about having a family. I was never ready for that. I don’t know how to be a father, how to be the kind of man who can balance everything. I don’t want to let go of everything I’ve worked for. My career, my life—it all feels so out of control now."

His father sat back, folding his arms across his chest as he observed his son. The lines on Carlos Sr.’s face seemed deeper than usual, as if he had seen this moment coming from a distance.

"I understand. I understand more than you know," Carlos Sr. said quietly. "But sometimes, life has a way of throwing us challenges when we least expect it. You think you’ve got everything planned, and then something happens that changes everything. And that’s not always a bad thing. You’re scared because you feel like you’re losing control, but maybe what you’re really scared of is letting go of the idea that you can do it all on your own."

Carlos ran a hand through his hair again, frustration mixing with confusion. "I’m not ready to be a father, Papa. I’m just… not."

Carlos Sr. sighed deeply, his gaze steady and filled with a depth of understanding that only comes from years of experience. He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but firm.

"I wasn’t ready either, Carlos," he said, and his words hit harder than Carlos expected. "When your mother told me she was pregnant with your older sister, I didn’t know how to feel. I was scared. I wasn’t sure if I could do it. I didn’t know if I could balance my career with being a father. But one thing I did know was that it wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about us—your mother and I, and the life we were going to build. And there was nothing more important than that."

Carlos Sr. paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words sink in before continuing.

"You see, when you’re faced with something like this, you have two choices. You can run away from it, avoid it, pretend it’s not happening. Or you can face it. You can stand up and accept it for what it is, and figure out how to make it work. Because when you become a father, it’s not about you anymore. It’s about the life you’re bringing into this world, and the kind of person you want to be for them."

Carlos felt a lump form in his throat as he absorbed his father’s words. His chest tightened, the reality of what his father was saying hitting him like a wave. He had always been focused on his career, on his goals, on the life he had chosen. But now, it felt like that life was being torn apart by something so much bigger than himself.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Papa," Carlos admitted, his voice faltering.

Carlos Sr. stood up, walking over to the window and looking out at the garden. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, tinged with the wisdom of years of experience.

"You’re not alone, Carlos. You don’t have to figure this out on your own. You have people who love you, who want to support you. You have her—" He gestured toward the door, toward the life Carlos had just walked away from. "She’s in this with you. And you need to talk to her. You need to listen, because she’s not asking you to fix everything. She’s asking you to be there."

Carlos closed his eyes, the weight of his father’s words settling over him like a heavy blanket. He had been so caught up in his own fears, his own insecurities, that he hadn’t even considered what you must have been feeling. He hadn’t thought about the fact that you were in this together, that this wasn’t just his problem to solve. It was yours—yours to face, to share, to overcome.

"She’s scared, Carlos," his father continued. "She’s scared, and she needs you. Not the man who thinks he has all the answers, but the man who’s willing to show up, even when he doesn’t. She needs you to be there, to support her through this. That’s what it means to be a man. To stand by the people you love, even when it’s hard. Even when you don’t know how."

Carlos Sr. turned around to face him, his eyes meeting his son’s with a quiet intensity.

"You have a choice, Carlos. You can choose to run, to stay in the safety of the life you’ve built for yourself. Or you can choose to be a father, to take responsibility for the life you’re creating. The choice is yours. But don’t wait too long to make it. Because sometimes, the biggest mistake we can make is not realizing what we have until it’s too late."

Carlos sat in silence, the weight of his father’s words sinking deep into his soul. For the first time since he had walked out of your apartment, he felt a shift inside him—a slow, dawning realization that he could no longer keep running from this.

He had to go back. He had to face you.

Carlos’ heart raced as he drove back toward the apartment. His father’s words had cut deeper than he expected, like a scalpel carving into something raw, something fragile. The weight of his choices pressed heavily on his chest. The fear, the uncertainty—it was all still there, but his father’s wisdom had ignited something inside him, a spark of understanding he had been too afraid to acknowledge before.

He had left. Walked away when you needed him the most. And now he had to fix it. He had to go back and be the man he promised he would be—someone you could depend on, someone who would fight for you. But more than that, someone who would fight for the life growing inside of you.

Carlos gripped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with the effort. He couldn’t shake the images of your face—the hurt in your eyes, the way you had begged him to understand. And he hadn’t. He had run.

When he pulled into the parking lot of your building, everything seemed so still. The world outside was unaware of the storm that had been brewing between the two of you, but it felt like the universe itself was holding its breath. He parked the car with a sense of finality, as if this moment would mark the beginning of something new—or the end of everything.

He got out of the car, walking toward the entrance with slow, deliberate steps. His mind raced with a thousand things to say, but none of them seemed to be enough. What could he possibly say to fix this? How could he explain the confusion, the fear, the selfishness that had led him to walk away from you when you needed him most?

The door to the apartment creaked open with a quiet sound that felt impossibly loud in the silence of the hallway. Carlos stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, searching for you. But the apartment was eerily quiet. He called your name softly at first, unsure if you were even home, but the emptiness in the air told him something was wrong.

"Y/N?" His voice trembled slightly as he stepped further into the apartment. "Are you here?"

There was no answer.

He walked through the living room and into the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. As he pushed it open, the sight that met him took the breath from his lungs.

You were lying on the bed, unmoving. The room was dim, the curtains pulled tightly shut to block out the light. But what caught his attention wasn’t the stillness—it was the absence of the warmth that had once filled this space. The energy that had defined your relationship was gone, replaced with a cold, suffocating silence. You weren’t sleeping. You weren’t pretending everything was okay.

Your face was pale, your eyes closed, but your expression... it wasn’t peaceful. It was hollow, distant, as if you had already begun to retreat into a place where Carlos could no longer reach you.

His breath caught in his throat as he approached the bed, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Y/N?" he said again, his voice breaking this time. "Please, look at me."

You didn’t stir. His heart twisted in his chest, a feeling of dread settling deep in his bones. There was something in the air—a heaviness that he couldn’t shake. Slowly, cautiously, Carlos sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch your hand. It was cold, lifeless, a stark contrast to the warmth he had once known so well.

"Y/N, what’s going on?" he whispered, his voice full of pain and regret. He could feel the tears threatening to spill, but he held them back, not knowing if he even deserved the release.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you opened your eyes, though they seemed distant—no longer the eyes that had once been full of life and love. You looked at him, but it was as if you were seeing someone else entirely. Someone he didn’t recognize.

"Y/N, please," Carlos whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’m so sorry. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. But I’m here now. I’m here. I’ll do whatever it takes."

