#they really ruined me for the rest of my life

[ilovemitsuya]

Hiii!!! Can I request a ff where reader is sick and is trying to hide it from Sylus but he notices right away and insists he take care of her.

Unyielding Protection

summary : "I thought I could hide it-how sick I was getting in hopes of going on a proctocore business trip with Sylus. I didn't want to burden him, so l avoided him, hoping he wouldn't notice. But I should've known better.”

sylus x reader

The first signs were easy enough to ignore. A dull ache in my chest, a persistent weariness that clung to me no matter how much I rested. I told myself it was just stress, but as the days passed the symptoms grew worse. My strength began to wane, and the pain became harder to hide. I stared at my computer not noticing a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your screen for a while now.” I look over my shoulder to see Tara staring at me.

“I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.” I said as I looked away from her.

“I think you should take it easy. You’ve been overworking yourself a lot.” She thought for a moment, her finger resting on her chin. “I know! Me and the others are going to do karaoke you should join us.”

I thought about it for second. I could really use the time to go out but I couldn’t even speak, let alone sing. “I’m sorry can we do it next time?”

Tara put on a frown “Awh, next time you better go. Promise?”

I looked at her with a smile

“Promise.”

Besides, I’m meeting up with Sylus later on. Suddenly i remembered that he had a business trip he was talking about. He said I had to go but I can’t let him see me like this. Otherwise he would stay with me and not even go himself. It was an important trip I didn’t want to ruin it for him.

I knew Sylus would notice eventually.

He was too observant, too attuned to every detail of my life.

So I hid it. I avoided his gaze when I would have to excuse myself when the coughing fits became too intense. I thought I was being careful, and that I could keep this secret until I found a way to manage it on my own.

But I underestimated him.

╔══════╗

“You're late, sweetie." he said, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “If I had to wait any longer I would’ve sent Mephisto out looking for you.”

Sylus said leaning back on his motorcycle.

“Yeah, that won’t be necessary.”

Sylus gave me one last look before he threw a motorcycle helmet my way nearly dropping it.

He patted the seat behind him when he noticed I wasn’t moving.

I was way too tired to even move.

“Get on or I’m leaving without you.”

I snap out of my thoughts and quickly scram to sit behind him.

———-

At first it was subtle. A slight hesitation in her step, a flash of pain quickly masked by a practiced smile. Sylus watched her from the corner of his eye, his mind a whirlwind of calculations.

She was careful. Too careful. Avoiding his gaze when she thought he wasn't looking, suppressing coughs when she thought he wasn't listening. But Sylus knew. He always knew.

He sat in the chair by the window, the vastness of the space outside doing very little to calm his mind. His fingers tapped against the armrest, each tap a mark of his growing frustration. Something was wrong; he could feel it in his bones.

“Mephisto, keep a close eye on her.”

caw caw

She had been acting differently for days now. And while she thought she had done her best to hide it, Sylus was not one to be easily deceived.

╔══════╗

I knew he started watching me more closely. His eyes narrowing with that sharp, calculating look I knew so well. I could feel his suspicion growing, could sense the weight of his gaze on me even when I wasn't looking. But I kept up the act, clinging to the hope that I could keep him in the dark just a little longer.

Later that evening he barged in the room without warning, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. I looked up, startled, meeting his eyes only to see the truth in them - he knew.

"You're sick," Sylus stated, his voice low and void of the warmth he had once reserved for me.

For a moment, I tried to deflect, to brush it off as nothing. "What? I’m perfectly fine.” I said trying to hold in my cough. Perfect timing.

But it was the way the energy shifted in the room. The way he loomed over me with a commanding presence, his expression unreadable made it clear there was no escaping this. "Don't lie to me." he hissed, and the force of his words sent a shiver down my spine.

"You're hiding something."

I shook my head, standing to meet him. But there was a hesitation in my movements, a reluctance I couldn't fully hide. "No, I haven't. I've just been... tired. There's nothing to worry about."

But Sylus was done with her evasions.

He grabbed her wrist, not roughly, but firmly enough to stop her from retreating.

"Don't lie to me, Sweetie." he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

"Something's wrong. I can see it. You've been hiding it from me, and I want to know why."

I pulled my wrist from his grasp and took a step back, shaking my head. "It's nothing, Sylus. I'm fine.

You don't need to worry."

"Don't you dare try to shut me out," he growled, his tone sharper than he intended. "I know something is wrong, and I won't let you deny it."

Sylus thought she might continue to deny it. But then she crumbled, her shoulders slumping as she finally let her guard down.

"I've been feeling sick," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "It started a few days ago, and it's just been getting worse. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to let me go to that business trip with you.”

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a surprising gentleness.

“Is that what this is all about? You were hiding your sickness because you wanted me to let you go on the business trip?”

I leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in days. "Yes, I’m sorry.”

His expression hardened again, but there was a softness in his eyes that made my heart ache. "Well, you’re right, you’re not going."

“But I—“

“I’m canceling the trip. I’m staying here with you until you feel better.”

He looked back at me, and for a brief moment, I saw something tender in his gaze, something that reminded me why I had fallen for him in the first place.

“I knew something was wrong. Mephisto snitched you out.”

That damn bird.

"Let's get you to bed," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm. "You need to rest."

He picked me up bridal style and held me in his arms.

"I'm fine, Sylus. I don't need to be treated like-"

He silenced her with a look, one that she couldn’t argue against. "You need to rest," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "And I'm going to make sure you do."

Without waiting for her response, Sylus guided her toward the bed.

She hesitated for a moment, but the exhaustion was too much, and she allowed him to help her lie down.

Sylus moved with a surprising gentleness, adjusting the pillows and smoothing the blankets as he settled her in.

Once she was comfortable, he sat down beside she on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. His touch was soft, tender. A stark contrast to the man who ruled Onychinus with an iron fist.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his eyes studying her face with an intensity that was almost protective.

"You need to let me take care of you. You’re like a sick kitten who needs to be monitored."

I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

"I didn't want to worry you,"

Sylus's expression softened even further, his thumb gently tracing the outline of my cheek. "You worrying me by hiding things is worse," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you."

He leaned down, pressing his cheek to my forehead, lingering there for a moment as if he was attempting to strengthen me.

