ââââ đđ„đšđšđ, đđźđŹđ, đđ§đ đđšđ„đ ââââ
S.JY and P.SH
(ëëìŠ)
đ°đ'đ đđđđ đđđđđ đ đđđđđ đđđ 20 đ đđđ, đšđđ đđ'đđ đđđđ' 'đđđđđ đđđ 'đđđđđ , đđđđđđ' đđđđđ đđđđđ
Pairing: Jake x Reader x Sunghoon (outlaw!AU, western)
Genre: smut, slow burn, danger, intimacy, enemies to lovers, found family vibes
Warnings: explicit smut (threesome, taking turns, riding, oral, fingering, possessiveness, competition), violence, gunfights, blood, protective/overbearing behavior, outlaw roughness, but also softness & tenderness
Word Count: 14,129 words (WHAT THE SHITTTT)
Summary: When two notorious outlaws tear you from your quiet little town at dawn, you expect a bullet in your back before sunrise. Instead, youâre dragged across the desert, through gunfire, canyon passes, and nights spent too close under the stars, toward a treasure only you know the way to. Jake is all charm and dangerous grins, Sunghoon is all sharp edges and silent stares, and you? Youâre caught between them, terrified⊠and slowly undone by them both. Gunpowder on their hands, hunger in their eyes, and gold waiting at the end of the road. But when the treasureâs finally in reach, you realize the real danger isnât losing your life. Itâs losing your heart.
âMaybe,â Jake drawled, shrugging, before tipping his forehead against yours. âBut you ainât gettinâ rid of us now.â
To: That one anon in my inbox <3 Thank you for your request. I had to turn this into a full-blown mini novella (lol)
The town of Blackwater Ridge wasnât much to look at, two crooked streets of dust and wood, wind always blowing grit into your teeth, the air heavy with horse sweat, gun oil, and the cloying sweetness of cheap whiskey. The sun was dropping low, staining the horizon in bruised colors, but the saloon lamps burned hot and orange, smoke already curling out the swinging doors.
Inside, the air was thicker, smell of cigars and tobacco chewing through the din of piano keys, laughter sharp like broken glass, boots stomping against uneven floorboards. Jake leaned his chair back on two legs, hat slanted low over his eyes, one hand loose around a glass of bourbon. Sunghoon sat straighter beside him, cards fanned neat and precise in his hands, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. Where Jakeâs grin was lazy, Sunghoonâs silence was the warning that kept most men from pressing their luck.
Theyâd been on the road too long, dust ground into the seams of their coats, the weight of wanted posters folded in their saddlebags, but money was running thinner than patience. Which was why their ears caught sharp at the words slurred from a table near the back.
A man, red-nosed and loud, slapped his palm against the table. âI swear on my mamaâs grave, little thing knows where itâs at. Gold. Money. Been sittinâ there gatherinâ dust since Jed Cartwright got himself shot.â His voice was greasy with whiskey, and his friends howled at every sentence, mugs crashing together.
âYou talkinâ about that girl again?â one sneered, spitting tobacco to the floor. âPretty little thing, always keepinâ her nose clean. She donât know a goddamn thing.â
The first man barked a laugh. âDonât she? Saw it with her own eyes, they say. âBout time someone convinced her to lead the way. Could make more use of her than just that treasure, too. Shame lettinâ a body like hers go to waste.â The table roared, laughter ugly and mean, echoing off the stained walls.
Jakeâs chair thudded back onto all fours, his smirk gone, eyes sharp beneath the brim of his hat. He flicked his gaze sideways.
Sunghoon hadnât moved, still toying with his cards, but his jaw ticked. A curl of smoke left his lips slow, deliberate. Their eyes met across the space between them, silent agreement, the kind theyâd built from years of outlaw blood and dust.
Find her first.
The piano played on, gamblers cursed, boots scuffed over warped wood, but the world had already shifted for them. Jake tipped his bourbon back, throat working with a slow swallow, then set the empty glass down with a decisive clink.
âReckon we just got ourselves a lead, partner,â he drawled low, lips curving into something dangerous.
Sunghoon finally laid his cards down, neat on the table, and pushed back his chair. The scrape of wood on wood was quiet, but it cut cleaner than the laughter around them. He crushed the cigar out in an ashtray, eyes still fixed on Jake.
âThen letâs ride before someone else does.â
The two of them stood, dust swirling around their boots as the doors swung wide on their way out. The wind outside was cooler, carrying grit and the distant cry of a coyote. Their horses snorted in the street, restless as if they too could smell the hunt.
And somewhere, not far enough, you were finishing your errands, blissfully unaware that two shadows had already decided you belonged to them.
ââââââ
It had started, like most of their troubles, with gold.
Not a train heist this time, not a poker game gone bloody, but a man with too much money and not enough sense to hide it. Some cattle baron, thick in the waist and dripping in silver buttons, had rolled into Dry Creek boasting loud about the weight of his purse. His stallion was fine-bred, his boots new, and the gold coins he slapped onto the bar clinked loud enough to make the whole saloon turn their heads.
Jake had been the first to notice. He always was, the sparkle of whiskey in the lamplight, the shine of a coin catching his sharp eye. He leaned back in his chair, hat tipped down, and smirked at Sunghoon across the table.
âTell me you see it,â he drawled, voice low.
Sunghoon didnât look up from the cards he was shuffling, hands steady. âManâs a walking target.â
Jakeâs grin widened. âThen letâs oblige him.â
It was quick work, the kind theyâd perfected after years on the run. A bump in the street outside, Jake apologizing with that honey-sweet charm, hand slipping slick as oil into the manâs coat. By the time Sunghoon called the horses, Jake had the purse heavy in his palm, gold warm from another manâs body heat.
But the baron wasnât as stupid as he looked.
Heâd been boasting, yes, but boasting with hired guns sitting two tables away. Guns who noticed when their bossâs purse disappeared, and who werenât shy about shouting âThieves!â loud enough to rattle windows.
The chase through Dry Creek was all dust and shouting. Horses screaming down the main street, pistols firing wild, children pulled off porches by screaming mothers. Jake laughed the whole way, hat flying off, one hand clutching the stolen purse while the other steered his horse through the chaos.
Sunghoon was all grit, jaw clenched, firing back over his shoulder with calm precision. Each shot sent another pursuer ducking for cover, but more kept coming. Too many.
They almost made it, almost cleared the town limits, open desert yawning before them, but a sheriffâs bullet clipped Jakeâs horse, sending it crashing to the dirt. Jake rolled, cursing, gold scattering across the ground like fallen stars.
Sunghoon circled back, hauling Jake up, but they were surrounded before they could make another break. Rifles cocked, revolvers steady, half the townâs deputies arrayed against them.
Jake spat blood in the dust, grinning even as the barrel of a rifle pressed against his temple. âWell, hell,â he drawled, âguess supperâs on the house tonight.â
Sunghoon didnât fight when they shackled him, but his eyes burned cold, calculating. He already knew: prison wasnât their future. Escape was.
And so, with wrists chained and boots dragged through the sheriffâs door, thatâs how they found themselves in the cell, waiting, watching, until a girl with downcast eyes and a rag in her hands walked in and unknowingly tied herself to their fate.
The sheriffâs office smelled of sweat, iron, and old wood, the floorboards sticky with spilled coffee and tobacco spit. Lantern light flickered against the bars of the cells, and a lazy fan squeaked overhead, stirring the warm, dusty air but not clearing it.
Jake leaned against the bars, one wrist shackled, the chain clinking with every shift of his weight. His lip was split from the scuffle that landed them here, but his grin was still cocky, teeth flashing when he tilted his head toward Sunghoon.
Sunghoon sat quieter, hands folded on his knees, hat pulled low so the shadow cut across his eyes. The deputy whoâd arrested them strutted like heâd caught prize game, but Sunghoon hadnât said a word, just watched, steady as a snake waiting in the grass.
Then the door at the back creaked open, and you stepped in with a bucket and rag. The room changed. Your dress was plain, worn thin at the elbows, apron tied neat, hair pinned back, but your face, even half hidden, was enough to make the air crackle. You kept your eyes down, shoulders small, and bent to scrub at a dark stain on the wood.
âEveninâ, sweetheart,â one of the deputies called, leaning back in his chair with his boots on the desk. âFloor looks cleaner every time you crawl on it.â His buddies snorted, one making a crude gesture with his hips.
You didnât answer, didnât even flinch, just worked faster, rag moving in quick circles. Jakeâs grin faltered into something sharper, eyes narrowing as he looked from you to the jeering men. His drawl rolled out low, amused but edged. âWell, ainât this somethinâ.â
Sunghoonâs gaze was locked on you, unblinking. The rag in your hands, the curve of your jaw, the way you shrank under the deputiesâ stares. His jaw worked once before he spoke. âThatâs her.â
Jakeâs brows flicked up. âThe pretty little thing.â
At that, one of the deputies glanced over. âWhatâd you just say?â
Jake tilted his head, lazy grin back in place, rattling his chains for effect. âNothinâ that concerns you, lawman. Just admirinâ your choice of⊠hired help.â His eyes slid back to you, lingering.
You finally glanced up then, just for a heartbeat, eyes wide and wary before snapping down again. It was enough. Jake saw the flash of fear, the sharp intelligence behind it. Sunghoon saw recognition, the kind that said youâd already learned to hide more than you showed. The deputies laughed again, muttering about âoutlaws with no sense of respect,â but the sound faded into background noise. For Jake and Sunghoon, the world narrowed to you.