You blinked, your lips parting to speak, but the words never came. Instead, there was only the faintest trace of something in your eyes. Something he couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Was it sorrow? Or something deeper—something he had failed to see in his own selfishness?

"Y/N," Carlos said again, his voice cracking this time. "Please... talk to me."

But still, you didn’t respond.

It was then that Carlos noticed something else. There, on the bed, beside you, was the faint trace of something—a small stain, barely noticeable, but undeniable. A knot formed in his stomach, and his hands began to tremble as realization began to sink in. His breath hitched, and his throat felt tight as he turned back to you, finally understanding.

"No," he breathed, his voice shaking. "No, please."

Your eyes fluttered slightly, and for a moment, Carlos thought you were going to speak. But then your gaze drifted downward, to the small band of blood that had soaked through the sheets. It was then that he realized—the child, the life that had been growing inside you, was no longer there.

"You lost it," Carlos whispered, the words coming out barely louder than a breath. His heart shattered at the realization, and a wave of guilt washed over him so strong he could hardly breathe. He had walked away. He had been so focused on his own fears, his own uncertainties, that he hadn’t seen the weight of what was happening to you.

He reached for your hand again, but this time, you pulled away. You looked at him then, and it wasn’t anger or sorrow in your eyes—it was something far worse.

"You don’t get to come back now," you said, your voice quiet, but firm. "You left when I needed you the most, Carlos. You can’t just come back and pretend everything will be okay."

Carlos felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs. He had no words to respond to that. How could he? How could he explain that the fear of fatherhood had been so overwhelming that he had allowed it to dictate his actions, even if it meant losing you—losing everything?

"You’re right," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t get to just come back. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll be here for you—for us. I should’ve been here before, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t."

But your eyes were still distant, and Carlos knew that the damage had been done. The distance between you had grown too wide, too deep to bridge in a single moment.

"I can’t do this anymore," you whispered. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out what you want. I can’t keep fighting for something that you’re not ready for. I thought I could do it on my own, but now... now I don’t even know who I am anymore."

Carlos felt his heart break in ways he didn’t even know were possible. The weight of what he had lost hit him with the force of a wrecking ball. You weren’t just angry with him. You were hurt. You had been betrayed, and the loss of the child—their future—was something he could never undo.

"I’ll stay with you," Carlos said quietly, his voice breaking. "I don’t care if we’re too late. We’ll figure it out. I’m here now. But please, don’t shut me out. Please."

You closed your eyes, tears sliding down your face. "It’s too late, Carlos."

And just like that, the silence between you two became unbearable, suffocating. It wasn’t just the loss of the child. It was the loss of everything that had once been. The future you had dreamed of together. The family. The love. All of it seemed to have vanished, leaving only a hollow ache where something beautiful had once been.

Carlos didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make it right. All he knew was that he had failed. He had failed you, and in doing so, he had failed himself.

Carlos sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space beside him. His body felt numb, as though every part of him had been drained of energy, of life, of everything he thought he knew about the world. He had come back, had finally understood what he needed to do, but it had been too late.

He could still hear your words echoing in his mind, the quiet but firm dismissal that had shattered the fragile hope he had clung to. "I can’t keep waiting for you to figure out what you want," you had said, your voice filled with something far more painful than anger. It had been sorrow, the kind of sorrow that ran deeper than any argument, deeper than any misunderstanding. It had been the kind of sorrow that came from realizing that love, no matter how much you wanted it to, couldn’t heal everything.

The child was gone. You had lost it. The pregnancy was no longer a promise, no longer the future you had thought you were building together. And now, there was only silence.

Carlos closed his eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming weight that pressed on his chest. He had failed you, failed the life that had barely begun, and failed himself. He had walked away when he should have been there, when he should have listened instead of running. He had been afraid, too afraid to face the responsibility that was already his—one that could have been a gift if he had only chosen to embrace it. But now, it was too late.

The apartment felt suffocating. The walls seemed to close in around him as he stood up from the bed, pacing aimlessly across the room. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more agonizing than the last. He couldn’t undo the past, couldn’t take back the moments he had spent trying to avoid the reality of what had been unfolding right in front of him. The child, the future, the love—it was all gone.

Carlos ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the storm inside him. He had been so focused on himself, on his own fears, on his own insecurities, that he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him. He hadn’t realized that the most important thing in his life wasn’t his career or his accomplishments. It was you. And he had lost you.

The thought hit him like a physical blow, a punch to the gut that left him breathless. He had lost you, and in doing so, he had lost everything that had ever truly mattered.

A soft knock on the door broke through the haze of his thoughts, and for a moment, Carlos didn’t know if he should answer. He didn’t know if he was ready to face anyone, especially after everything that had happened. But then, he heard his father’s voice on the other side of the door.

"Carlos? It’s me."

Carlos felt his stomach tighten at the sound of his father’s voice. He hadn’t even noticed that his father had followed him back to the apartment. It was a small mercy, one that Carlos hadn’t even realized he needed, but now, standing at the door, he knew it was the only thing that could help him navigate the overwhelming pain and regret.

"Come in," Carlos said, his voice rough.

The door creaked open, and Carlos’ father stepped inside. His presence was calming, steady, like a rock amidst a storm. Carlos didn’t look up at first, too consumed by his own guilt, but he felt the weight of his father’s gaze upon him, steady and unwavering.

Carlos Sr. said nothing at first, just walked over to the small couch in the corner and sat down. He folded his hands in his lap and waited. It was a silence that spoke volumes, one that gave Carlos the space he needed to gather his thoughts, even as they remained tangled and chaotic.

Finally, Carlos spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I failed her, Papa."

Carlos Sr. didn’t respond immediately, but the quiet understanding in his eyes told Carlos that his father already knew the depth of his pain. After a long pause, Carlos Sr. finally spoke.

"Hijo, you didn’t fail her," he said quietly. "You failed yourself. And in doing so, you failed to see what was right in front of you."

Carlos swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing bigger with each word his father spoke. He had failed himself, that much was true. His own fear, his own inability to face the future had clouded his judgment, clouded everything. And now, all he had left was this empty apartment, the silence between them, and the memory of a life that was never meant to be.

"I didn’t want this," Carlos said, his voice raw with emotion. "I wasn’t ready. I thought I could keep going, keep doing what I was doing. I thought if I just kept pushing everything away, it would go away. But it didn’t. And now… now she’s gone."