When he pulled back, my eyes were already starting to droop, the weight of the day finally catching up. But even as sleep began to claim me, I reached out, my hand finding his.

"Sylus," I murmured, voice drowsy. "Stay with me?"

"I'm not going anywhere,” he promised. His voice steady. He slipped under the blankets, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Sylus held her close, his fingers gently stroking her hair. He listened as her breathing slowly evened out, the tension in her body melting away as she drifted into sleep.

For a long time, Sylus simply watched her. His mind racing with plans for when she wakes up. As she slept, Sylus allowed himself to relax, the tight coil of worry in his chest loosening for the first time in days. He would take care of her, no matter what it took. Because she was worth protecting at all costs.

I’ll kiss anyone who requests

[rikiluvbot]

♯┆Helping Hand .ᐟ ★S.JY

「𖦹Synopsisᵎᵎ」You and your childhood best friend never had any issues talking about your sex life , be it embarrassing moments or humbling experiences , but you were curious — the way Jake was talking about how good it felt to have someone ride his dick made it seem like some mind blowing experience , an experience you've never had. Before you knew , your little "secret" slipped past your lips , wide puppy like eyes staring at you in surprise. Surely it wouldn't hurt for him to give you some help with that.

「𖦹Containsᵎᵎ」 nsfw (mdni),Childhood best friend!Jake , Big dick!Jake , cervix fucking , pet names, praising , Soft Dom!Jake , nipple play , Oral (F!rec), pussy drunk!Jake , a hint of possessiveness and obsession, unprotected sex , dirty talk , Hair pulling , dacryphilia, creampie

「𖦹Word countᵎᵎ」 2.5k

「𖦹Voice messageᵎᵎ」 Looks Familiar? It's a reupload from my former blog

"God that's horrible , did he at least make you cum?", Jake chuckled , leaning back into his couch after he had set his can of soda down on the coffee table. The two of you were currently talking about the hook up you had a couple days ago with some guy you met on a house party. "No , he didn't. I had to fake it. Look , he actually did a decent job with getting me close to coming but when I told him I was close , he suddenly switched up the pace to much faster and obviously that ruined my orgasm", you huffed a little , still feeling salty about it — you were greedy when it came to sex and pleasure , if the other participant was allowed to cum , why weren't you allowed to?

"Nah , that's the worst. He was probably one of those Frat boy jocks ,wasn't he?", your best friend could only laugh when he saw the expression you had on your face , your lips pursed in a thin line as you just stared back at him — that was all he needed to confirm he was right. "That reminds me , I had a hook up yesterday with a girl from Tinder — she rode me like a beast , it was crazy", you turned your head to look at him , your curiosity piping up — you've never ridden someone before , not because you didn't want to , but rather because you didn't know how. You were used to being the one always lying underneath , not on Top , so you lacked the experience of riding dick.

"Does it really feel that good for guys?", Jake hummed when he heard your question , running a hand through his hair to brush his bangs out of his face. "Not only for guys but for the ladies as well , they can control the pace and depth and can angle their hips in the right position to get their g spot stimulated", he reached his hand out to grab his can of soda again and before you knew it , your lips moved faster than you can think about what to reply. "I've never rode a dick before , I don't know how it feels", his hand froze for a second , staying in the air before he snapped out of it and grabbed his can. "Why? Did the guys you were with never let you?", You shook your head slightly , leaning back into the couch and pulling your knees up to your chest, resting your chin on top of your knees.

"I'm too embarrassed to try it out , I lack experience of riding dick. I'm so used to being underneath that I've never tried it out , like , being on top?", he made a small "ahh" sound before taking a huge gulp from his soda , his eyes glancing at you for a second before he looked away again. "I suppose you don't really trust the guys with that? Like , that you'd rather try it out with someone you trust and know since you're embarrassed to try it out with one of your hook ups, not wanting to make an embarrassment out of yourself?", you nodded as he practically concluded how you felt. His hand reached out to rest on your shoulder , avoiding eye contact with you as you looked at him. "I could teach you..?"

His lips were slowly moving against yours , not rushing into it since this was an intimate moment after all — his hands roaming your sides as you were perched up on his lap. His lips were just as soft and kissable as they looked , like two soft pillows interlocked with yours , moving so sensually and gently like as if you were a fine piece of porcelain. Your shirt was long discarded on his bedroom floor along with his own, his right calloused hand slowly sliding up your back — the tips of his fingers gliding along your spine before they came to a stop at the back of your bra. His nimble fingers experimentally unclasping your bra as he skillfully opened it with one hand , breaking the kiss with small heavy pants , his eyes watching the way the straps of your bra slowly slid down your shoulders — almost teasing him in a way.

His breath hitched as he hooked his fingers under the straps , pulling them completely down and letting your bra drop down between your bodies — your tits were so pretty , so soft looking with pretty nipples that just begged to get sucked on. "So pretty...", Jake was almost in a trance with the way his head was slowly inching down to your chest , his hand pressing against the small of your back to push you closer to him. "Can I..?", even if the two of you agreed to it and even if he did had your consent already , he was still going to ask — he wanted to make sure that you still 100% wanted this , he wouldn't get mad or disappointed if you were to change your mind , your body your choice. Upon seeing you nodding , he licked his lips because of how dry they've gotten before his plump lips latched onto one of your nipples, his left hand groping and playing with your other lump of fat he wasn't occupied with — his tongue sensually swirling around the nub that was starting to harden in his mouth , flicking the tip of his tongue against it before gently sucking on it.

He knew that everyone nipples had different levels of sensitivity , so he started slow and gentle to see how sensitives yours were to not cause you any pain — what a gentleman your best friend was. Your right hand moved from the back of his nap up to his hair , fingers tangled in the thick dark strands as you subconsciously pushed his head closer to your chest — his mouth switching to the other nipple , the cool air against your wet nipple causing a shiver to run down your spine. His right hand started to dance across your bare skin again , moving from the small of your back to your hips , teasingly slipping his fingers past the waistband of your sweatpants — toying with the elastic band of your panties.