The girl who knew where Cartwrightâs gold was buried. The girl every drunk in Blackwater Ridge had been talking about. And she was right here, in the sheriffâs office, scrubbing their goddamn floor.
Jake leaned close to the bars, voice low, pitched so only Sunghoon heard. âGuess we donât need to search no more.â
Sunghoonâs lips curved, not a smile, but something darker. âNo. We just need to get out.â
And with that, the plan shifted. Not escape first, treasure later. Now, it was escape with her. Because they both knew, as sure as the desert sun would rise tomorrow, you werenât leaving this town without them.
ââââââ
Dawn cracked over Dry Creek in shades of pale gold and dust, the town still rubbing the sleep from its eyes. The sheriffâs office was quiet save for the creak of floorboards and the low murmur of men trading shifts. You were still there, kneeling on the warped planks with a bucket at your side, rag soaked through with yesterdayâs filth. They never let you leave until they decided, always more orders barked, more mud tracked across the floor for you to scrub.
You kept your head down, as always. But the silence broke with the scrape of metal on stone.
At first, it was subtle, just a clink, a shift, the sound of chains being tested. Then, a snap. A curse muffled behind bars. And before you could even look up, the cell door slammed open.
Jake burst through first, grin flashing in the half-light, cuffs dangling from one wrist where heâd jimmied the lock. Sunghoon followed like a shadow, movements precise, eyes sharp as a hawkâs.
âShitââ a deputy shouted, fumbling for his rifle.
The room erupted. Gunfire cracked, men yelled, bullets splintered wood from the walls. Smoke filled the air, sharp and choking. You froze where you knelt, rag slipping from your hand, heart pounding loud enough you were sure they could hear it. But the two outlaws werenât looking at the deputies, not really. Their gazes had already cut to you.
The girl from the stories. The treasure girl. Sunghoon moved first. He was on you in two strides, one gloved hand snatching your wrist before you could scramble back. You let out a startled squeak, the sound high and soft, and for the briefest instant, his mouth twitched. Adorable. But he crushed the thought down, jaw tightening. No distractions.
âGot her,â he barked to Jake, pulling you up so fast your feet barely touched the floor.
Jake was already vaulting over an overturned chair, snatching a rifle off the wall. âHorseâs out back!â he shouted, firing a shot that sent a deputy diving for cover.
You struggled, kicking against Sunghoonâs grip, but it was useless. He hauled you through the back door like you weighed nothing, the cool dawn air slapping your face as the chaos behind you swelled louder.
Jake had a horse saddled within seconds, reins gripped tight, boots in the stirrups. Sunghoon didnât hesitate, he grabbed you around the waist, lifted you clean off the ground, and threw you onto the horseâs back. You cried out, clinging to the leather as your skirt tangled, but there was no mercy in the pace.
He swung up behind you in one smooth motion, one arm banding around your middle to lock you against him. His chest was solid, heat seeping through the thin fabric of your dress, breath steady even as gunfire rang out behind.
Jake kicked the horse forward, shouting, âYah!â The animal surged into a gallop, hooves pounding, dirt and sparks flying as the street whipped past. Deputies poured out of the office, rifles raised, but the outlaws were already gone, three silhouettes tearing down the main street, swallowed by the rising sun.
Bullets whizzed past, one grazing the saddle horn, another sparking off a trough. You squeezed your eyes shut, breath caught in your throat, while Sunghoonâs grip only tightened, his body a shield at your back. âKeep your head down,â he muttered low, voice rough against your ear. âAinât losinâ you to a stray.â
The town shrank behind you, shouts fading, smoke rising in the distance until it was nothing but a smear on the horizon. The horse slowed to a hard trot, then to a walk, sides heaving.
Jake yanked the reins, glancing back with a wolfish grin, teeth gleaming in the early light. âWell, sweetheart,â he called, his southern drawl thick with amusement, âlooks like youâre ours now.â
Sunghoonâs hand didnât leave your waist. Even when the dust settled, he kept you pressed tight to him, heartbeat steady against your spine, as if daring you to even think about slipping away.
The horse thundered over hard-packed earth, the town now a smear of smoke in the distance. Your fingers dug into the saddle horn, knuckles white, breath catching with every jolt. Behind you, Sunghoonâs arm was locked firm around your waist, iron and unyielding, keeping you flush against the wall of his chest no matter how you squirmed. His grip was a cage, and you were caught inside it.
Jake rode just ahead, hat tilted low, the red scarf at his neck whipping in the wind. The leather of his gun belt creaked with each shift, revolvers glinting in the dawn light. He looked back at you, and even with dust clinging to his sweat-slick throat and his shirt stretched tight over sun-browned muscle, he was smiling like this was nothing more than a joyride.
âWell now,â he drawled, voice rolling sweet as molasses, âainât you just a pretty picture up there.â His accent curled around each word, slow and honey-thick, enough to make your stomach twist even as terror rooted you stiff in the saddle. You shook your head, eyes wide, throat too tight to speak. Jakeâs grin only widened.
âNo need for them frightened eyes, sugar,â he went on, adjusting the reins one-handed, his other gloved hand loose against the saddle horn. âWe ainât gonna hurt you. Not⊠unless you give us reason.â
Sunghoon shifted behind you, the heat of his body seeping into your back. He said nothing, but his gaze was sharp, cutting over you like a blade. Analyzing. Weighing. You felt it in the way his fingers tightened minutely at your hip each time you flinched, like he was measuring every twitch, every breath.
Jake tipped his hat back with a flick of his finger, eyes gleaming under the brim. âReckon you know who we are by now. Heard enough whispers in town, Iâm sure. Jake and Sunghoon, men you donât forget once youâve laid eyes on âem.â He gave a cocky wink, and you swallowed hard, nails digging deeper into leather.
Behind you, Sunghoonâs voice finally came, low, flat, smooth as a knife sliding from its sheath. âKeep your mouth shut, Jake. Sheâs scared enough without your chatter.â
Jake let out a low laugh, riding closer, close enough that the heat off his horse mixed with yours. âScared, sure. But fear makes the tongue loose.â He leaned in slightly, eyes locked on yours. âAinât that right, darlinâ?â
Your heart lurched, but your lips stayed sealed, trembling as you turned your gaze away. Sunghoonâs hand flexed at your waist, pulling you firmer against him, a silent warning not to fall apart, or to run.
The hours stretched long. The desert spread around you, endless and dry, the sun climbing high and burning down until sweat traced lines along your temples. Dust coated your tongue, and every rattle of the saddle left your muscles aching. But neither outlaw loosened their hold, not Jakeâs sharp gaze tracking every shift of your shoulders, nor Sunghoonâs grip, steady and grounding, like he could anchor you there forever.
By the time dusk began to settle, the horizon painted deep indigo and gold, stars pricking through the veil of night, the horse slowed to a trot. Jake pulled up, twisting in his saddle to scan the rocky stretch ahead. The land was barren save for a scatter of boulders and dry brush, but it was quiet, safe enough.
Jake hopped down first, boots crunching in the gravel, dust clinging to his trousers where they stretched tight around his thighs. He tugged at the red scarf around his neck, pulling it loose enough to reveal the line of his throat, damp with sweat and dust. The creak of leather straps and the heavy thud of saddlebags hitting the dirt echoed loud in the emptiness, and you couldnât tear your eyes away.
âThink thisâll do,â he said, voice carrying easy, casual as if they werenât on the run with a kidnapped girl. He looped the reins around a post of rock, then glanced up at you with a lopsided smirk. âTime to set up camp, sugar. You ever sleep under the stars before?â
Sunghoon followed behind you, silent as a shadow. He slid from the saddle without a sound, landing in one fluid motion, boots barely stirring the dust. His presence loomed at your back, a solid wall of heat, and before you could think to move, his hand curled around your waist. The leather of his fingerless glove scraped against the fabric of your dress as he lifted you down, as if you weighed nothing.
Your feet hit the ground too hard. Your knees wobbled, threatening to buckle, but his grip steadied you, firm and unyielding. His breath brushed your ear when he murmured, âStand.â The command shot through you, sharper than the night air. You obeyed.
âDonât wander,â he murmured, voice low, warning.
Jake laughed, busying himself with pulling gear from the saddlebags. âShe ainât wanderinâ nowhere. Sheâs got two outlaws sittinâ on her shadow now.â He cut you another glance, eyes gleaming with mischief. âBest get used to it, sweetheart. Nightâs just beginninâ.â
The firewood cracked as Sunghoon dropped it to the ground, and above, the first sweep of stars lit the endless dark. You stood caught between them, the desert night yawning wide, fear knotting with something heavier in your chest as realization settled in, you werenât going home.
The desert fell into silence once the horse stopped moving. Dusk had swallowed the horizon whole, inky blue bleeding into black, and the stars came alive, sharp, endless pinpricks scattered across the sky.
Jake crouched by a cluster of dry brush, striking a match against his boot heel. The flare lit his face in gold, shadows cutting across his cheekbones, teeth glinting in a grin as he coaxed flame to life. The smell of sulfur and smoke curled into your lungs, acrid, sharp.
He dropped the match, fire licking through the kindling. The crackle of wood filled the silence, sparks snapping upward to join the stars. The light washed over him, catching in the sheen of sweat along his tanned forearms as he rolled his sleeves higher, exposing corded muscle. His gun belt sagged low on his hips, silver buckle glinting every time he shifted.