Carlos Sr. leaned forward, his gaze steady, but his voice gentle. "She’s not gone, Carlos. She’s hurt. She’s disappointed, yes. But she’s not gone. Not unless you let her be."

Carlos let out a bitter laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. "I let her down, Papa. I walked away when she needed me most. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t—"

"Stop," Carlos Sr. interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. "You’re wrong. You couldn’t handle it because you didn’t let yourself. You were so caught up in your own fear that you couldn’t see what was really happening. And now, you have to fix that. You have to go to her, Carlos. You have to show her that you can be the man she needs you to be."

Carlos’s heart pounded in his chest. His father’s words were like a call to action, but he didn’t know if he could follow through. Could he really fix this? Could he undo the damage he had done? Was it even possible?

"I don’t know if she’ll forgive me," Carlos said, his voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know if I deserve it."

"You don’t deserve forgiveness, Carlos," his father said quietly. "But you can earn it. And you start by showing up. You start by being there, by taking responsibility for what you did. It’s not about what you deserve—it’s about what you’re willing to do to make things right."

Carlos’s father stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him in that moment.

"You’re going to make mistakes, son," Carlos Sr. continued. "You’re going to mess up. But the measure of a man is not in his ability to avoid mistakes—it’s in how he handles them when they happen. It’s about owning up to them, learning from them, and doing everything in his power to make things better. That’s how you move forward. That’s how you become the man you’re meant to be."

Carlos felt tears well up in his eyes, a mix of relief and sorrow that he hadn’t expected. His father’s words, simple yet profound, broke through the fog of his confusion, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Carlos felt the smallest glimmer of hope.

"Go to her," Carlos Sr. said quietly, giving his son a final, meaningful look. "You’re not alone in this. But you can’t fix it by running away."

Carlos nodded, his throat tight. He wasn’t sure if he was ready. He wasn’t sure if you would even want to see him after everything that had happened. But he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t stay here, wallowing in his own regret. He had to go to you. He had to show you that he could be the man you needed, that he could be the father he had never thought he could be.

He stood up, his legs shaky beneath him, and walked toward the door. His father’s voice echoed in his mind, steady and unwavering. He wasn’t alone in this. He had to believe that.

As he stepped outside, the cool air hit him like a slap to the face, but it didn’t matter. He was moving forward now. He wasn’t going to let fear control him anymore.

He was going to fight for you.

And this time, he wasn’t going to run.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #f1

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kamiversee · 13 hours ago

Text

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy.

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything.

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on.

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you.

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone.

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume.

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.”

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.”

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there.

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath.

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him.

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to.

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment.

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again.

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be.

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music).

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca.

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing.

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nastybuckybarnes · 14 hours ago

Text

Rat in the Mouse Cage

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Summary: There's a rat on base, and all evidence seems to be pointing to you.

Warnings: lowkey mean!soap, angst, language, angst, ptsd, angry!ghost, more of mouse's backstory??,

Word Count: 5.5K

A/n: here it is, the angsty one. I had SO much fun writing this and I reaaalllly hope you guys enjoy! The next few parts are in progress but you should see them soon!

~*~

Soap opens the door to the boardroom, a room you've never been in before, and you follow him when he motions you into the room.

Captain Price is seated at the table, his eyes focused on a file in his hands.

The air is tense, and you're immediately on edge.

"Have a seat," Soap says, his voice hard.

You comply, sitting across from Price anxiously.

"Is... everything okay?" You finally ask, looking between the two men.

Price sighs and sets his paper down, finally lifting his gaze to yours.

"No. Everything's not okay."

You feel dizzy with how quickly the blood leaves your face.

"Ghost... is okay?" You ask after a long moment, squeezing your hands together as you prepare yourself for the worst.

"Yes, Ghost is fine."

You frown, glancing around.

"Where is he?"

Price and Soap exchange glances, the latter standing at the closed door with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

You've never seen him look so... angry before.

"Listen, I'm gonna give you this one chance to come clean. Don't make this any harder for yourself than it already is," Price warns softly.

"Who do you work for?"

The question catches you off guard, and you cock your head to the side.

"I... I don't work."

Price scrubs a hand over his face, the language barrier only adding to his anger.

He glances over at Soap, and the Sergeant takes that as his cue to clarify.

"We know you've been sellin' information. We need to know exactly who it is you work for. Who your buyer is."

Your mouth drops open in shock at the accusation, but he's speaking again before you have a chance to defend yourself.

"We've already caught you, so don' bother tryna lie your way outta this."

You shake your head so hard you make yourself dizzy.

"No, no! Not me! I-I don't talk to anyone! I don't give any information, I have no money I don't sell anything! Where is Ghost?" If Ghost is here, he'll listen. He can help you. He'll trust you.

You just need Simon.

"He's not here," Soap says coldly.

"I want Ghost, please!" You all but cry.

"Well he doesn't want you!" Soap shouts, slamming his hands on the table. "No one wants a filthy rat!"

The words are spat with enough malice to cut you deeper than a knife ever has.

"Ghost already knows the truth. Had to keep him away or he'd kill ya before we get answers."

The two men watch as Soap's words have the desired effect, your shoulders slumping forward and tears welling up in your eyes.

It hurts them to have to do this, to have to hurt you. You seemed so sweet, so innocent. But if it's what protects the team, so be it.

"I'm gonna ask you one more time," Price says, "Who do you work for?"

You bring your teary eyes to his and shake your head once again.

"I don't work. I don't sell anything and I am not rat."

You're innocent, and this is a hill you'll die on if you have to.

Price heaves out a heavy sigh then nods at Soap.

He walks around the table to you, ignoring the way you shake your head and try to rise up out of your seat to get away from him.

You raise your hands in surrender when he reaches you, not fighting him as he zip-ties your wrists together in front of you.

"Please, I just want Ghost, please," you beg tearfully, trying your hardest to hold back sobs as he marches you out of the room.

Soap says nothing, only leads you down a hallway that you've never seen before.

"Wh-where do you take me?"

He stops outside of an elevator, hand firmly holding your bicep as he waits for it to arrive.

"Holding cells. A cage fit for a rat like you."

Cage. Another cage.

You can feel yourself start to hyperventilate.

You can't go back in a cage. You won't.

The elevator doors open and he pushes you inside, following after and quickly pressing the button marked 'B'.

You stare at the back of his head as the doors close.

"I didn't do it," you whisper once again, your voice soft and full of tears.

Soap swallows his feelings, the regret carving a hole in his heart.

He truly thought you were good, that he knew you, could trust you.

He can only imagine how angry Ghost will be when he finds out who he's been sharing his bed with.