"Jake....", you breathed out , your nipple starting to feel a little sore from the attention he was giving it , releasing the hard nub with a quiet "Pop" before pressing a soft kiss against it and mumbling a small apology. "(Y/n), I want you to sit on my face. I need to get you all nice and wet for my cock. I don't want to come off as bragging... but trust me, you'll need that prep , I don't want to hurt you", his words made you giggle a little , was he serious? Did he think that you couldn't handle cock? "You're making it sound like as if you're really huge", he just sheepishly smiled at you , obviously , you wouldn't know what a monster of a cock was hiding underneath his pants. "You'll see for yourself soon.... I still need you to sit on my face though, so chop chop", Jake ushered , slapping your ass gently to get you to lift your hips up — his hands moving to help you take off your sweatpants along with your panties.

Your face started to feel hot — it wasn't like as if this was the first time a guy undressed you or saw you naked, but for gods sake , this was your childhood best friend who grew up with you. This was a little embarrassing. "You're already so wet from just getting your cute little nipples played with... how cute", he mused , seeing the sticky strings of arousal going from your pussy to your panties as he pulled them down — a visibly wet patch soiling the fabric. "Oh shut it..", you huffed , slapping the back of his head gently which just made him laugh softly. He motioned for you to keep hovering over his lap , scooting down slightly to lay down flat on his back , grabbing ahold of your hips to move you closer to his face.

He clicked his tongue slightly when he saw the way you were hesitating to sit down on his face , his eyes focused on your glistening cunt. "Just sit your pretty ass down on my face , Jesus , I'm not going to suffocate", he joked , his hands moving from your hips to your thighs , gently caressing the soft flesh and giving them a gentle squeeze. You pondered a little before a small yelp escaped your lips as he pushed your thighs down , making you lower yourself on his face — his hot breath fanning your wet folds. "Such a pretty pussy.. can't believe you hid that from me", Jake murmured , his tongue slipping past his lips and between your folds — licking a stripe between them before placing a little kiss on your clit. He glanced up to you one more time just to watch your expression as he pressed his tongue flat against your clit , giving it a firm lick before he closed his eyes — ready to devour and enjoy his meal.

And god was making his tongue make you go crazy , pathetic little moans and pants escaping your lips — your hips desperately bucking up against his face , his nose bumping and rubbing against your clit as he slid his tongue into your drooling hole. Your hands were grasping onto his hair , pulling on the strands while he ate your sweet little cunt out like a starved men. He was skilled with his tongue , way more than just skilled — he was making you see stars. "Fuck... you taste so fucking sweet , such a sweet little pussy holy shit..", Jake mumbled , latching his plump lips around your clit against — sucking and swirling his tongue around it , flicking against it again as well before going back to flattening his tongue against it before drawing random shapes with the tip of his tongue on the bundle of nerves.

Your climax was approaching quickly , your brain left in such a daze that you couldn't even warm him — a loud cry of his name followed by a curse word falling from your lips , your slick covering his chin as he greedily licked every single drop you gave him. "Think you can still keep going..?", Jake asked between small pants , his cheeks flushed from the lack of his air , his lust filled eyes gazing up to you — following the way your body moved as you scooted back down to sit on his lap , amusement spreading on his face when he saw the way you froze. Something hard and long was pressing against your ass , turning your head a little to look back just to confirm what it was — Jake's hard cock was straining against the fabric of his sweatpants , he really wasn't lying when he said you'd need the prep. "Jesus fuck... what the fuck Jake..?", you mumbled , clearly intimidated yet impressed with his size — also , who would have thought that he'd get so hard just from eating you out.

"I warned you..", Jake replied, lifting his hips a little to slide his sweatpants along with his boxer shorts down to his ankles , using his feet to get at least one leg completely free — his hard cock springing free and slapping against your ass , his pre cum smearing against your skin from the contact. His cock was not only blessed in length , but also in girth — pretty veins running along the shaft, the bulbous head drooling with pre cum. Jake's hand moved to your hips again , lifting you up a little and moving you a little back before sitting you back down on his lap — his cock between your wet folds, your sensitive clit rubbing against his length as he subtly moved your hips back and forth. "You can still back out (Y/n) , if you feel too scared or don't want to anymore, I won't get mad or disappointed and completely understand", Jake reassured , rubbing his thumb into the skin of your hips — he knew his size scared a lot of girls , it was understandable , he was above average after all.

"Just a little more... fuck you're tight", Jake hissed , his fingers digging into your hips — his cock felt like as if it was getting suffocated , your velvet hugging his length so tightly. He was only half way in , your thighs trembling as you tried to keep yourself up. "The fuck you mean just a little more!", You huffed , a strangled moan escaping your lips as you lowered yourself down his length — the stretch burned but in such a good way , your body shivering and trembling as you finally had all of him inside you. You could feel him in your guts with how deep he was inside , his bulbous head pressing against your cervix. Jake wasn't doing any better , your pussy may just be the best one he was going to fuck — no scratch that , it was the best one.

"Take it easy pretty girl.. just go slow , I'll help you", Jake reassured , making sure your poor little cunt had adjusted to his cock — guiding your hands to grab onto the headboard of his bed so you had better balance as you slowly rolled your hips down against his. Fuck did you feel so full , full from just his cock alone — moans and whimpers falling from your lips as you slowly moved your hips. "Such a good girl .. taking me so well , like as if you were made for me", Jake praised , pressing little kisses against your neck as he helped you bounce on his cock. Your thighs were already starting to burn , your moans getting more whiny and desperate — he knew you were getting tired so he decided to take over , planting his feet flat on his bed as he angled his legs. With every thrust of his, the tip of his cock kissed your cervix , making you see stars once again and knocking the air out of your lungs.

At this point , the pleasure was so overwhelming that tears started to run down your cheeks — your hands gripping onto the headboard for dear life as he was quite literally rearranging your guts. "Fuck , your pussy feels so good. I'm going to ruin it for any other guy so you can only fuck me. No guy is ever going to give you the same pleasure like I do , I'll mold your sweet little cunt into the shape of my cock", Jake babbled , his words slurred as he was in a pussy drunk daze — moving his hand from your hip to your thigh , rubbing his thumb against your clit as he felt the way your walls tightened around him.