âPretty little setup, ainât it?â Jake drawled, voice thick, molasses-slow. He stretched back on his heels, watching the fire grow. âNothinâ but us, the desert, and the stars. Almost romantic, if you forget the law ridinâ our asses.â
Your throat worked, dry, and you hugged your arms around yourself. The fireâs glow danced over your hands, highlighting the dirt under your nails, the tiny tremors running through your fingers.
Sunghoon dropped an armful of wood at Jakeâs side, the crack loud enough to make you flinch. He didnât look at you when he moved to unbuckle his holster, laying it down with quiet precision beside the fire. The glint of steel caught your eye, revolver gleaming dark in the light. Even stripped of the weapon, he looked dangerous, like the gun was just an accessory, not the source of the threat.
Jake noticed your stare. Of course he did. He leaned an elbow on his knee, smirk curling his lips. âYouâre starinâ, sugar. Like you ainât sure whether to run⊠or beg.â
Heat flooded your cheeks, and you snapped your gaze away. The sound of him chuckling, low, throaty, rich, settled in your chest like smoke.
Sunghoon finally looked at you then. Really looked. His eyes were dark, unreadable, cutting through every layer you tried to hide behind. You shifted on your feet, nails biting into your palms under his stare. He tilted his head, just a fraction, as though cataloguing each nervous twitch, every flick of your lashes.
Jake threw another log onto the fire, sparks crackling high. He stretched out on the dirt, one hand propping him up as he tipped his head back toward the stars. âNow,â he said, drawl curling sweet, âwhy donât we get to know each other a bit? Iâm Jake, thatâs Sunghoon. You already know that, I reckon. Question is⊠whatâs your name, darlinâ?â
Your mouth opened, then closed. You couldnât tell if it was the danger in his tone or the honey wrapping around it that made your pulse race faster. Sunghoon didnât move, didnât blink, but you felt his hand twitch where it had rested at your hip moments ago, like he was reminding himself he could hold you down again if you bolted.
The fire popped. Smoke drifted skyward. Somewhere far off, a coyote howled. And you realized, every detail of this moment, from the heat of the flames to the weight of their stares, was branding itself into your memory. You were caught.
Completely.
ââââââ
The fire burned steady now, logs collapsing in on themselves with the occasional hiss and spit of resin. Smoke curled upward in a pale column, drifting into the desert sky. The heat pressed against your shins, a constant reminder that you were too close, too exposed. Every sense in your body was sharpened to a painful point, your ears straining for each scrape of metal, each murmur of breath, each crunch of teeth on food.
Jake leaned back on his elbow, a tin plate balanced careless in his other hand. He ate like he owned the night, messy, loud, unconcerned. Each bite of salted pork was torn with his teeth, the sound tearing through the silence in jagged snaps. Grease glistened on his lower lip, catching the firelight as his tongue darted out to lick it clean. He didnât look at you while he chewed, but you could feel it, his awareness coiled, deliberate, like a snake waiting to strike. The scrape of his knife against the plate was rough, uneven, punctuating the crackle of the fire like a threat.
Sunghoon was the opposite. He sat cross-legged, posture perfect, his plate steady in his lap. His movements were precise, almost eerily so, the way his knife cut cleanly through bread, the way he portioned out bites as though he were counting them. He never made a sound when he chewed, jaw moving slow and deliberate. But every few seconds, his gaze flicked toward you through the curtain of firelight, heavy and unblinking. You didnât know which was worse, Jakeâs easy lawlessness or Sunghoonâs sharp restraint.
Your own stomach twisted at the smell of food, fat sizzling, bread toasted dark on one edge where Jake had shoved it too close to the fire. Hunger clawed at you, but your throat was locked tight, your body taut with something heavier than appetite.
Jake broke the quiet first, voice sticky-smooth, mouth still half full. âFunny thing âbout fire,â he drawled, licking his thumb before wiping it down the edge of his blade. The sound was soft, intimate, and it made your breath catch. âIt gets folks to loosen their tongues. Somethinâ about the heat, the dark, the way it makes a body feel watched.â His grin cut sharp as he finally looked at you, eyes glinting. âAnd darlinâ, you look watched. Like youâre waitinâ for somethinâ to snap.â
You gripped your hands tighter in your lap, nails pressing half-moons into your palms. The silence stretched, broken only by the crunch of Jake biting into another strip of meat, the faint clink of Sunghoonâs knife against tin.
Finally, Jake tilted his plate toward you, gesturing lazy. âNow, Iâll make it plain. We know who you are.â His tongue clicked against his teeth. âTreasure girl. Pretty little ghost story folks whisper âround the fire. Been a long while since we got so lucky sittinâ across from the very one who knows where itâs hid.â
Your breath shuddered out. The words tangled in your throat, but something in their stares, Jakeâs sharp and goading, Sunghoonâs silent and suffocating, pulled them free.
Slow. Careful. Like stepping barefoot across broken glass. âI know where it is.â You muttered.
Jake stilled mid-bite. His chewing stopped, jaw going slack just long enough for the firelight to paint his expression, half-satisfied, half-predatory. Sunghoon didnât move, but his eyes narrowed, cutting through the shadows until you felt pinned in place.
Your tongue felt heavy, but you kept going, the words dragged from you by something beyond choice. âItâs too far.â Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. âToo far away, and I⊠Iâve never been outside the town. Not by myself.â
Jakeâs brows rose slow. He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his plate forgotten. âWhat dâyou mean by that?â he asked, voice soft now, dangerous in its gentleness.
Your fingers twisted in your skirts. The fire hissed, a log collapsing in on itself, sparks spraying upward. It was too loud, too sharp, and you forced the words out before you could choke on them.
âJed Cartwright and my father⊠they were brothers.â The admission scraped raw in your throat, but it was impossible to stop now. âOutlaws. They traveled together, stole together. And I⊠after my mother passed, I was always with them. There wasnât anywhere else for me to be.â
The air went still, even the fire seeming to quiet. Jakeâs smirk faltered, slipping into something unreadable, while Sunghoonâs jaw flexed once, sharp muscle twitching.
You drew a breath that shook. âMy father got sick. Poisoned. It was around the same time Jed was away hiding the stash. When he came back and found me alone⊠he didnât just leave me.â Your gaze dropped to your lap, shame and memory knotting tight in your chest. âHe showed me the treasure. Said when I was alone, I wouldnât need anyone else to show me what to do. That I could⊠I could manage on my own. Be strong enough without depending on them.â
Silence swallowed the fire crackle whole. Jakeâs knife stilled against the plate, his eyes locked on you with something harsher than curiosity. Sunghoonâs breath shifted, slow and measured, but he didnât look away.
For a moment, it felt like the desert itself was holding still. No wind. No night sounds. Just the weight of two outlawsâ stares, the smell of smoke and salt, and the crushing realization that you had given them more than words. You had given them yourself.
And neither of them spoke. Not yet.
The silence dragged long enough that your pulse began to thunder in your ears, louder than the fire, louder than their breathing. You could feel the sweat bead at your temple despite the cooling desert air, the way your body begged to flinch at every snap of firewood, every shift of leather creaking as one of them moved.
Then Jake broke it.
A low chuckle, honey-thick and dangerous, rolled out of him as he leaned forward. His elbows rested heavy on his knees, his knife dangling loose in his hand. The fire carved his grin in molten gold and shadow.
âWell, now,â he drawled, each word slow enough to stick to your skin, âainât that somethinâ. Jed Cartwrightâs blood sittinâ right in front of us. And all this time, you been hidinâ in plain sight.â His eyes dragged over you, deliberate, like he was mapping you out inch by inch. The red scarf around his throat caught the light, a slash of color against tanned skin and sweat-slick muscle. âPretty thing like you, walkinâ around with a secret menâd kill for⊠Donât that make you feel just a little bit powerful?â
Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Your throat was too tight.
Jake smirked wider, tongue flicking over his lower lip to chase a glisten of grease. âMm. Thought so. Youâre sittinâ there lookinâ like a rabbit caught in a snare, but deep down?â His drawl thickened, darker now, laced with something that felt too intimate. âDeep down you know you got both our eyes right where you want âem. Donât deny it, darlinâ. Donât waste your breath.â
Your heart thumped so loud it hurt. You wanted to look away, but the weight of his stare pinned you down harder than rope.
Sunghoon finally spoke then, voice cool, cutting through Jakeâs velvet heat like steel. âWhy didnât you ever touch the gold?â His words were clipped, precise, but they made your stomach turn because he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear you say it.
You swallowed hard. âI told you. Itâs far. Iâve never been outside the town. Not alone.â
Jakeâs grin slipped, softer now, curiosity edging in. âNot alone, huh?â His gaze sharpened. âYou said you were with âem, your pa, Jed. Out ridinâ, stealinâ, livinâ on the wind. So what do you mean you never been alone? Not once?â
The fire popped, sending sparks upward, and your nails dug crescents into your palms as you forced yourself to answer. âBecause after my mother died, I was never without them. My father wouldnât let me out of his sight. Jed neither, when he was around. And when they were gone⊠I stayed put. Waited. Thatâs all I ever did.â
For a heartbeat, neither outlaw moved. Then Jakeâs smile faltered, just a fraction, but enough to strip it of its swagger. He studied you, eyes darker now, less like a man toying with prey and more like one realizing the weight of what he held.