"You may have Ghost fooled, but I can't deny the facts, and they all point to you," he says stiffly.

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as the elevator walls begin to close in on you.

You can't go back in a cage. You can't. It took you forever to break out of the first one, the one you called home. Now, you've found something good. A real home, a family.

Only for them to turn on you.

Before you're fully aware of what you're doing, you sweep Soap's feet out from under him. You then straddle his waist and knock your fist against his head, wincing when his head rocks back against the ground with a dull 'thud'.

It hurts you to hurt him, but you don't have time to dwell on that.

Instead, you rise to your feet and hit the STOP button, then grab his knife from his belt and slice your wrists free.

Tears cloud your vision as anxiety eats you, and you scrub your hands over your hair. You throw your head back as you struggle to breathe, only for your escape route to hit you right in the face.

Glancing between Soap's unconscious body and the roof opanels, you cringe internally at what you're about to do.

It takes a lot more effort than you thought it would to hunch him over where you need him to be, and then you're stepping carefully on his back and pushing the ceiling tiles aside.

You climb up and out, crouching on top of the elevator for a long moment as you try to figure out your next steps.

~*~

"Simon, a word," Captain Price says, intercepting the man as he returns to base.

Ghost tenses slightly, but falls into a step beside his superior.

"I wanted you to hear it from me first. We've taken your little mouse into custody for now. Soap brought her downstairs for detainment while we investigate further. All our intel shows that she's our rat."

His head snaps to his Captain and he stops walking.

"What are you talking about?"

Price sighs and extends a file for Ghost to read, but the man only stares down at it.

"I know how heavily you're... involved with her, which is why I wanted to be the one to tell you."

"Let me talk to her."

Price doesn't get to give him an answer, he's already marching toward the elevator.

"Simon, this isn't up for debate. She's guilty, and she'll be punished for what she's done. That's the way of the world, son. I hate that you got your feelings wrapped up in this, but-"

"We need to explore all other options before we continue with this. How could she be the rat? She never leaves my quarters unless she's accompanied by Soap or Gaz."

"That you're aware of," Price corrects, coming to a halt beside the man as he waits for the elevator.

"You can't be on this, Simon. You wanna talk to her, you can this once, but after that this is out of your hands. You're too involved."

Simon grinds his teeth together but remains silent.

He just needs to talk to you, that's all. Somehow, he'll prove you're innocent, and this will all be dealt with.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator doors open, and Simon's heart drops into his feet.

"Soap!"

Price is at the man's side in an instant, helping him into a seated position and checking his pulse.

His hard gaze turns to the Lieutenant.

No words are spoken. They don’t need to be. Simon knows exactly what’s going through the man’s head.

If you’re innocent, why run?

While Price checks on Soap, Simon steps into the elevator, looking up to where the tiles have been moved.

Your escape route, no doubt.

Through there, he's sure you've found a way out through the vents or into the ceiling, but either way he knows you're probably long gone. Lost now somewhere in the hidden areas of the base.

Rather than dwell on that, he's quick to help his Captain bring Soap to the medical wing, silent the entire time.

He knows you're not the rat. Deep in every fibre of his being, he knows. He can feel it in his bones. But his gut feelings aren't enough to sway his Captain.

"I want her found and I want it done quick. We keep this under wraps, no one is to know she's on the loose. The last thing we need is anyone in a panic."

"Let me just talk to her. She'll listen," he tries.

Price shakes his head, "what part of 'you can't be on this' do you not understand? You're dismissed, and if I catch you trying to involve yourself, I'm gonna hafta take it above my head," he threatens.

Ghost says nothing, only grinds his teeth together, turns on his heel, and marches out of the medical wing.

He's not sure where to go, spends a good amount of time pacing angrily through the halls as he tries to figure this out, folder from Price held tightly in his hands.

He hasn't read it yet, he can't.

Though he knows it's not you, he can't shake the fear, the ill feeling gripping his spine at the idea of you being capable of something like that.

Eventually, he discards the file on the desk in his office then heads up to the roof to smoke a pack or two.

He doesn't feel your presence until his third cigarette.

Trying to stay nonchalant, he takes another drag.

"I know you're here," he finally says, blowing out the smoke and looking down at the ground.

His mask is pushed up around his nose, and he doesn't bother adjusting it.

"I'm not going to tell them where you are or... bring you to them. I just... I just want to make sure you're okay. Please."

You stand in the shadows, eyes on his back as you weigh his words carefully before slowly stepping forward.

He turns to you, his heart breaking when he sees your puffy tear-stained face.

"Why do you want me to be okay? Why see me?" You ask, your voice hoarse from all the crying.

His brows pull together and he longs to reach for you.

"Why wouldn't I? All I've ever wanted is for you to be okay."

Your bottom lip wobbles and you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest as he steps toward you.

"Soap told me... what you really think," you begin, "that you... you don't want to see me. You-you think I'm rat, too."

"He's lying." He says the words immediately, without a moment of hesitation or a shred of doubt.

You glare up at him, taking a half-step back when he reaches for you.

"I'm not going in cage."

"I know." He takes another step forward.

"I didn't do it." You take another step back.

"I know."

"I didn't do it and they-they don't believe me. I save Soap's life! I do everything I can to help! To be good, and they don't believe me! Why don't they believe me?!" Your eyes blur with unshed tears and you suck in a hiccuping breath.

"I don't know," Ghost whispers.

His heart aches for you and he feels anger simmer deep within him at the lies spewed in a pathetic attempt at drawing a confession from you.

"They tell me you will kill me," you whisper, shaking your head as tears slip down your cheeks.

"I could never, Mouse." He takes another step forward, and he's almost close enough to touch you.

"If I don't go with them... they don't trust me. But if I do go with them... they still don't trust me. I am in cage... or they kill me."

Finally, he reaches forward, tilting your chin up and forcing you to look at him.

"I won't let that happen," his voice is harder now. "I won't let any of them touch you."

Your breathing gets quick again and he holds your hand, squeezing tightly.

"Breathe with me," he whispers.

You obey, following his breaths and successfully calming yourself down.

He nods, satisfied, then gently takes hold of your wrists, inspecting the angry red marks left by the zip-tie.

His eyes lift back up to yours and it's like you're seeing him for the first time that night.

"I didn't do it, Simon. Please, I didn't."

His eyes soften and he nods, cupping your cheek softly.

"I know, love. I believe you."

You finally nod, exhaling heavily as if a weight is lifted off of your chest.

He believes you. You knew he would. You knew you could trust him.