A loud cry left your lips as you came all over his cock , making him groan loudly as his thrust started to lose their rhythm — more tears spilling from your eyes as he pushed your hips completely down . He knew he was safe , he knew you were safe so he didn't worry about std's and he also knew that you were on birth control so the chances of knocking you up were low — but with the way his bulbous head pressed against your cervix , he wasn't sure anymore. Thick ropes of cum filled your poor little cunt up , an almost whiny moan leaving his lips as he filled you up to the brim — a white ring forming around the base of his cock as he thrusted a couple more times before letting you rest against him.

"Don't look at me like that..", Jake chuckled as he looked at you , your arms crossed over your chest as you glared at him. "Fuck yourself Jake", you huffed and pulled the blanket over yourself — yes , the sex was more than just good but who would've thought that you'd now have to stay at his place for the next couple days because he quite literally took the ability to walk away from you. "You and your stupidly huge fucking cock.." 

[betweenstorms]

Where Ghosts Linger

Obsessed!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!Reader

In honor of both kinktober and spooktober, I’ve stepped out of my comfort zone to write something darker. Imagining Simon in this twisted scenario wasn’t easy, but I wanted to push the boundaries and see where it would take me. Hope you enjoy this eerie little experiment!

TW: contains themes of obsession, depression, alcoholism, violence, child abuse, self-harm and non-consensual behavior. It includes dark psychological elements and emotional distress. Please read with caution.

London. Fucking London.

A city that thrived on misery and despair, where the air was thick with the stench of piss and where Simon Riley found himself suffocating in his own personal hell. He hated the crowded streets, the gray, lifeless sky, and the dirty rain that seemed to wash away any trace of hope. London was a festering wound, and Simon was stuck in it, rotting from the inside out.

His apartment was a reflection of that rot. A shithole in Southwark that was as neglected as he was. The landlord didn’t give a shit about it, and neither did Simon. Why bother? This place was a bloody tomb, and he was just another fucking corpse waiting to decompose in it. The walls were stained with years of filth and smoke, the paint peeling off like the skin of some dying beast. He lived in dirt, where he belonged, surrounded by the remnants of a life that felt like it belonged to someone else.

The medals on the shelf, once a source of pride, now sat gathering dust, their shine dulled by time and indifference. A painful reminder of who he had been, and who he would never be again. He’d been an elite soldier, a protector, a fucking weapon. But that life was over, dead and buried just like the people he’d failed to protect.

Now, he was nothing but a broken-down wreck, a ghost haunting the ruins of his own past.

How pathetic.

It had been a year since the army had tossed him out on his arse, like a piece of shit they couldn’t be bothered to flush. ‘Early retirement’ was the official story, but Simon knew better. He’d seen their looks, heard their whispers. They thought he was broken, fucked in the head. And they were right. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the undying rage that simmered just below the surface of his inked skin, ready to explode at the slightest provocation—they were all signs that something inside him had snapped. And it had.

The day Johnny died, the last bit of humanity in him had died too.

All that was left was anger, grief, and a deep hatred for the world and himself.

The military forced him out after he nearly killed a rookie during a training exercise. He could still hear the bone breaking, still feel the flesh tearing under his bare hand. It had taken four men to pull Simon off, and even then, he’d been like a rabid dog, snarling and spitting, desperate to finish what he’d started.

After that, there was no saving him. They gave him some bullshit about ‘rest and recovery,’ about how he needed to ‘take time for himself.’ But he knew what they meant. They wanted him gone, out of sight, out of mind. Another broken soldier thrown on the scrap heap, just another casualty of a war that never really ended.

Most days, he was angry. So fucking angry that it felt like he was burning from the inside out, like his veins were full of liquid fire.

He’d go out looking for something, anything to let the rage out before it consumed him. He’d pick fights in pubs, in alleys, in abandoned sites, anywhere he could find some poor bastard who looked at him the wrong way. It didn’t matter if he won or lost either.

On the days when the anger wasn’t there, he felt nothing.

Just a cold, hollow emptiness that left him numb and disconnected from everything. Those were the days when he couldn’t bring himself to leave his soulless flat, when he’d sit in that creaky old armchair and drink himself into oblivion with cheap whiskey.

Those were the days he feared the most too—the days when he didn’t care if he lived or died, when the gun in the drawer seemed like the only way out of the endless nightmare.

Something always stopped him before he could pull the trigger.

Maybe it was cowardice, or maybe it was some small, stubborn part of him that still clung to life, even though he didn’t know why. Whatever it was, it kept him going, kept him trapped in this limbo of existence. He would get up, go through the motions, take his pills, and try to convince himself that tomorrow might be different, even though he knew it wouldn’t be.

Sometimes, he tried to fight it and hold on to some semblance of a life. He’d wake up at dawn, like he used to, force himself to shave, to shower, to eat. He’d try to follow the old routine, the one that had kept him sane during all those years of deployment.

However, it never worked. He’d been a soldier, a man with purpose, but now he was nothing. Just a useless, sick in the head, broken piece of shit, abandoned by the only thing that had ever given his miserable life any meaning.

To ease the pain, he walked during the night and slept through the day. The only time he could find any peace was under the dark sky, the only time the voices in his head quieted down, even if just for a little while. Sometimes he was drunk, stumbling through the dirty streets like a wraith, barely able to keep himself upright. Other times, he was sober, the cold night air cutting through the fog in his mind, sharpening the edges of his thoughts. He wandered the shitty, empty streets of the worst parts of London for hours, sometimes until the sun started to rise, trying to outrun the demons that haunted him.

It was on one of those nights when he saw you for the first time.

It was a cold, damp night in October, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you feel like you would never be warm again. He was sober, or maybe he just felt that way due to the cold, because for once his mind clearer than it had been for a seemingly endless year.

His father’s face flashed before his eyes, twisted and angry, the same expression the bastard always wore when he was about to beat the living shit out of him. Simon could almost feel the blows, the sting of the belt, the sharp pain of a fist connecting with his ribs. He’d learned early on not to cry. Crying only made it worse. So he’d learned to take it like a man, to bury the pain deep down where it couldn’t touch him. But that pain had never really gone away. It had just festered, turned into something dark and ugly that had followed him his whole life.

And then there was the memory that haunted him most of all.