Sunghoonâs jaw worked once, slow. His stare didnât waver, though you thought you caught something flicker, something like recognition, quickly buried.
The silence that followed was unbearable, pressing heavy on your chest. You wanted to shrink into the dirt, to disappear into the night, but you couldnât. Not with Jakeâs smirk crawling back into place, softer now, meaner for how gentle it sounded when he finally spoke again.
âYouâre a mystery wrapped in a dress too plain for it, pretty thing.â His voice was low, rich as whiskey. âAnd now youâre ours.â
ââââââ
Morning broke in a wash of pale gold, the desert still cool under its blanket of dawn. You startled awake at the soft rasp of leather, the faint clink of metal, and when your eyes opened, the first thing you saw was Jake crouched beside you.
The outlawâs hat tilted back enough for his grin to shine clear in the light, boyish in a way that shouldnât have existed on a man like him. The scent of smoke and sweat still clung to him, but beneath it lingered something warm, sun-heated leather, the faint sweetness of tobacco. âRise ân shine, pretty thing,â he drawled, voice dipped in honey. âGot a long road ahead, and Iâd rather not drag you by your skirts if you can help it.â
Your body jolted with instinctive resistance, but you found yourself nodding anyway, heat blooming in your cheeks at the easy charm in his smile.
By the time camp was broken, the three of you were mounted again. Jake at the lead with the reins, Sunghoon close behind, and you caught between them like a prize neither intended to lose. The desert stretched endless ahead, the horizon shimmering, each gust of wind pulling dust up in soft, curling ghosts.
Hours blurred into one another. The steady creak of saddle leather, the jingle of bridles, the crunch of hooves on dirt, your world narrowed to those sounds. Sometimes, when the sun hit merciless and sweat rolled down your spine, Jake would whistle low, some tune you didnât recognize, lazy and sweet like molasses. Other times, when the path tightened to a canyon pass, Sunghoonâs sharp voice cut through the silence, his instructions brisk but protective, âDuck your head.â âStay close.â
The canyon walls rose red and jagged around you, echoing the clatter of hooves until it sounded like an army rode with you. You traced the striations in the stone, ancient and layered, and tried not to think about how you had never stepped foot beyond your dusty town until now.
By midday, you were brave enough to speak. The heat had made Jake loosen his scarf, his shirt sticking to his tanned chest where muscle shifted with every tug of the reins. Sunghoon had shed his coat, sleeves rolled high, forearms corded tight and gleaming with sweat. They looked like men carved out of the land itself, too wild and sharp to belong in any sheriffâs town.
âYouâve⊠done this a lot,â you said softly, almost swallowed by the wind.
Jakeâs head tipped back, laughter spilling out rich and easy. âDarlinâ, ridinâ through dirt and stoneâs about the only thing we do.â He glanced back at you, his grin catching the sunlight. âDonât tell me this is your first time stretchinâ those legs past the edge of town?â
Heat crept into your face, and you managed a small smile despite yourself. âI told you. Iâve never been out here. Not like this.â
For the first time, Sunghoonâs voice softened. Still low, still cool, but without the bite it carried before. âThen keep your eyes open. Desertâll eat the unprepared.â
You nodded, but the words didnât scare you. Not anymore. Not with the way his gaze lingered, as if making sure you understood he wasnât warning you out of cruelty, but out of something else.
ââââââ
The sun sank low by the time the mountain pass loomed ahead, jagged teeth of rock silhouetted against a bruising sky. The air grew thinner, sharper, carrying the scent of stone and pine instead of dust. The horsesâ hooves clattered on rock, sparking against stone as the path narrowed to a perilous edge.
Jake hummed a tune under his breath, easy even with the drop yawning just feet away, his presence a tether steadying you when your stomach flipped. Sunghoon rode close, his hand brushing your arm when the path tilted too steep, steadying you with a touch that felt more careful than you expected.
By the time you reached the final stretch of trail, dusk had swallowed the land whole. The sky bled from indigo into black, stars pricking through like tiny lanterns, the air crisp with the promise of night. You should have been terrified, of the mountains, of the treasure, of the men who had stolen you away.
But instead you found yourself⊠breathing easier. You could glance at Jakeâs grin without flinching, you could listen to Sunghoonâs voice without shrinking. And when you smiled, small, hesitant, it felt real.
Maybe too real.
The mountain air bit sharper than the desert, thinner, cleaner. When Jake pulled the horses off the narrow pass into a hidden clearing, you felt your lungs drink deep for the first time all day. The stars overhead burned clearer here, scattered bright across the ink-dark sky, and the chill pressed at your skin until you shivered.
Camp built itself in the rhythm of their bodies. Jake crouched low, striking flint until the fire sputtered and caught, smoke curling into the crisp night. He whistled while he worked, that same lazy tune, his hat tipped back, the red scarf at his throat loose like a sin you werenât supposed to look at. Sunghoon, precise as always, unloaded packs, his every movement economical, the way he staked the horses, the way he checked each gun with a flick of his wrist, oiled metal catching the firelight.
You tried to make yourself small, quiet, sitting just out of the fireâs circle, hugging your knees against the cold. Your ears filled with the familiar soundtrack of them: Jakeâs low hum, Sunghoonâs measured footsteps, the clink of belt buckles and gunmetal. Somehow, it had become⊠comforting.
That was why the crunch of footsteps didnât register at first. Not until they came from the wrong direction, behind you, from the treeline.
You whipped your head around just as a shadow peeled itself free from the dark. A man, ragged, hat pulled low, a toothpick dancing between his lips. His grin spread slow when he saw you sitting there alone.
âWell, ainât this a sight.â His voice was slick with mockery, curling cruel around the edges. âPretty little thing all tucked up in the mountains. Donât reckon you belong to those two bastards over there, do ya?â
Your heart lurched. Words stuck in your throat, useless. The man crouched, close enough you caught the stench of unwashed leather, old liquor. His hand shot out, fingers grazing your jaw as he tilted your face up. âMm. Bet youâd fetch better than gold if I took you down the ridge. Or maybe,â his grin widened, cruel, âIâll make use of you before Iââ
The crack of a gun cut the night in half. The man froze, his toothpick snapping clean in his mouth. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as you realized the barrel pressed against his temple wasnât yours; it was Jakeâs.
Jake stood behind him, tall, broad, his revolver cocked and steady. But it was his face that made your breath stop. The grin was gone. Every ounce of honey had burned away, leaving something sharp and feral, his eyes dark with a fury you hadnât seen yet. âTake your hand off her,â Jake said, voice low and steady, thick with a threat that promised more than death.
The outlawâs fingers twitched back, but before he could move, Sunghoon appeared from the other side. Silent, efficient, his blade pressed to the manâs throat with a surgeonâs precision. His gaze was ice, unreadable, but the way he angled his body, between you and the intruder, was unmistakable.
âYou picked the wrong fire to crawl toward,â Sunghoon murmured, his voice so quiet it made the hairs at your neck stand on end. The man stammered, sweat beading faster. Jakeâs gun didnât waver, and Sunghoonâs knife kissed the skin at his throat until a bead of blood welled.
âGo,â Jake finally said. His drawl was gone, cut down to pure steel. âRun. If youâre still breathinâ by the time the sunâs up, itâll be by Godâs mercy, not ours.â
The man stumbled back, tripping over his own boots before disappearing into the trees, crashing loud through the underbrush. Silence fell heavy.
Jake holstered his gun slow, then turned on you. His grin returned, faint but crooked, his hat shadowing his eyes. He crouched down low until his face was level with yours. âYou alright, pretty thing?â His voice had softened again, sweet as molasses, though the steel still lingered beneath.
Sunghoon didnât kneel. He just stood close, blade cleaned and tucked away, his gaze fixed on you. But you saw the shift, the faint unclenching of his jaw, the way his hand hovered like he wasnât sure if he should touch your shoulder.
Your heart hammered. The fire crackled. You managed the smallest nod. Jakeâs smile widened, boyish again, though it didnât hide the dark look he shared with Sunghoon over your head. It said what neither of them needed to:
You werenât just the girl with the treasure anymore. You were theirs.
ââââââ
The fire was still crackling when the silence finally broke. Your breath hadnât steadied yet, heart hammering against your ribs as though it was trying to escape, and your fingers trembled where they clutched your skirts. You could still feel the ghost of that outlawâs hand on your jaw, the leer in his voice, and yet the space he left behind was filled just as quickly, by them.
Jake crouched lower, grin tugging at his mouth though his eyes still burned dark. He reached out, a gloved finger tipping your chin up until your eyes met his. âTold ya, darlinâ,â he murmured, voice soft but dangerous, âainât nothinâ out here that gets to touch whatâs ours.â
The words seared into your skin, hotter than the fire, and your lips parted before you could stop yourself. Ours.
Sunghoon said nothing, but the way he lingered just behind Jake spoke louder than words. His shadow stretched long across the firelight, his body angled between you and the tree line like a sentinel. His knife was already tucked away, but you had no doubt he could have it at someoneâs throat again before they blinked.