"But someone else did, and now they're trying to frame you for it."

It takes a minute for his words to process in your brain, but when they do you're frowning up at him.

"Why me? Who... who would do that?" What kind of horrible monster would do something like this?

"I don't know, little one. But I'll fix this. I just need you to trust me."

You blink your wet eyes a few times at him.

"How will you fix?"

"Just trust me." That's easy enough. You've been doing it since the moment you met him, and you have no intention of stopping anytime soon.

"What do I do?"

He pushes your hair away from your face and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You relax instantly, melting into his arms and snuggling your head against his chest.

He rests his chin atop your head and sighs heavily.

"Just give me time, Mouse, I promise. I won't let them touch you."

Your hands ball his shirt into your fists.

"Where do I go?"

He sighs one more time and closes his eyes, trying to figure that out as well.

Eventually, he settles on telling you the truth.

"I don't know."

~*~

His fist is knocking on Price's office door later that evening.

"Come in."

He's inside the office before the words are fully out of his Captain's mouth.

"I know you said not to get involved," he begins, holding back an eye-roll when Price sighs.

"Simon," he warns.

"And if you tell me one more time then fine, I won't get involved on your side of this," he continues as if Price hasn't said a word, "but there's a rat here, and you need all the help you can get if you wanna flush them out."

Price rubs his forehead and squeezes his eyes shut.

"We already know who the rat is."

"No, you think you know who the rat is," Simon argues.

"All the evidence points to your mouse. Are we supposed to deny the facts because she warms your bed at night?" He snaps, growing tired of this.

"The facts are that you didn't even properly talk to her. You cornered her, ambushed her, threw vile accusations and lies at her to try and get some fake confession from her, and you're surprised that she ran. Those are the facts."

Price leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, you've talked to her."

Simon places his hands on the desk, leaning forward.

"Let me help."

Price shakes his head, "nothing comes between me and my team."

"Then let me help and nothing will."

Price's thick brows raise.

"Are you threatening me, Lieutenant?"

Silence hangs long and heavy between the two of them and neither man makes an effort to break it for a good few minutes.

Finally, Price speaks.

"The safety of my team comes first before anything else."

Simon nods slowly and straightens back up.

"If that's the case, then it's in the best interests of everyone involved if you let me find the rat. The real rat. Because I'm not lettin' a single one of you touch a hair on her fuckin' head."

It's quiet again for a few minutes, but this time Simon is the one who speaks.

"Three days," he says quietly. "That's all I need."

Price looks at him warily for a long while before huffing out a sigh and shaking his head.

"If you don't have the rat in front of me in three days, regardless of who it is, I'm gonna gas the building with your Mouse hiding in it. Best way to flush out a rat."

Simon grinds his teeth together but nods his understanding, turning on his heel and marching out of the office.

He doesn't go far, only down the hall to his own office where the folder lies.

He plops down in his chair and flips it open, ready to pour over every word until he finds something to work with.

He's only reading for about half an hour before he hears it, soft creaking coming from the ceiling above him.

He knows it's you, but before he can say anything, theres a knock on his office door.

"Come," he barks, tossing he file back on his desk as Soap pushes the door open.

Simon's eyes narrow at the man, the lies he spewed still tumbling around in his brain.

"Heard you visited Price... and you've met with yer Mouse," the mohawked man says, his eyes scanning the room.

"She's not in here."

Soap's eyes snap to Ghost's, the latter leaning back in his chair.

"How's your head?"

Soap nods, looking down for a moment.

"M'not concussed, wasn't her hit that got me, it was the bounce against the floor."

Ghost only shrugs, "can't say you didn't deserve it."

Sighing, Soap leans against the doorframe.

"Are we really gonna do this, Lt?"

"You're the one standing in my office, Sergeant," he counters, crossing his arms over his chest.

They're quiet for a moment, and he knows Soap is going to speak his mind.

"Everything points to her. S'only reasonable."

"And that's reason enough to lie? To spew nothin' but bullshit through your teeth? To scare her? You were tryna get her to confess to something she didn't do to make things easier for you."

Soap steps into the office, his own anger rising.

"That's not true. I tried to do my job. You find out there's a rat, you see the pile of evidence, and any rational person would follow the trail. S'not my fault you're shaggin' the broad 'n now you can' think for your bloody self."

Ghost is on his feet before the man is finished speaking, stalking toward him.

"That's enough, MacTavish," He growls, glaring down at the man.

"You're dismissed. Get outta my office."

Clenching his jaw, Soap turns and leaves without another word.

Sighing, Ghost sits back down and puts his face in his hands.

He knew his teammates had their doubts, but he never realized how deep that distrust went.

After a moment, Simon glances up at the vent in his office where he knows you sat listening to the entire exchange.

"I'll fix this, Mouse. I promise," he whispers.

Flipping the folder open again, he pours himself back into it, reading over everything. Every name, every date, every location, and every piece of information that got leaked.

Finally, after what feels like hours, he finds a comonality other than you.

"Mouse? You still with me? Knock once for yes, twice for no."

He listens patiently, and eventually, you knock once on the vent.

"Perfect. Now, I want you to follow the sound of my feet, okay? We're leaving my office."

Again, one knock greets him.

He rises from his desk and leaves his office, walking slowly and making just enough noise for you to be able to follow him from your place in the ceiling.

He leads you this way and that, finally coming to a halt in a utility closet.

Pushing the ceiling tiles out of the way, he climbs up on a few boxes and sticks his head into the ceiling, his heart easing when he catches sight of you again.

"You okay?"

You nod, crawling toward him.

"Come down here."

You obey, slowly climbing out of the hole in the ceiling and gasping when his strong arms wrap around you.

He holds you in an embrace far longer than he normally does, then tilts your chin up and presses a firm kiss to your lips.

"I think I've figured it out, little one. But I need something from you in order to prove it."

You nod eagerly, desperate to clear your name.

He sighs and nods once, then opens the door to the utility closet, looking both ways to make sure no one's around before motioning for you to follow him.

You do, staying only a half-step behind him as he leads you through a door and into a stairwell.

"This way."

You follow closely behind him as he leads you down a flight of stairs, looking around as much as you can as you try to figure out what his plan is, where he's taking you.

Finally, he leads you down another hallway and stops just outside of a door.

He looks at you, his eyes suddenly serious, far more serious than you've ever seen them, and you can't help the nervousness that chews at you.

You pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly as he places a hand on your cheek, cupping it gently.