The day he’d come home to find lifeless bodies in his childhood home, his family slaughtered because of him. Because of a bloody mission that had gone sideways, because he hadn’t been fast enough, smart enough, good enough. He’d dug himself out of a grave with a fucking rotting jaw, only to find his brother, his dear mother, his baby nephew—all of them dead, butchered like mere animals because of him. He will never forget the sweet, nose-wrenching stench of corpses and blood that filled the house.

That was the day Simon Riley had died.

The day Ghost had been born.

He was so lost in these thoughts that he almost walked right past you. How could he do that?

Walk past you.

Oh you. You were standing under a rusty streetlamp, the rain forming a mist around you that caught the orange light in a soft, golden halo. For a moment, Simon thought he was seeing things. Maybe he wasn’t as sober as he thought, and the whiskey he’d downed earlier was playing tricks on him. Because you didn’t look real.

You looked like something out of a dream. A hallucination.

You were dressed simply, in clothes that were too thin for the cold weather, but Simon barely noticed. It was your face that held his attention, the way the light played across your skin, making it glow against the backdrop of the city. Your hair was wet, locks sticking to your cheeks and shoulders, but you made no effort to brush them away. They hid your eyes for a moment before you shifted slightly, looking down at your phone and he saw them—eyes that seemed to stare right into his pathetic soul.

For a seemingly endless moment, Simon just stood there, staring at you, feeling like the ground had been pulled out from under him.

You didn’t belong here, in this ugly, rundown part of London, in the middle of a miserable night. And then, out of the blue, a sudden, crazy thought flickered through his broken mind.

Maybe you were waiting for him.

The thought was absurd, ridiculous even, but it latched onto Simon's twisted mind with the tenacity of a pitbull, refusing to let go. Maybe you were there for him, a bloody angel in the midst of this wretched city, just standing there in the piss-poor rain as if you didn't belong to the same shitty world that had turned him into this... thing.

This broken, hollow shell of a man.

He shook his head, trying to clear the fog of desperation that clouded his better judgment, but it didn’t help. The sight of you had triggered something deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt ever. It was like a spark had been ignited in the pitch-black darkness of his mind, a tiny flicker of light that he was terrified would go out if he didn’t hold on to it. Maybe it was the booze still swirling in his body, maybe it was the years of torment and guilt twisting his brain into knots, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop himself from believing, if only for a moment, that you were meant for him.

He took a step closer, the soles of his black boots splashing in the cold, dirty puddles on the pavement, but you didn’t seem to notice.

Simon’s pulse quickened, his breath shallow and uneven as he moved closer, his steps soundless despite the wet pavement beneath him. He surveyed the area with practiced eyes. The street was empty, a desolate stretch of asphalt and crumbling brick, lined with decrepit buildings that looked like they hadn’t seen a lick of care in decades. There were no people nearby, no signs of life in the windows above.

Just him and you, alone in this forgotten corner of the city.

You were still oblivious to his presence, lost in whatever was on that bloody phone of yours. He watched you, hazel eyes narrowing as he considered his next move. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Part of him just wanted to get closer, to see you more clearly. But there was another part of him, a darker part, that wanted more.

Simon moved closer, every step deliberate, controlled.

He felt like a predator stalking his prey, his military training coming back to him in full force. It was second nature to him now, the way his mind cataloged every detail, every possible threat or escape route. He had been trained to hunt, to go for the throat, to eliminate, and those instincts were hardwired into his core, impossible to shake even after all this time. The lines blurred in his mind, his thoughts tangling up in the memories of past missions, of dark nights spent creeping through hostile territory, of the adrenaline that surged through him when he was on the hunt.

For a brief second, Simon could almost hear his old captain’s gruff voice echo in the hollow of his mind—a special forces operator’s worth is tested in blood. The words twisted in his chest, cold as the barrel of his rifle, his breath catching in his throat. A phantom touch grazed his shoulder, and for a heartbeat, he could almost feel Gaz there—tapping lightly to signal the breach. His brother, always at his side. But no, not anymore. He must be a lieutenant now...

Simon blinked hard, forcing the ghosts back into the shadows.

He focused on you instead, the only anchor left in the storm.

Just as he was about to take another careful step, a sharp, sudden sound shattered the stillness of the night. Your phone rang, the shrill tone cutting through the silence like a knife. Simon froze, instinctively ducking behind the wreck of an old, rusted car parked at the edge of the street. Your lovely voice was tinged with frustration as you spoke. It was quiet, almost too quiet, yet it clung to the air with a strange sweetness that made his breath falter.

In that moment, something in him shifted—like a taut wire snapped loose, vibrating through his chest. It was an obsession born not of choice, but of instinct.

“Derek? Where are you?”

Derek.

Simon’s stomach twisted at the sound of the name. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, hot and vicious, as he imagined that bastard leaving you out here, alone in the dark, like you were nothing. You were too good for this shithole. And Derek, whoever the fuck he was, had left you, you out of all people, stranded.

Simon’s hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking as he fought to keep his temper in check.

“No, I told you I didn’t know this area,” you said, pacing back and forth, the anxiety clear in your every movement. Your tone was sharp, but beneath it, however, Simon could hear the fear creeping in. “No, I’ve been wandering around for an hour! I’m lost, Derek, and this place is creeping me out. I don’t know where I am. Help me, please."

Simon felt a surge of protectiveness, mingled with fury.

Of course you were creeped out. You should be. This was no place for someone like you. You were lucky, though. So damn lucky that Simon had been the one to find you, that it wasn’t some thug or worse, some twisted bastard who’d see you as easy prey. Oh no, you were safe with him, even if you didn’t know it.

Safe from everything except him.

“I don’t care about the discount in the pub, come on,” you huffed, your voice trembling a bit, now tinged with a note of desperation that made Simon’s chest tighten painfully. “The guys will understand, I’m sure. Please, just come and help me.”

Simon could almost hear Derek’s response in his head—a lazy, careless dismissal, maybe a drunken laugh as he waved off your concerns. The thought made Simon’s blood boil.

Derek didn’t deserve you.

Didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. You were precious, an angel in a city full of demons, and that bastard was too fucking stupid to appreciate you. If Simon ever got his hands on him, he’d make sure Derek knew exactly what kind of danger he’d put you in. He’d break every bone in his worthless body, make him pay for every second you’d been left out here to fend for yourself.