The tension clung long after the man was gone. You tried to inch back toward your own bedroll, desperate for some kind of space, but Jake clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
âMm-mm. Not tonight, pretty thing.â He tipped his hat back, eyes glinting with mischief and something far hungrier. âWe canât afford to lose the treasure, now can we? Best you keep close. Safer that way.â
Your heart skipped, and before you could argue, Sunghoonâs voice cut in, low, flat, and absolute. âHeâs right. You sleep separate, youâre a target. We stay together. No exceptions.â
The finality in his tone left no room to protest. In seconds, Jake had dragged his bedroll closer, his hands busy with rope and leather as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He tugged you down between them, the heat of their bodies already closing in.
The smell hit you first, smoke in Jakeâs hair, the sharp tang of gun oil on Sunghoonâs coat, the leather and sweat clinging to both of them. Their bodies radiated heat like furnaces, surrounding you until the cold mountain air felt far away.
Jakeâs arm was the first to drape over you, heavy and possessive, his gloved fingers splaying wide at your hip. âDonât fret, sugar,â he drawled near your ear, his breath hot against your skin. âJust makinâ sure you donât freeze. Canât have my pretty thing shiverinâ when sheâs supposed to be leadinâ us to gold.â
But his hand lingered, longer than necessary, pressing firmer than casual. Each brush of his thumb sent a tremor racing up your spine.
On your other side, Sunghoon lay stiff, his muscles tense as iron beneath the fabric of his shirt. He faced the fire, jaw clenched so tight you could hear his teeth grind when Jakeâs hand slid a little lower on your waist. His self-control was a blade honed too fine, threatening to snap with the smallest pressure.
You were hyper-aware of everything, the rasp of Jakeâs glove slipping beneath the edge of your blouse, the steady weight of Sunghoonâs breathing, the way their heat pinned you in place.
And this was just the beginning.
ââââââ
The desert night pressed cold against your exposed skin, but the heat trapped between their bodies kept you from shivering. If anything, you were suffocating, smothered in leather and smoke, in the steady weight of two men who never seemed to look away.
You tried to close your eyes, to pretend you could rest, but every small detail made it impossible.
Jakeâs arm draped around your middle like it had been there forever. His palm rested firm on your hip, fingers curling ever so slightly each time you exhaled. He smelled of tobacco and sweat, that warm, heady scent that clung stubbornly to your lungs. Each breath of his brushed your ear, his lips close enough you swore heâd touch you if he moved an inch.
On your other side, Sunghoon was a wall of restraint. His posture hadnât relaxed once, muscles wound taut as a bowstring. His breathing was shallow, controlled, but you could feel the minute shifts of his body every time Jakeâs thumb stroked across your waist. The firelight cut sharp shadows into his face, catching the steel in his eyes when they flicked toward you. He didnât speak, but his silence screamed. The minutes stretched unbearably long.
âYouâre real quiet, pretty thing,â Jake finally murmured, voice husky, dragging over your skin like smoke. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, deliberate. âAinât scared of us, are you?â
Your throat worked, but words tangled before they could form. Jake chuckled, low and pleased, and let his thumb slide higher, stroking the edge of your ribs now, dangerously close to the curve of your breast.
âSee, Hoon?â Jakeâs tone sharpened, smug. âTold ya sheâd get used to us. Donât even flinch no more.â
Sunghoon didnât answer, but his jaw flexed, teeth grinding audibly. His hand twitched against the bedroll, fingers curling into a fist when Jakeâs knuckles brushed just under the swell of your breast. You felt everything, every scrape of leather, every hot breath at your ear, every tremor running through Sunghoonâs restraint.
Jake leaned closer, his grin pressed against your cheek. âWarm enough, darlinâ? Or you want me to get a little closer?â
His hand slipped lower, settling with dangerous familiarity over the curve of your stomach. He didnât move further, not yet, but the weight of his palm there made your skin burn.
Sunghoon exhaled sharply, a sound caught between a growl and a warning. âJake.â The name cut through the night like a blade, sharp and edged. But Jake only laughed, soft and amused, fingers tightening possessively at your waist.
And you, caught between them, felt like prey trapped under twin gazes. One playful, one ruthless. Both hungry.
Jakeâs thumb brushed higher, grazing bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. The touch was hot, unhurried, deliberate. You sucked in a breath, and his smile curved against your cheek like heâd been waiting for that sound.
âThatâs it, pretty thing,â he whispered, accent thick, words dragging slow. âAinât no need to hold your breath around me.â
His fingers slipped under the fabric with shameless ease, palm flattening against your stomach. Heat spread in every direction, your pulse hammering so loud you were sure both men could hear it.
You shifted without meaning to, a tiny arch of your back that pressed you closer into him. Jakeâs chest rumbled with satisfaction.
On your other side, Sunghoonâs stillness finally fractured. He shifted an inch closer, just enough for his thigh to brush yours under the blanket. The touch was fleeting, hesitant, like he hated himself for it. But when you didnât recoil, when you stayed pressed between them, he let out a breath that sounded almost like defeat.
Jakeâs hand roamed higher, fingertips skating just under the curve of your breast. You couldnât help the tiny gasp that escaped. That was when Sunghoon moved. His hand, cooler, steadier, settled on your arm. Barely there. Just a brush of his knuckles against your skin. Tender, cautious, in stark contrast to Jakeâs shameless claiming.
The duality unraveled you, Jakeâs bold hunger, Sunghoonâs reluctant gentleness. One fire, one steel. Both pulling you apart.
Jakeâs grin widened, knowing. âFeel that, darlinâ? Hoon canât keep his hands off ya neither.â
Sunghoonâs jaw tightened, but he didnât pull away. His thumb stroked once over the back of your hand, the smallest gesture of comfort, of claim. âYou should sleep,â Sunghoon muttered, voice low, almost a growl. But his hand stayed.
And Jakeâs kept wandering. Jakeâs hand slid higher until his palm cupped you fully, fingers squeezing with a boldness that stole the air from your lungs. The thin cotton of your bra did nothing to dull the heat of his touch; every stroke of his thumb over your nipple made it tighten, straining against the fabric.
A whimper caught in your throat before you could swallow it down. Jake chuckled, low and victorious. âThatâs my girl,â he murmured, voice molten honey, his lips brushing your ear. âSo soft. So damn sweet. Knew youâd sound pretty when I touched ya.â
He kneaded lazily, thumb circling, dragging you higher with every calculated graze. Your whole body was on fire, trapped between his brazen hand and the heavy weight of Sunghoonâs stare.
Because Sunghoon was watching. You could feel it, his restraint unraveling thread by thread. His breaths had gone shallow, jaw tight, but his hand hadnât left yours. His thumb still stroked your skin, slow, shaky.
Until it stopped. And then, he moved. His hand slid up your arm, deliberate this time, tracing the line of your shoulder before settling at your waist. The grip was firm, almost possessive, pulling you subtly back against him.
Jake smirked against your cheek, feeling the shift. âTook you long enough, partner.â
âShut up,â Sunghoon bit out, voice rough, but his hand didnât leave you. It tightened, anchoring you against his chest as if to stake his claim. His body was tense, trembling with the force of restraint heâd finally let slip.
Caught between them, your skin felt too tight, every nerve raw. Jakeâs palm rolled over your breast again, thumb flicking your nipple through the fabric. Your hips shifted helplessly, pressing closer into the heat of Sunghoonâs body behind you.
The noise he made was sharp, low, a groan buried in his throat. His hand slid lower, fingers splaying across your stomach just beneath Jakeâs. Where Jake was shameless, teasing, Sunghoonâs touch was steadier, grounding.
But it burned just the same. Jakeâs grin pressed against your cheek as his hand finally slipped beneath the thin band of your bra. Skin to skin.
The shock of heat made you jolt, a sharp breath tearing out of you as his palm covered your bare breast. His thumb brushed over your nipple, soft at first, then firmer, teasing circles until it peaked hard against his touch.
âLord, darlinâ,â Jake drawled, the words low and reverent, thick with hunger. âFeelinâ you like this⊠sweeter than I dreamed.â His lips hovered so close you felt every word ghost hot against your ear.
You arched helplessly into him, heat spiraling low in your belly, every nerve alight. And then, Sunghoon moved. His hand, steady till now, slid lower from your waist. Down, over the curve of your hip, pausing at your thigh. He hesitated, just for a breath, knuckles grazing the fabric of your skirt. His jaw clenched hard, you could hear it, but restraint snapped in the silence of that moment.
His hand pushed further, fingers brushing along the inside of your thigh. Barely there at first, a whisper of contact that had your muscles tensing. When you didnât push him away, his grip firmed, spreading against sensitive skin, inching higher.
âFuck,â he muttered under his breath, raw, frustrated, like he hated himself even as his fingers stroked the tender flesh.
You were trembling, trapped between Jakeâs relentless hand kneading your breast, his thumb pinching and rolling your nipple, and Sunghoonâs palm pressing heat into your inner thigh. Two different fires, one playful and taunting, the other dark and restrained, but both burning you alive.
Jake chuckled again, all shameless satisfaction. âSheâs shakinâ for us, Hoon. Feels it bad, donât ya, pretty thing?â He gave your nipple another teasing roll, making you gasp. âBet youâd beg if I asked real nice.â
Sunghoonâs breath hitched, his hand tightening on your thigh, creeping higher, grazing dangerously close to where you ached most. He leaned closer, voice low in your ear, rougher than Jakeâs honeyed drawl. âStop talkinâ,â he ground out. But his hand didnât stop moving.
And you, you couldnât breathe. Couldnât think. Couldnât decide if you wanted Jake to push further, or Sunghoon to finally close the last bit of distance.