"'M'gonna ask you to do somethin'... somethin' that I know you're not gonna wanna do. But I just... I need you to trust me on this, okay?"

Your brows pull together at his words.

"Okay..."

"Do you trust me?" He asks his free hand on the door handle.

He doesn't open it. He needs you to confirm out loud to him and to yourself before he opens the door.

You nod, looking between him and the door anxiously.

He grips your chin more firmly and forces your eyes to stay on his.

"I need you to look at me when you say it. Do you trust me?"

Your stomach flips and you need to wet your lips before speaking. Your skin crawls at this, at the intensity of his gaze, the unknown behind the door.

"I do. I trust you," you finally confirm.

He lets out an audible breath of relief, and then he's pushing open the door and your heart is falling into your stomach.

Immediately, you shake your head and take a step back, only for him to catch you and halt you in your tracks.

"No."

Simons sighs, tugging you forward gently. "Mouse, please."

You shake your head more firmly this time.

"No," you repeat, "I-I can't. I won't. No more cage."

Simon looks over to the holding cells with a heavy heart, then pulls his eyes back to yours.

"I know. But this... this is the only way. You need to trust me."

You yank free from his grip and take a step away from him as tears cloud your vision.

"I-I didn't do it. Why do you bring me here?"

You look at the cells then back to his eyes and shake your head once more. You thought you could trust him. You thought he trusted you.

"Please, Simon..."

He reaches for you, tries to pull you into an embrace, only for you to step away once more.

Where you'll go, you have no idea. You just know that you can't... you won't go back in a cage.

"Mouse, I promise you. Three days is all I need. And then I'll come let you out and you'll never have to look at this place again. I swear it."

"No."

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He doesn't want to do this to you. If he could prove your innocence without this, he would. But he knows his team, his captain. He knows what it'll take to get the truth out.

"If we don't do this, they're gonna gas the building with you inside, and you'll die."

Your fiery gaze finally returns to his and for a moment he wishes it didn't.

"I'd rather die than go back in cage."

His heart cracks in his chest.

"Please, Mouse. For me. Please. Trust me, just this once."

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at the cell, eyes getting distant as horrible memories of a past you long to forget creep up on you.

Finally, you suck in a sharp breath and turn to look at him again.

"Three days?"

He nods immediately, his shoulders relaxing while his eyes soften.

"Yes. Three days at most, I promise. I swear, on the memory of my nephew, three days."

Reluctantly, you walk forward, looking at every cell before stepping into the one in the corner. The largest and the darkest.

Your shoulders are tight by your ears as you look around.

It has a thin mattress on the ground and a toilet in the corner. Over half the cell is shrouded in darkness, and the other half is in direct view of the door.

It's bigger than the cage you grew up in, but the sick feeling doesn't leave your stomach as your freedom is brutally ripped from you once again.

Simon squeezes his eyes shut as he closes the door behind you, his heart hurting.

Knowing what he does about you, about your past, this feels like the ultimate betrayal. Arguably one of the worst things he could put you through.

But he needs to.

You flinch at the sound of the lock clicking, not turning to face him even as tears start to trickle down your cheeks.

"Mouse..."

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around yourself in a pathetic attempt at comfort.

"Go," you whisper.

You don't want him here, watching you like some caged dog.

His hands wrap around the bars of your cell as he tries to get you to understand.

"It's not permanent, I swear."

"Go!" You snarl, a hiccuped sob following your words.

And just like that, the floodgates open.

You press your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but you can't hide the shake of your shoulders, the way you curl in on yourself.

It breaks his heart.

Silently, he takes a step back, then another, and another, pausing when he reaches the door.

"I'll be back for you. I promise."

~*~

Somewhere, somehow, between blinks, you fall asleep.

One moment you're closing your eyes to blink, the next you're waking up groggy and stiff.

Ghost stands at the door to your cell, a tray of food and a bottle of water in hand.

He needs to swallow the lump in his throat before he speaks, his heart breaking seeing you like this.

"I brought you food... thought you could use some company."

You're curled up in a ball in the corner of the cell, eyes teary and red as you glare at him.

He put you here.

It kills what's left of his soul to see you like this.

"Things are coming together, won't be much longer now, I promise."

You say nothing, only keep your icy cold glare focused on him as he sets the food down and slides it through the opening at the base of your cell.

The sound of your sniffles plagues him, and he wishes none of this happened in the first place.

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes sad, before turning and leaving you alone once again.

When he finds out who's framing you, he's going to have his fun with them.

You're alone for only a few moments before the panic sets in once more.

Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you struggle to suck in short gasps of oxygen, nails scratching at your neck as you search desperately for your necklace, for the one item that's ever made you feel safe.

Tears run like rivers down your cheeks and you moan out your sorrows.

What would your mother think if she saw you?

She sacrificed everything, everything, for you to leave one cage only for you to willingly walk into another.

You shake your head at yourself, at your foolishness.

This was probably their plan all along. They probably know your father, they've probably gone to get him.

Scrambling to the tray of food, you grab the knife and desperately try to pry at the lock of your cell. When that proves fruitless, you jam the blade into the hinges, sobbing hopelessly.

The knife slides against the metal and finds its way to your thigh, slicing you nice and deep.

You hiss at the pain and drop the blade, stumbling backward then sliding down the wall.

It's useless. There's no escaping.

You start to feel dizzy as your thoughts overwhelm you, and before you know it you're whispering soft apologies and prayers in your mother tongue. Begging for peace, for freedom.

As you whisper the words, something dawns on you.

From the moment of your birth, you were promised nothing but pain. And life was only too eager to oblige; bestowing upon you torment after torment, loss after brutal loss.

Until finally, you broke free. You found your salvation, your Ghost, only for him to be another painful reminder that freedom is not something you were ever meant to taste.

~*~

Price meets Ghost in the boardroom at a ripe 0500hrs the following day, a steaming cup of coffee in a paper cup held tightly in his grasp.

Soap follows shortly after, on high alert.

Gaz trickles in last, the least tense of the three and possibly the most innocent in Ghost's eyes.

"So?" Price asks, looking around the empty room.

"Where's my rat?"

As if on cue, there's a firm knock on the door.

Ghost slaps the tablet he was holding against Price's chest and makes his way to the furthest corner of the room, content to spectate.

"Come in," Price says gruffly, eyes dropping down to the tablet in his hands.

His brows draw together, and then he's looking up at the newcomer.

"Corporal Matthews."

The young man salutes his superiors, then steps into the room, looking around curiously.

"What's going on?"