“I told you I couldn’t come tonight, but you insisted, so I did,” you continued, your voice growing more strained with every word. “I need your help. Please, come and pick me up. I’ve got work in the morning, I don’t feel really good and I really need to get home. What? Yeah, I’m a little bit tipsy, so what? I’m lost. Please.”

Simon’s jaw tightened as he listened to you, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. You were begging now, practically pleading and it made his skin crawl.

You shouldn’t have to beg. Not for something like this.

You deserved better, so much better. You deserve someone who would move heaven and earth to keep you safe, to make sure you were never in a situation like this in the first place. Simon wasn’t good for much anymore, but he knew how to protect. He knew how to take care of those he cared about—he’d spent his whole life doing it, even if it had all gone to shit in the end.

But Derek clearly wasn’t that man.

Simon could hear the frustration in your voice as you asked, “You called a taxi? Really? You couldn’t just come?”

There was a long pause, and he could feel his heart beating faster, his muscles tensing as he waited for your reaction.

When you finally spoke again, your voice was much softer, much resigned. “Okay. Fine. We’ll meet tomorrow, then.”

You ended the call with a deep sigh.

For a moment, you just stood there, staring at the ground, your shoulders slumped in defeat. Simon watched you from his hiding spot, his mind racing. The deadly fury he felt toward the pathetic excuse of a man you were speaking with was almost overwhelming, but underneath it, there was something else—something darker and more insidious. A need to be the one you turned to, the only one you could rely on. He wanted to be the one who took care of you, who made sure you never had to feel this way again.

But he couldn’t just walk up to you, not now. Not yet. You were too vulnerable, too raw, and he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to be careful and had to find the right way to approach you. You needed to see him as a protector, not as a threat. His mind was a mess of emotions, the anger, the need and the sick sense of possessiveness all tangled up together. He couldn’t let that control him. He had to be smart about this, had to play it right.

Simon took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly.

He had to be smart about this, had to think like the fucking special forces operator he once was.

The shadows of his old life clung to him, and in the quiet of his mind, he could almost hear Price’s voice barking orders—to scrape up every damn thing he could find. That was his mission now, wasn’t it? To know you. To learn your name, where you lived, where you worked, every inch of your life, mapped out like terrain before a strike. It was the instinct that kicked in, something so ingrained it almost felt like muscle memory.

Johnny would have definitely teased him for his honest mistake—“forgetting the basics, Lt.,”—his voice mocking, lighthearted, but Simon couldn’t let this slip through his fingers. He needed to know everything. You were his target, but not to eliminate.

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you from his hiding spot. The rain continued to fall, pattering against the metal roofs, but Simon barely registered the cold droplets soaking through his clothes. All his focus was on you, every nerve in his body attuned to your slightest movement. You stood there, alone and vulnerable.

He inched closer, moving with the same precision and silence that had once made him a ghost on the battlefield.

Despite his size—broad shoulders, heavy muscles that made him look more like a walking tank than a man—he moved with an eerie grace, his footsteps soundless on the wet pavement. Decades of military training had taught him how to blend into the shadows, how to become part of the night, after all.

He was close now, too close to risk you noticing him, so he stayed low, hidden behind the wrecked row of cars. He couldn’t see you anymore and that frustrated him to no end. It was like torture, being this close and yet so far, but he knew he had to wait. Patience was something he’d learned the hard way, and now it was paying off.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a taxi pulled up to the curb. Simon’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening as the car’s headlights cut through the darkness. He heard the window of the vehicle roll down, the driver’s voice breaking the tension in the air.

The driver called out, his voice hoarse but polite.

And he said your name.

It hit Simon like a sledgehammer, echoing in his broken mind, searing itself into his memory. He repeated it to himself, over and over, like a mantra. He would never forget it for the rest of his miserable life. He would burn down entire cities to remember it. 

“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, her voice softer now, but Simon caught every word, hanging on to them like they were the most important thing he’d ever heard.

He strained to catch the rest of the conversation, hoping for more clues, more intel. You murmured something about the old market in downtown London to the taxi driver, and Simon’s mind raced, trying to piece together what little he knew. The old market—that could be a clue, a starting point. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And right now, that something was all he needed.

The door of the taxi shut with a soft thud, and Simon was left alone in the dark, empty street, the rain falling steadily around him, soaking him to the bone. But he didn’t care. All he could think about was the name that now echoed in his mind, the name that had given him a purpose, a reason to keep going.

He had a name. He had a direction.

As the taxi drove away, its taillights disappearing into the night, Simon finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

His muscles ached from the tension, but there was a strange sense of relief that washed over him, a feeling of liberation. He had something to hold on to now, something tangible. He knew your name. He knew your name, and that meant everything.

He stood there, letting the rain wash over him, his mind buzzing with possibilities. He could find you, he could get close to you. He wasn’t the man for you now, but he could become the man you needed. He could become your provider, your guardian, the savior you deserved. He could protect you, keep you safe, take care of you, and in return, you would give him the thing he craved the most.

A reason to live.

You didn’t know it yet, but you were about to become the most important person in Simon Riley’s life. And he wasn’t going to let anything or anyone stand in the way of that. The storm that had raged inside him for so long had quieted, leaving behind a cold and unyielding determination. He had a purpose now, a mission. One he had to see through alone. Price would have approved, Simon was sure of it—Gaz and Soap too. He could almost feel them at his back, their shadows guiding him forward.

This wasn’t for them, though. This was for him.

For the part of him still capable of feeling something other than anger. He would find you again, and when he did, you would never be alone, vulnerable, or scared again.

Because Simon Riley was a man who protected what was his.

And you were his.

➼ Masterlist

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 40

4150 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"I hope my new sheets are still intact," Jin comments.

The older man peers at Taehyung over his steaming coffee mug as the panda enters the guest house. His long curs still dripped from the shower

"I'll pay for the replacements," Taehyung smirks.

He joins Jin at the kitchen table and rests his head in his hands, staring at the doctor. He admires the way his slightly crooked fingers curl around the porcelain. He finds himself mesmerized by the pucker of his lips as the mug nears his almost-perfect face. He watches closely as the older man swallows, licking his lips almost subconsciously.