Jakeâs hand didnât stop at your breast. It slipped lower, dragging heat down your ribs, down the soft dip of your waist, until his fingertips hooked into the edge of your waistband.
âMm,â he hummed, smug and sweet. âAinât fair, keepinâ me waitinâ when youâre already burninâ up for us.â His fingers slid just beneath the band, teasing the heat of bare skin, brushing maddeningly close to where you ached.
You gasped, thighs instinctively squeezing shut, only to be caught by Sunghoon.
Because his hand was there. Firm between your thighs, palm pressing against your core through the thin fabric of your underwear. He didnât move at first, just let you writhe against the solid heat of his hand, his breath ragged behind you. Then, slowly, deliberately, his fingers brushed, stroking the damp spot already spreading beneath. The whimper that tore out of you shattered what little restraint he had left.
With a guttural sound, Sunghoonâs hand left your thighs, only to grip your jaw and wrench you back against him. His mouth crushed onto yours in a kiss that was all hunger, no hesitation. His lips devoured yours, tongue forcing past your lips as if to taste every sound you made.
The world tilted, sparking white behind your eyes. âMine,â Sunghoon growled against your mouth, kissing you again, rougher, bruising. âYou hear me? Youâre mine, just as much as his.â
Jakeâs chuckle rumbled against your skin, his fingers still teasing low at your waistband. âWell, ainât that sweet. Looks like we finally agree on somethinâ, partner.â His other hand pinched your nipple sharply, making you moan into Sunghoonâs mouth. âSheâs ours.â
Sunghoon swallowed your cries, his kiss turning softer for a split second, almost tender, before he pulled you tighter against his chest, possessive, unwilling to let go.
Between Jakeâs fingers slipping lower and Sunghoonâs mouth claiming you, you were lost, caught between them, wanted by both, consumed whole.
The kiss broke only because Jakeâs hand slipped beneath your panties, fingers stroking your folds with bold, unhurried sweeps. The heat of his touch had you jerking, breaking against Sunghoonâs lips with a desperate cry.
âChrist almighty,â Jake murmured, voice dripping honeyed satisfaction as he slid one thick finger inside you. The stretch had you gasping, clutching at both of them, but he only smirked. âTight as a drum. Youâre squeezinâ me already, darlinâ.â
Sunghoon growled low, catching your jaw again and forcing you to meet his eyes in the firelight. âDonât you dare fall apart for him alone.â His hand fisted in your hair, dragging your head back so he could kiss you again, fierce and claiming.
Jakeâs finger crooked deep, pressing that perfect spot until your thighs trembled. He added a second without warning, scissoring you open, your slick dripping down his palm. His grin curved sharp as he kissed your ear.
âYouâre gonna take me, pretty thing,â Jake drawled, thrusting his fingers harder until your breath stuttered. âGonna ride me like the sweet little whore you were made to be.â
The words burned, filthy and hot, and before you could recover, they were moving you. Jake leaned back against the bedroll, cock already straining against his trousers as he yanked them open. Thick. Long. Heavy veins standing out as he stroked himself lazily, eyes locked on you.
âCâmon,â he said, voice low and coaxing. âClimb on. Donât keep me waitinâ.â
Sunghoon shoved you down toward him, though his own belt was already undone, cock flushed and angry-red. He pulled your head to his lap, his hand tight in your hair. âWhile youâre ridinâ him,â he muttered darkly, âyouâll suck me. Youâre gonna learn how to take both of us.â
Your head spun, body already wrecked from their touches, but Jakeâs hands gripped your hips, guiding you down, forcing you to sink onto him. The stretch was brutal, splitting you apart on his cock, every inch making you cry out.
âThatâs it,â Jake groaned, head falling back, eyes rolling as your walls clenched around him. âThatâs it, ride me, pretty thing. Work that sweet cunt for me.â His hands dragged you up and down, setting the brutal rhythm himself, bouncing you on his cock until slick dripped down his thighs. At the same time, Sunghoon pulled your mouth onto him, shoving his cock past your lips, down your throat. His hips snapped forward, fucking into your mouth with sharp, precise thrusts.
âDonât slack,â he hissed, the words strained, fingers tightening in your hair. âOpen wider, fuck, just like that.â Their voices tangled, Jakeâs low moans and Sunghoonâs harsh curses, both of them using you, both refusing to yield.
Jake spanked your ass, a sharp crack that made you clench tighter around him. âSheâs squeezinâ me like heaven, Hoon. Bet you wish you were in here instead.â
Sunghoon snarled, shoving himself deeper into your throat until tears pricked your eyes. âDonât worry. Sheâll get my cock next. Weâre gonna take turns till she canât even remember her name.â
You were wrecked, overstimulated, yet held so carefully in their grip, Jake steadying your hips when you faltered, Sunghoon stroking your cheek even as he thrust into your mouth. Rough and protective, claiming every inch of you.
Your body burned, split between them, Jakeâs cock pounding up into you while Sunghoon used your mouth like it was made for him. Every thrust stole sound from your throat, every bounce on Jakeâs lap wrung slick out of you. You were undone, tears streaking your cheeks, spit dripping down your chin, moans muffled by the cock stretching your mouth.
Jake groaned loud, his hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back just enough for him to watch your face. âLook at her, Hoon. Cryinâ on your cock while she squeezes me tighter than a goddamn vice.â He slammed you down harder, the crack of your thighs meeting his echoing through camp. âShe loves it. Loves ridinâ me like this.â
Sunghoon snarled, pulling free from your mouth with a wet pop. Strings of spit clung to your lips as he grabbed your face, forcing you to meet his dark, furious eyes. âMove over, Jake. My turn.â
Jake smirked, still buried deep inside you. âThink you can do better?â
Instead of answering, Sunghoon shoved him hard by the shoulder, pushing him back onto the blankets. His hands clamped your hips and lifted you off Jakeâs cock despite your whimper, turning you and bending you forward onto your hands and knees.
Before you could catch a breath, he slammed into you from behind, the force of it knocking a broken cry out of your chest.
âFuck,â Sunghoon groaned, head tipping back, voice rough and ragged. âSheâs so tight. So wet.â His thrusts were ruthless, snapping his hips against your ass until you jolted forward with every stroke. âYou think youâre the only one sheâll come for, Jake? Watch me ruin her.â
Jake leaned on his elbow, smirking lazily as he stroked his still-hard cock, watching the way your body took Sunghoonâs brutal pace. âSheâs already ruined for me, partner. I broke her open. Youâre just ridinâ what I primed.â
Sunghoonâs hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so you arched for him. His teeth sank into your shoulder, possessive, sharp, as he fucked you deeper. âYouâre mine,â he growled against your skin. âSay it.â
Before you could even form the word, Jake was there, kneeling in front of you, shoving his cock back into your mouth. âSheâs ours,â he corrected with a smug grin. âAinât that right, pretty thing? Ours to use, ours to keep.â
The camp echoed with the wet slap of flesh, with your muffled cries, with their overlapping voices, Jakeâs honeyed coaxing, Sunghoonâs harsh commands.
You gagged on Jake as Sunghoon bottomed out inside you, his hips grinding against your ass. He groaned sharp and guttural, rutting into you with a possessiveness that made your head spin.
âGonna fill her,â Sunghoon snarled, words broken between thrusts. âGonna fuck my claim so deep sheâll never forget.â
Jakeâs laugh was low, dark, fingers curling in your hair as he thrust into your throat. âThen Iâll fuck it outta her after. See whose cock she begs for next.â
You couldnât decide which burned more, the way Jake used you with cocky ease, or the way Sunghoon split you open with sharp desperation. All you knew was you were theirs. Completely, wholly, irrevocably.
And they werenât going to let you go until theyâd proven it.
Your body was wrecked, stretched raw between them, Jakeâs cock filling your throat, Sunghoonâs rutting deep into your cunt, the two of them using you like you were made to be shared.
Sunghoonâs pace grew erratic, sharp thrusts losing their rhythm as his groans spilled ragged and unrestrained. His fingers dug bruises into your hips, holding you steady as he buried himself again and again.
âFuckââ he gasped, the word low and guttural. âIâm gonna, shitââ
Jake shoved deeper into your throat, cutting him off with your gagged cry. âDo it,â he drawled, voice dripping with cocky triumph. âFill her up, partner. Mark her good. Sheâll still be milkinâ my cock after youâre done.â
That was all it took, Sunghoon slammed into you one last time, cock throbbing as he spilled inside you with a hoarse, broken groan. His hips ground hard against your ass, shoving every drop deeper while your walls clenched tight around him, pulling more out of him.
The sensation made you convulse, slick gushing down your thighs as your orgasm ripped through you, violent and consuming. You screamed around Jakeâs cock, your whole body trembling, collapsing forward if not for their hands anchoring you.
Jake hissed, hips jerking as your throat squeezed him tight. âOh, sweet Christ, thatâs itââ His cock twitched, and then he was spilling hot down your throat, his hand fisted in your hair keeping you there as he groaned long and loud. âSwallow, pretty thing. Take it all.â
You did, choking on it, tears spilling down your cheeks as you gulped every drop. Sunghoon groaned behind you, still grinding slow, fucking his cum deeper into your sore cunt.
By the time Jake pulled out of your mouth, sticky strings clinging to your lips, you were shaking, boneless between them.
Sunghoon caught you first, dragging you back against his chest, still buried inside you as if he couldnât bear to let go. Jake lowered himself beside you, brushing sweat-slick hair from your face, his grin softer now.