Price has already pieced it together, giving a short nod to the masked man in the corner.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Gaz and Soap exchange glances, the former shutting the door and leaning against it, blocking any form of escape.

The Corporal chuckles nervously and looks between the three men before swallowing hard when Price steps forward.

"So... you think it's funny what you've been doing? Care to explain to me what exactly you find so fucking funny about this?"

Soap clenches his jaw, dread bubbling in his stomach.

A sick part of him hopes Ghost is wrong, that Matthews isn't the rat, if only to absolve him of the guilt he's sure will eat him alive after all he did to you. All he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"Enough with that, son. We know it was you. Don't make this more difficult than it already is," Price whispers. In his eyes is none of the anger that was there when he spoke to you. No, instead there's nothing but disappointment.

Simon's anger will be enough to cover the whole team, and then some.

"Well, what about the Lieutenant's whore? Huh?" Matthews defends, glaring at the men. They bristle at the words, eyes darting to the hulking man hiding in the shadows in the corner.

"Funny how you knew exactly what we were talkin' about," Soap says, stepping forward and squaring up with the man.

So it's true. He was wrong about you. And he has no idea what he's going to do to fix it.

Price hands the tablet to Matthews and watches as realization dawns on him slowly.

On the screen is live video footage of the holding cells where a familiar mouse is curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth.

"She's been in there for days. This latest leak? Happened last night. Couldn't've been her. We set you up, and you took the bloody bait."

"Well it's her fault anyway!" Matthews suddenly explodes, tossing the tablet onto the table angrily.

"If she wasn't fuckin' the Lieutenant then Jacobs would still be alive! If he didn't have his face in her snatch every night, he'd see that she's a fuckin problem!"

Silence hangs heavily in the room for a long moment as Ghost rises to his feet and slowly approaches the other man.

"You wanna tell 'im that?" Price asks, nodding over the Corporal's shoulder.

He glances back then does a double take, spinning around and backing up only to run right into Soap.

Ghost stops right in front of him, glaring down at the man.

Corporal Matthews tries to hold his ground, to not be intimidated by the huge man in front of him, but he's seen firsthand what this man -this beast- is capable of.

"Didn't get to have my fun with Jacobs, prick died quick. But you can bet 'm'gonna take my time with you."

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley #simon #simon ghost riley #ghost and mouse #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader angst #ghost x reader angst #mouse and ghost

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hahaifolded · 14 hours ago

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141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Say the Word Author's Notes: I have no clue how the military works or even how a base looks like and not gonna lie I don’t respect it enough to do research. Warnings: MDNI, Racism

Ghost really wished he was a better man. Because a better man would have thanked you for your gift instead of ridicule you for it. A better man would have dropped everything to be at your side. A better man would have chosen you over duty.

But alas Ghost is just a ghost. A husk of a man. A monster.

But if there’s one silver lining here is that only a monster can recognize another monster and Ghost knew that look in Nikto’s eyes — it’s the same one he sees everyday in the mirror. Ghost couldn’t protect you from himself but that doesn’t mean he won’t try to protect you from this new monster.

So as you inch your face closer to Nikto’s mask to hear him, Ghost does not hesitate to rip you from the Russian’s jaws.

“Nikto!” he barks. Nikto slowly turns, almost annoyed by the sudden intrusion while you fly back, feeling ashamed for… talking. When this is all over, Ghost will rid you of this guilt. He promises.

“You should stand next to me. Will make it easier when I introduce you to the rookies,” Ghost explains. The two lieutenants were tasked in going over basic combat skills with the rookies.

(And you were here because you’ve been wanting to dust off your own skills and after you heard Nikto was joining Ghost this time around, you felt more comfortable in joining.)

Nikto begrudgingly makes his way over to Ghost, leaving you alone on the mats. And just on cue, the rookies walk into the training room. They surround you with sadly, your “favorites” opting to stand at both of your sides.

Ghost quickly introduces Nikto and splits the room in half. One half would work with Nikto while the other with him. Ghost pretends not notice the “help me” look your shot at Nikto when you got stuck with him. That was his imagination… that had to be in his head.

Ignoring the tightness in his chest, Ghost walks up to his group and quickly goes over today’s lesson plan: submission, how to take down your opponent without any weapons. Easy and just the perfect way to get under you… for professional reasons, of course. After calling you as his partner, which your eyes nearly popped out of your head when he said so, he asks the rest to pair up and take a spot on the mats.

However, before the group split, one of the rookies that especially loved to give you a hard time, spoke up.

“Lieutenant, quick question?”

“Make it quick,” Ghost snaps. You are literally about to throw him to the ground. He needs this rookie to shut up.

“Does the pencil pusher really need to be here? They’re literally just taking space,” he asks. The rookie shoots you a taunting smile.

You couldn’t believe it. You felt your body go hot.

“Say that one more time,” you spit back. You got in his face. Fuck professionalism.

And it seemed like the rookie agreed as he got in your face as well. “Learn your fucking place,” he hisses. “You’re just a means to check off a box. No one actually wants you here so why don’t you go back to your office and fuck off, —!” Your ears start ringing at that last word. He towers over you and stares straight into your eyes. Pure hatred is in his eyes.

You haven’t felt this level of anger in so long. Fuck this guy. Fuck this job. Fuck the 141. Fuck the military. Fuck everyone. You pull your arm back ready to swing when…

Nikto flies past you, throwing the rookie to the ground. He starts to wail on the dumb fuck. The rookie’s little posse tries to pull Nikto off but it’s no use— Nikto pushes them off like nothing. You remain still and watch the scene before you.

And you’re not the only one. Ghost is in utter shock. In the matter of seconds, Ghost was cockblocked, you were disrespected, and a rookie was getting his face caved in and Ghost didn’t do anything. He just watched. Ghost is a man of action. But he just couldn’t at this moment. Why?

“Lieutenant!” one of the rookies shriek. That finally breaks Ghost of his trance. He rushes over to Nikto and pries the man off the rookie. The fellow lieutenant fights back. However before Ghost can really get into it with the Russian, your voice is heard.

“Nikto,” you say. No emotion, just a statement. You look at the two and just shake your head. Nikto stops and moves towards you. He cradles your face and gently buds his head into yours. He grabs your hand and begins to walk out the training room with you when he turns around.

He stares daggers in Ghost’s face and hisses.

“Ask yourself this lieutenant! Why did he feel comfortable enough to disrespect your teammate in front of your face?”

And with that he leaves with you, leaving Ghost with the question he didn't know the answer to.