"I know you are technically still a predator, but must you watch me so intensely," Jin quips barely pulling the cup from his lips. 

"It's not my fault. You're the one who goes around looking like you should be my next meal." Tae shrugs.

"Don't you have a fiance you could prey on instead,"

"I do... and I did. She was delicious but now she is busy and you're right here Hyung."

The older man sighs and finishes his coffee in three smooth swigs. He doesn't deign to respond to Taehyung again, busying himself with washing and drying the mug. Only when he is finished completely, does he look at the panda once more. 

"Maybe we should get to know one another better before you begin to proposition me Taehyung-ah, I'm not going to bend to your will quite as easily as some others in this house." 

Taehyung lifts an eyebrow, the challenge intriguing him. 

"I'm positive you will come around to my way. We just don't spend enough time together, one date with me and I bet I'll have you lined up like everyone else."

"I'll take that bet," Jin extends his hand for Taehyung to take. "Obviously if you win you get me, but what do I get..."

"Anything you want, money is no object..." Taehyung clasps Jin's hand in his.

He uses the leverage to pull Jin towards him leaving them a hairwidths apart.

"I don't need money, but if you really have everyone wrapped around your finger then you'll convince them to let me choose the sleeping arrangements for a week."

"You're on." 

Instead of shaking Jin's hand, Taehyung leans forward and kisses the older man's nose, causing Jin to flush pink.

"This is going to be so easy," Taehyung grins, "Tomorrow night, can't wait."

He releases Jin's hand and walks into the garden, for no reason other than to have a grand exit. Jin remains in the kitchen, more than a little dumbstruck as to how he ended up in this situation. 

_______________________________

You can't help but feel frustrated with yourself. Even after talking it through, after being reassured, you won't be hidden away again, after being comforted. The goddamn twisted feeling remains in your stomach, stubborn and constant. The only difference between now and this morning is you are determined not to let it beat you. 

You wring the water from your hair a little more harshly than necessary and then find your way back to Namjoon's office. This time he actually seems to be working rather than just caressing his new furniture. You try your best not to ruin his flow, kissing his cheek to alert him of your presence before picking a book from his shelf and curling up in the armchair again. Somewhere you are sure is going to become one of your favourite places in the new build. 

Namjoon reaches over and brushes his hand through your damp tresses and then returns both hands to his keyboard. The two of you sit in companionable silence until the room gets dark around you. 

"Jimin and Hoseok should be home soon," Namjon comments. "Wes should head back into the guest house and see if Yoongi wants any help with dinner."

"You and I both know the best way for you to help with cooking is to stay here."

He grumbles under his breath as he shuts down his computer before swivelling his chair to glare at you. You don't even get a chance to put the book down before he is on top of you. His fingers dig into your sides as he tickles you mercilessly, trapped between the back of the chair and his knee. You wriggle futilely as his onslaught continues, your only defense your screams.

"Take it back," He says.

"I won't take back the truth," You attempt to retort, although it comes out in a series of wheezes and coughs.

"Take it back!" He says again.

Still, you refuse. Instead, you attempt to get your arms between you, intending a counter-attack but he only succeeds in pinning you better. Fortunately for you, a tornado blows into the room, taking Namjoon with it in a blur of limbs and dark hair. 

Jungkook has an unprepared Namjoon pinned to the floor within seconds. He retaliates for you, wrestling with Namjoon while you recover from the tickle assault. When you finally have your breath back you pull the rabbit back to give Namjoon a reprieve.  In turn, he twists to attack you, squeezing you tight in his arms. 

"Y/N! Are you okay? I've been so worried you weren't here when we woke up," 

You can feel his pout as he buries his nose against your neck. You stroke his hair, ruffling it around his ears. 

"I'm sorry bunny, I'm okay,"

Namjoon scoops the pair of you into his arms and leans back against his desk, a head on each shoulder. Jungkook traces patterns on your bicep with his forefinger and you both allow yourself to settle into your leader's embrace. 

"Did you come looking for us for a reason Kook?" Namjoon asks.

"I heard Y/N screaming all the way from the guest house... I had to check she was okay" He responds.

Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises for scaring him, earning himself an even clingier Jungkook.

"Oh and Yoongi said dinner is nearly ready and I think I heard Jimin pulling into the driveway on my way up here."

"Then we should probably go down to join them," You say.

None of you make any effort to move though. 

______________________________

Hoseok walks in on the image of perfect domestic bliss. Yoongi and Jin seem to have fallen into the kind of rhythm you usually find in a professional kitchen. Jimin and Taehyung cuddled up on the sofa waiting to be called through. He can't help thinking to himself he could get used to this. 

He slips in behind Yoongi, caging the man against the kitchen counters. The jackal turns in his arms and kisses him deeply. 

"Hi," Yoongi breathes as they pull away.

"Hello," Hobi returns with a smile.

"Yes, yes. Hello Hello," Jin grumbles. "We were kind of in a rhythm here,"

"My apologies Jinny, are you feeling left out?" Hoseok flutters his eyelashes.

Without warning Hobi switches around and crowds Jin instead, he lifts slightly on to his tiptoes until his nose is level with Jin's. Before the doctor can even think to stop him, Hoseok closes the gap and nibbles at his bottom lip, Jin does the rest of the work, slipping his tongue between Hoseok's teeth. He takes charge of the kiss, flipping them until Hobi is the one pushed up against the counter. Jin's hands hold Hoseok's hips in place, leading him in grinding against one another. 

"Alright, give it a break, the chicken is starting to burn" Yoongi says pulling on Jin's shoulder. 

The two separate out of breath, Hobi looking much worse for wear than Jin.

"Now that's the kinda show I'd buy tickets for," Taehyung quips, peering into the kitchen. 

Jimin's head rests on his shoulder, hugging Taehyung from behind,

"Will there be a repeat showing?" the red head enquires. 

"Perhaps after dinner, if I Yoongi and I can actually get back to cooking now " Jin shrugs, returning to the stove.

Hobi's ears turn red and if he had a tail it would've definitely been wagging at the thought. He joins Taehyung and Jimin on the other side of the breakfast bar and watches on as the eldest two continue. Soon Namjoon, Jungkook and Y/N walk through the door, and dinner is ready to be eaten. 