âHell,â Jake panted, voice rough but tender now. âAinât never had it that good.â He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering. âYouâre ours, pretty thing. You hear me?â
Sunghoonâs lips pressed to the back of your neck, a rare, fragile sweetness in the way he whispered, âOurs.â His arm wrapped around your waist, hand stroking gently where moments before it had been ruthless.
The fire crackled low. The desert night pressed quiet around you, broken only by their uneven breathing. And as your eyes fluttered shut, you felt them both holding you, tight, protective, unwilling to let you go.
Their whispers blurred as sleep pulled you under. Promises. Sweet nothings. The outlaw drawl of Jakeâs honey voice tangled with Sunghoonâs low, sharp certainty.
And for the first time in forever, you didnât feel alone.
ââââââ
You woke to warmth. Not the thin desert sun leaking through the tent canvas, but the heavy, smothering kind of warmth that came from being cocooned between two bodies much larger than yours.
Your thighs ached, your lips were raw, your entire body throbbed like youâd been dragged behind a galloping horse for miles. Except instead of rope burn and dust, you were slick with their sweat, their scent, the dried mess of what theyâd left in you.
You shifted slightly, and hissed when Sunghoonâs softened cock slid against your overstretched walls, still sheathed inside you.
âCareful,â his low voice came immediately, awake even if his eyes werenât open. His arm tightened around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. âDonât move. Youâll hurt yourself.â
Jake stirred on your other side, lazy grin spreading across his face when he cracked an eye open. âMorninâ, pretty thing.â His voice was rough, still deep with sleep, and unfairly charming. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your jaw before murmuring against your skin, âDidnât dream it, huh? We really fucked you stupid.â
You flushed, pressing your face into Sunghoonâs arm. He huffed, lips brushing the back of your neck, muttering like he couldnât help himself. âIdiot. Donât say it like that.â
âWhat?â Jake teased, shifting closer until his chest was flush with yours. His hand slipped under the blanket, brushing across your belly with lazy familiarity. âAinât my fault she was ridinâ me so pretty, moaninâ like she was born for it. Damn near cried begginâ for more.â
Your breath stuttered at the memory, body already twitching despite your soreness.
Sunghoon groaned, forehead pressing against your shoulder like he was trying to ground himself. âYouâre shameless.â But his hand betrayed him, sliding down to cup your thigh, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your tender skin. âSheâs exhausted. Donât rile her up again.â
Jake smirked, clearly enjoying Sunghoonâs restraint cracking. âFunny, cominâ from the man who nearly fucked her unconscious.â
Your cheeks burned hotter. âYouâre bothââ your voice cracked, hoarse from last night, ââawful.â
Jake laughed softly, then kissed the corner of your mouth. âAwful sweet on you, you mean.â
Sunghoon only hummed in agreement, holding you tighter, as if you might disappear. His voice was quieter, rough with honesty when he added, âNot lettinâ you out of my sight again.â
The silence stretched, heavy but strangely comforting. The fire outside had died to ash, the desert morning crisp and biting, but inside the tent, you were swaddled in heat, in them.
Jake broke it first, chuckling low. âWell, treasure huntinââs gonna be a bitch now. She wonât be able to walk straight.â
âJake,â Sunghoon warned, but you could hear the reluctant amusement under his sharp tone.
âGuess Iâll just carry her,â Jake said, grinning wickedly at your groan. âWouldnât mind it. Sheâs light. Could sling her over my shoulder easy.â
You smacked his chest weakly, mumbling, âYouâre insufferable.â
He only laughed harder, kissing your temple. âAnd youâre ours. Thatâs what matters.â
Sunghoon didnât argue this time. He simply pressed another kiss to the back of your neck, whispering it like a vow.
âOurs.â
ââââââ
Jake was the first to move, stretching his arms overhead until his back cracked, his shirt riding up to reveal the golden ridges of his abdomen. The outlaw grin he shot you over his shoulder was as shameless as ever, eyes half-lidded with sleep but glinting with something that made your knees feel unsteady.
Sunghoon was quieter, as always, but no less watchful. Heâd already saddled the horses, movements sharp and precise, his scarf pulled up over his mouth against the chill. His eyes cut toward you once, just once, lingering with an unreadable weight before flicking away. But the fact heâd strapped your bag securely to the saddle, adjusted your stirrups without a word, told you more than his silence ever could.
Your thighs ached from the night before, each step a reminder of their hands, their mouths, the way theyâd claimed you. You tried to mask it, but Jake noticed anyway. He always noticed.
âAw, sugar,â he murmured, sweeping closer, his gloved hand settling warm against your lower back. âYa can barely walk straight.â His grin widened when you bristled, pressing your lips into a thin line. âCould just toss ya on my saddle. Wouldnât mind keepinâ you close in front of me all day.â
âJake.â Sunghoonâs voice was sharper than the desert air. His eyes flicked to you, then to Jake, cold but steady. âShe can ride on her own.â
âDidnât say she couldnât,â Jake shot back, smirking. âJust said Iâd like it better if she rode with me.â
You mounted your horse before either of them could argue further, cheeks hot, hands trembling slightly against the reins. Both men watched you, Jake openly admiring, Sunghoon with quiet intensity. When you finally guided your horse forward, their own horses fell into step on either side of you like instinct, one flanking left, the other right.
The desert stretched on endlessly, the morning sun climbing higher until the earth shimmered with heat. Canyons carved sharp shadows across the land, and the air grew thinner as the path rose toward the mountain pass. Hours blurred together, the rhythmic clop of hooves and the jingling of gun belts the only sound.
For the first time since youâd been taken, you felt⊠lighter. Almost safe.
ââââââ
Jake filled the silence easily, talking about the land, about nothing at all, grinning every time he drew a reluctant smile from you. He teased you for the way you squinted at the horizon, for the way you fiddled with your reins, for the way you hid your laugh behind your hand.
Sunghoon, though, was your shadow. Every time the trail narrowed along the canyon cliffs, he maneuvered his horse so that he was closest to the edge, shielding you without a word. When you slowed on the rocky incline, his hand brushed your ankle, steadying you before you could slip.
By the time the sun had begun to sink, staining the sky in amber and rose, youâd crossed the worst of the desert and reached the jagged mouth of the final pass. The mountains loomed high, dark against the horizon.
They called the night earlier than usual, knowing the trail ahead would be treacherous in darkness. Jake gathered wood, whistling low, while Sunghoon built the fire with efficient hands. You sat close, knees pulled to your chest, watching sparks spit into the night.
You were hyper aware of everything, the scrape of Sunghoonâs knife against flint, the soft creak of Jakeâs leather gloves as he tore strips of jerky, the way their shadows loomed against the rock.
When they settled across from you, the fire crackling between, Jake leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. His eyes glowed amber in the firelight, smile slower now, softer.
âYâknow, pretty thing,â he drawled, âyou ainât gotta look at us like weâre gonna bite.â
You swallowed, throat dry. âYou already did.â
Jake chuckled, low and warm. âFair point.â
Sunghoonâs gaze didnât waver from you, sharp as always, but there was something else beneath it now, something gentler, reluctant but undeniable. His voice was quieter when he spoke. âWeâre not your enemies.â
Your breath caught. For the first time since youâd left town, you let yourself look at them, not just at the hats and gloves, the guns and belts, the shadows they wore like second skin. But at Jakeâs crooked smile, at the warmth in Sunghoonâs eyes that contradicted his words, at the way both of them had placed themselves between you and danger, over and over again.
It terrified you more than their guns ever had. âThen what are you?â you whispered, almost too soft for the crackle of fire to catch.
Neither answered immediately. Jake tilted his head, eyes narrowing like he was weighing the truth. Sunghoonâs jaw clenched, the muscle twitching, his restraint taut as bowstring.
Finally, Jake leaned closer, his grin flickering but his voice steady. âGuess that depends, sugar. You leadinâ us âcause you want the gold⊠or âcause you want us?â
The fire popped, the sound sharp in the silence. Your lips parted, your heart hammering so loud you swore they could hear it. Sunghoonâs voice was low, almost rough. âAnswer him.â
The words left you before you could swallow them back. âBoth.â The world stilled. Jakeâs grin spread slow, hungry, but there was something softer tucked in the corners of it. Sunghoon exhaled sharply through his nose, eyes closing for a beat like heâd been holding his breath too long.
When you looked away, flustered, Jake chuckled, reaching across the fire to tilt your chin up with one gloved finger. âKnew it. Always knew you were sweet on us.â Sunghoon didnât argue this time. He only stared at you across the flames, his gaze scorching in its silence, as if memorizing every line of your face.
And for the first time, you didnât feel like their captive at all.
ââââââ
The mountains rose sharp and merciless, jagged teeth silhouetted against a bruised sky. The trail narrowed until it was no more than a ledge carved into stone, a drop yawning black and endless at your side. Every step of your horse made your stomach twist, hooves clattering too close to the edge.
Jake rode ahead, reins loose but gaze sharp, scanning the shadows like he expected the rocks themselves to turn hostile. His red scarf fluttered against the wind, the dark sweep of his hat cutting a bold figure against the ridge.
Sunghoon rode behind you, close, too close. Every shift of your horse, you felt his presence at your back, the metallic click of his revolver safety flicked on and off as his hand lingered near the holster.