Word Count: 838

More Thoughts - Next Thought

#cod x reader #cod x poc!reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #nikto x reader #141 x reader

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morikasan · 2 days ago

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He is yours

Summary: Gojo’s sweet student is jealous of him and reminds him of who he belongs to

Warnings: 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, a lot of nicknames,extremely size kink, age gap, reader’s age is 18, riding, belly bulge

“Wait here, sensei. I’ll go grab us some kikufuku, okay?” you said with a cute smile on your face

He nodded, returning the big smile and giving a thumb, “Sounds perfect! I’ll be right here~.”

You went towards the food stand, your heart fluttering with excitement. You bought a small bag of kikufuku, and you turned back to go to Gojo.

But as soon as you turned your back, you saw a woman. The kikufuku bag fell out of your hand when you saw the woman.

She was engaging in conversation with Gojo. A pang of jealousy pricked at your heart, who was she?

Approaching cautiously, you heard snippets of the conversation. The woman seemed to be asking for directions, or else she was trying to talk to your sensei and get his number under the pretext of asking for directions.

There was a possibility that he might do that because your sensei was undeniably handsome.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

Without thinking, you went to them and clung to Gojo’s arm, pressing your petite body against him. “Senseiii, I don’t feel well” you murmured dramatically, “Please take me home.” ojo turned his gaze to you, and a grin slowly appeared on his face when he saw you staring at the woman he was talking to. He wrapped his arm around her delicate waist protectively and looked at the woman again

“you heard her, ma'am, I need to be a good teacher and take my poor student home immediately~”

His grip on your waist was tightened

“Let’s get you home, my cute student~”

“S-sensei-Ah~ ”

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by moans and gasps from both Gojo and you. Both of your voices blend in a chorus of pleasure and desire.

“Y-you are mine, sensei… No other woman can touch you like that.”

With your possessive words, a wry grin spread across his handsome face, and he laughed under his breath.

“ahah~, my lovely student is really daring today, isn’t she~?”

You were so ashamed. Your cheeks were blushed. You had never ridden him before, you had never spoken to him in such a daring way before.

But you couldn’t help it, you were extremely jealous. The fact that the woman he was talking to was really… beautiful.

“Tell me you’ll never look at anyone else but me, sensei.”

The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure, the bed creaking under their movements.

“Fufu~, so this is what happens when my little girl gets jealous~”

Your petite body was bouncing on Gojo’s massive cock, your delicate body rising and falling. Your mouth is open in a mix of pleasure and exertion. His piercing blue eyes shifted to your delicious tits jiggling with every thrust before his eyes. It was a perfect view.

“You think I’d prefer this pretty young cunny to another woman’s, my little mochi~? Oh, only your sloppy cunt can make me so crazy~”

You were overjoyed and touched. He was genuinely in love with you. A lovely smile appeared on your delicate face, and tiny tears of delight spilled from your eyes.

“Awww~ is my pretty girl touched? Ah~ Don’t cry, cutie; your beloved sensei loves you more than you can imagine. So the only time you can cry is when I put this cock in your pussy.”

He slowly brought his hand to your delicate face and wiped away the tiny tears with his thumb. You leaned in his touch as you kept bouncing on his cock. Your slender arms gripping onto his broad shoulders as you ride him. Your body moves in a slow rhythm, your hips bouncing on his large member. Moans and gasps echo through the room.

*clap*

His large hands slowly slid from your cheek to your plump ass and spanked your soft ass. It causes your ass to ripple and slightly flush. You squealed sweetly, and your body leaped in sweet shock and stopped for a moment.

“kya~!”

“Fufu~ go on, little girl~. Keep riding your sensei’s cock like a slut~.” Gojo’s deep voice rumbled with satisfaction.

With that, you started to bounce on his cock again, your cute moans growing louder with each movement on his big cock.

Your small hand’s grip on Gojo’s shoulders tightened, nails digging into his skin. Gojo’s large hands grip your soft hips as you rock back and forth on his big cock, his large hands enveloping your soft ass cheeks. He was guiding your movements as he revels in the feel of your soft skin against his hard body.

His eyes were a shade of blue so intense they seemed to pierce through the shadows, watching your every move with predatory interest. He could sense your approaching edge, so he slowed your pace with a firm grip, drawing out the pleasure and tormenting you with the promise of release.

He wanted you to beg for your release.

“S-Sensei~, ah~ahah~!”

He lifted you with ease to meet his powerful thrusts. The change in angle had you seeing stars, the pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. Your breath hitched as little spots of white danced before your watery eyes. Your breath hitched in your throat, and your rhythm became more erratic as you chased your climax relentlessly.

*clap clap clap*

you whined above him, a high-pitched sound of frustration and need that was music to his ears. He smirked, white hair falling into his eyes as he decided whether to let you find sweet release or keep you teetering on the brink a bit longer.

“Please, sensei~” you gasped out, your trembling voice barely more than a series of panting breaths. “I need—”

“What do you need, my little one?” Gojo teased, his voice low and husky

you could barely form words, but your delicate, trembling body spoke volumes; it arched towards him, seeking completion.

“Y-you. I-I need you. P-please, sensei”

Tears streaming down your soft, blushed cheeks from overstimulation, sobs escaping your throat… God, you were gonna be the death of him.

His grip on your ass tightened, and his movements became more forceful, lifting you slightly and then pulling you down onto his cock with a vigor that left no room for thought—only feeling.

“I-I’m close~kyaah~”

*clap clap clap clap clap*

“Gojo… Sensei~” she gasped out between pants, her voice shaky with need. Your use of his title in such an intimate moment only made him crazy

“Let go for me, y/n”

He commanded in a low growl, contrasted with his earlier sarcastic and unserious tone. His voice was now rough with lust and edged with a raw desire that sent another wave of arousal coursing through you.

With one final thrust that reached deep within you, Gojo sent you spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. Your body shook as waves of pleasure crashed over you; you cried out his name like a sacred incantation as you clung to him.

Gojo followed soon after; his semen filled your fertile womb. There was a slight swelling in your tummy. He fell on his back on the bed and pulled you with him, wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you tightly to him. His cock was still inside you.

You put your cheek against his chest and whispered tiredly to him as you caressed his muscular chest as you lied on his body

“I love you so much, sensei…”

his gaze softened and smiled softly. What a cute little girl, he thought.

He inhaled your scent as he placed a long, passionate kiss on the crown of your head, his arms still wrapped tightly around you.

“I love you too, y/n-chan”

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anundyingfidelity · 23 hours ago

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HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,�� you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?”

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

PART TWO

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