The air grew colder the higher you climbed, thin and dry, stinging your lungs. The smell of dust was sharper now, mixed with the acrid tang of iron-rich stone. Silence pressed in, broken only by the groan of leather saddles and the faint whistle of wind through the canyons.
Your skin prickled. Every sound seemed amplified, the rattle of loose pebbles, the creak of shifting stone.
That was when you heard it. A dry hiss. Before your mind caught up, Sunghoonâs voice sliced the air. âDonât move.â
Your heart lurched. You froze, glancing down, and there it was, coiled near your stirrup, scales glinting dull bronze in the dying light. A rattlesnake, its tail vibrating in a shiver of menace.
Your breath caught in your throat. Jake had already turned his horse, drawing his revolver with practiced ease, but Sunghoon was faster, his hand flashing, the crack of his gunshot echoing like thunder.
The snakeâs head snapped back, body twitching, then fell limp on the rocks. Smoke curled from Sunghoonâs barrel, his eyes still fixed cold and sharp on the corpse.
âJesus,â Jake muttered, sliding his gun back. His eyes flicked to you, softening. âYou alright, pretty thing?â
You nodded shakily, though your chest heaved, hands trembling against the reins.
Sunghoon urged his horse closer until his knee brushed your boot. His gaze lingered, unreadable but intense, before he finally spoke, voice low. âKeep your eyes forward. Donât miss the ground beneath you.â
The rest of the trail was no kinder.
Loose stones tumbled from under your horseâs hooves, clattering into the abyss. Shadows shifted in the canyon walls, every crack a threat. When the wind picked up, sharp enough to sting your eyes, Jake reached back without looking and caught your hand against his hip, grounding you until the gusts died down.
Hours blurred, danger a constant hum. Once, a boulder gave way on the upper ridge, crashing down with a roar. Jake spurred forward, dragging your horse along with his, while Sunghoon fired warning shots into the canyon to scatter whoever, or whatever, had disturbed it.
Every time fear clenched your chest, they were there. Jakeâs grin, quick and reassuring, even when sweat beaded on his temples. Sunghoonâs silence, heavy but steady, like iron at your back.
By the time you stopped for the night, your body was humming with exhaustion and adrenaline. Your hands still shook as you dismounted, nearly stumbling when your boots hit the rocky ground.
Jake caught you instantly, strong hands locking around your waist. âCareful, darlinâ,â he drawled, softer now, lips brushing close to your ear. âAinât no use fallinâ âfore we even reach that treasure.â
Sunghoonâs shadow loomed just behind, gaze dark as ever but sharp with something else, something protective, possessive. His voice was quiet, but it left no room for argument. âStay between us. Always.â
And you realized, standing there in the cold mountain wind, that the treasure wasnât the only thing they were guarding like hell itself wanted to take it.
ââââââ
The ghost town came into view like a mirage, weathered wood frames leaning into the wind, windows hollow, roofs sagging under the years. The silence there was heavier than the mountain air, pressing down on you until you swore you could hear your own heartbeat echo.
Jake slowed first, pulling his horse to a stop in the center of what once might have been a main street. His hat tipped low against the sun, but his eyes swept sharp over every shadow. Sunghoon rode close at your back, his posture taut, every muscle drawn like a bowstring.
âThis it?â Jake asked, voice casual, but there was an edge to it, like a man who already knew the answer.
You slid from your horse, legs trembling as your boots hit the cracked dirt. The air smelled of old wood and dust, a place forgotten by everyone but you. You led them past the skeletal remains of buildings, your fingers tracing the edges of collapsed fences, until you stopped before what had once been a general store. Its roof was half-caved, the windows broken, but the floorboards creaked under your step, still solid.
You knelt, pressing your palm flat to the warped wood. âHere,â you whispered, throat dry. âUnderneath.â
Jake crouched beside you, his gloved fingers sliding over the boards. With one sharp tug, he pried them loose. Dust exploded upward, making you cough, and the hollow beneath revealed itself, an old chest, iron-rimmed, its surface scarred but unbroken.
For a moment, none of you moved.
Then Sunghoon stepped forward, his shadow stretching long over the chest. He crouched low, pried it open with the flat of his knife. The hinges groaned, and inside lay exactly what youâd promised, piles of coins, dull with age but heavy with worth, alongside a scatter of gold bars and jewelry stolen decades ago.
The breath youâd been holding rushed out of you all at once. Youâd led them here. The secret your uncle had entrusted to you, Jed Cartwrightâs last stash, lay exposed under the outlaw moon.
And now, you werenât sure if youâd live to see another sunrise. The silence that followed was deafening. Jakeâs eyes gleamed gold in the dim light, but his grin didnât reach them. Sunghoonâs expression was unreadable, knife still in hand, his gaze flicking from the treasure to you.
âSo,â you said, your voice breaking the tension, fragile as glass. âIs this⊠is this the end?â
Jakeâs grin faltered. His head tilted, and he let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. âDarlinââŠâ His voice came soft, almost tender, but laced with something sad. He glanced at Sunghoon, then back at you. âYou really think we went through hell anâ back just for a pile of gold?â
Your chest tightened. âIsnât that why you took me?â
Sunghoonâs jaw flexed, his eyes locking on yours with a quiet intensity that burned. âAt first,â he admitted, voice low and rough. He sheathed his knife with a sharp click, like finality. âNot anymore.â
Jake chuckled, but there was no bite in it this time. He leaned forward, bracing a hand against the floorboards beside you, close enough that his warmth brushed your arm. âWe ainât after the gold anymore, pretty thing.â His drawl lingered, softer than it had ever been, carrying more truth than a man like him shouldâve been able to speak.
The confession cracked something open inside you. You looked from Jakeâs shameless smirk, softened at the edges, to Sunghoonâs sharp gaze, steady but unguarded for the first time.
Your throat tightened. âThen what happens now?â
For a moment, neither answered. The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of what could have been, what should have been if theyâd been the outlaws they pretended to be. They could kill you, leave you, take everything. That was the story youâd prepared for.
But when Jake reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a touch uncharacteristically gentle, and Sunghoon stepped closer, close enough that his presence pressed into you like a shield, you realized that story had already ended miles ago.
âYouâre ours,â Sunghoon said simply, firmly, like it was fact carved into stone.
Jake grinned, tilting his hat back just enough for you to see the sincerity in his eyes. âAnâ weâre yours. Both of us. Donât matter if thereâs a fortune sittinâ right there.â
You laughed then, wet, shaky, but real. Relief and affection crashed over you all at once, so overwhelming it made your chest ache. âYouâre impossible,â you whispered.
âMaybe,â Jake drawled, shrugging, before tipping his forehead against yours. âBut you ainât gettinâ rid of us now.â
Sunghoonâs hand came to rest at your waist, steady and grounding, his thumb brushing just once in a motion so subtle you almost missed it. But it was enough to tell you what his words didnât. He wasnât going anywhere, either.
You stared at the chest full of gold, the treasure your father had sworn would save you when you were alone, and realized you werenât alone anymore. And for the first time since youâd been dragged out of town, you didnât care about the gold at all.
ââââââ
The chest stayed behind.
It sat there in the dust of the ghost town, iron hinges gaping wide, the dull gleam of treasure catching the last rays of sun. You didnât even look back when Jake kicked the boards back into place, covering it as if it had never been unearthed at all.
Instead, the three of you mounted up. Your horse snorted, hooves pawing impatiently at the cracked earth, but Jakeâs hands were steady as he helped you into the saddle. Sunghoon adjusted the stirrups one last time, silent as always, though his palm lingered against your ankle just a beat too long.
Then you were riding out, leaving the town swallowed in shadow, leaving no proof of you being there, the horizon stretched wide and endless before you.
The desert air had shifted, softer now, carrying the scent of sagebrush and smoke, cool against your cheeks. The sun bled itself out across the sky in a riot of color: scarlet fading into tangerine, gold slipping into deep indigo. The silhouettes of three riders stretched long against the earth, tangled together until you couldnât tell where one ended and the other began.
Jake rode close on your left, his hat tipped back, a grin tugging at his mouth as he watched you instead of the trail. âAinât it somethinâ, pretty thing? Feels like the whole damn worldâs waitinâ on us.â
You laughed softly, the sound bubbling out before you could stop it. Maybe it was the relief, or the dizzying freedom of it all, but for the first time, your voice didnât tremble when you answered. âFeels like itâs ours.â
Sunghoon, riding on your right, finally allowed the faintest curve of a smile to tug at his lips. His gaze flicked to Jake, then back to you, softer than the twilight. âThen letâs take it.â
The three of you rode on, laughter mingling with the sound of hooves striking hard earth. Jake told a joke that wasnât funny, and you giggled anyway, hiding your face in your hands. He leaned over, bumping his shoulder against yours, his chuckle warm and boyish. Sunghoon didnât laugh, but his eyes softened, a flicker of fondness he didnât bother disguising.
Somewhere along the trail, Jakeâs hand found yours, warm and sure. A little later, when the night deepened and the first stars began to prick the sky, Sunghoonâs hand brushed your other side, steadying you against the saddle as the path grew uneven. You didnât let go of either.
And so you rode, two outlaws and the girl they shouldâve left behind, bound not by gold but by something far heavier, far sweeter.
By the time the sun dipped fully beneath the horizon, you were nothing but three dark shapes swallowed by the dusk, laughter echoing like a promise across the wild, endless land.
The End.
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