________________

A worrying amount of dinner conversation seems to be filled with details of your upcoming nuptials. No detail is left undiscussed, the dress, the flowers, the venue; they even voted on who will fall into each wedding party (bridesmen: Jin, Jungkook, Hoseok/groomsmen: Jimin, Yoongi, Namjoon).  You try to join in enthusiastically but the entire situation leaves you feeling exhausted and more than ready to go straight to sleep after this despite your earlier nap.

Thankfully as long as you make a suggestion every time the topic changes you seem to be involved enough that no one notices your lack of enthusiasm for details. Going forward you vowed to yourself to be better involved. The prospect of planning your own wedding this time was intriguing, seeing as last time it was all planned around you, it just seemed far too quick. You had hoped just a little that it might be a long engagement but it would seem that that may not be the case. 

A thought then occurs to you that might be able to get you out of this conversation just a little longer, at least long enough to get your head around the idea. 

"Taehyung, have you told your parents yet?"

Everyone's gaze falls on Taehyung.

"No... It's barely been a couple hours yet, let me enjoy the feeling of being engaged to someone I love before I involve the people who are trying to force me to do otherwise." He shrugs. 

From there the conversation shifts, less excitement surrounding the wedding when the forced nature of it is brought up. You settle in and enjoy your dinner far more as Jimin regales you with tales from his day, telling you how all the other residents are getting on. Then Hoseok shares about some of the overly enthusiastic singers that made their way through the karaoke hall doors, the afternoon shift always brought in the most intriguing characters. 

Dinner ends pleasantly and you and Jungkook clean up while everyone else heads into the main room to watch tv. The bunny races you to clean the fastest, but you are a little less enthusiastic, allowing him to clean most of the room as you watch his arms ripple and tense.

"It's no fun racing if you don't play too..." He pouts when he catches you staring. 

"Sorry... I was distracted."

"Clearly," He smirks.

He puts down the teatowel he was holding and takes your hands in his. He signals for you to be quiet and the two of you tiptoe out of the kitchen and behind the sofa and into the bedroom. 

"Maybe I can help you focus,"

He walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed 

"Focusing on you wasn't something I really had an issue with..."

"Then let's focus on you."

Something tells you that you'll never be prepared for when confident Jungkook makes an appearance and something tells you that you haven't seen the full extent of it. One hand wraps around the back of your neck and finds a home in the hair at the nape of your neck. He tilts your face up towards him and uses his free hand to support your chin, leaving you little room to escape. His thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling it way from the top lip. 

"Tell me what you want," He says.

"Whatever you want," you murmur.

Your tongue flicks out to catch his thumb but he pulls his hand away before you can capture it. 

"I said we are focusing on you, why are you so bad at this?"

His hand slaps down on your hip making you jump.

"Is that okay?" he whispers. 

You nod with the little slack that he gives you and his hand taps on your hip twice more.

"Then try again, what do you want?" 

"I want you," 

"That's a little better,"

He rewards you with a kiss.

"Now be more specific," He nibbles briefly on your lip 

"I want you to make love to me," 

You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him against you.

"Now that I will absolutely do for you." 

He taps your thigh so you jump into his arms and turns, before falling back onto the bed. He grinds his hips against yours. You can feel him easily through his sweats, straining to be released. You reach to free him from his stifling waistband but he catches you before you get the chance.

"Don't worry about me just yet,"

"But what if that's what I want?"

"I've decided I don't want your opinion anymore. I think I'm going to have to teach you how to focus on yourself before I let you make your own decisions, you aren't experienced enough," 

"And you are? Mr. boys only..." You raise an eyebrow and lower your hips against him. 

"I've been talking to Hobi..." His ears go a little red around the tips. "I think I've got a much better idea now, better than you anyway." 

"Guess you should show me then, you must know better than me."

His hands trail up your thighs, nails dragging along your skin. 

"Lie on the bed for me." 

You climb out of his lap and lay back on the bed. He leans in and licks a long strip against the scent gland on your neck sending shivers throughout your whole body. He bands your legs up to lock himself between them, using them to support his waist as he leaves purpling bruises along your decolletage. He seems to lose himself in his art, creating blooming patterns along your previously unmarred skin. 

"Is this a private party?" A deep voice sounds from the doorway.

Jungkook doesn't even glance up, but you can feel the way his tension changes, a soft whine vibrating against your skin. You meet Namjoon's gaze, a fond smile on his lips and fire in his eyes. When no response comes from Jungkook he makes his way into the room fully, perching on the edge of the bed. Jungkook moves down towards your cleavage but he is a lot gentler now, soothing with his tongue as he goes. 

Namjoon reaches up and places a hand in Jungkook's hair, from your angle, you can't tell what he does, or even if he does anything, but Jungkook suddenly seems to become more drooling mess than man.

"Let me ask again, is this a private affair? Or can I join you?"

Jungkook finally pulls up, looking at you with large puppy eyes.

"I want what you want Kookie," you say.

You reach out to caress his cheek but he turns and bites at you playfully, his previous confidence suddenly making a reappearance so fast it gives you whiplash. 

"Not my choice when it's you being taken care of, Love," He answers. "I think two heads are better than one... but it's up to you."

You look between him and Namjoon and make your decision; an easy decision to make.

"Stay Joonie." You reach out to him.

He takes your hand and kisses it.

"Always," He smiles. "Now Kookie let's see where you were going with this, I want a show."

Jungkook nods eagerly. Then, instead of returning to your cleavage, he helps you wriggle out of your clothes until you are laid bare before both of them. There is something chilling about being naked when your lovers are looking on fully dressed, it seems a satisfying tingle up your spine and you fight to keep yourself from curling in to hide. 

Jungkook folds your legs back to their earlier position, this time keeping them in place with his shoulders as he settles his face firmly in between. His warm breath hits your damp core, his lips less than a whisper away from where you are suddenly aching to have him. Namjoon doesn't move, he just squeezes your hand, watching Jungkook intently.

Junkook's tongue is much more confident in his approach this time, focusing more on your clit than your pussy as a whole. He flicks and sucks in a feverish rhythm that has your legs begging to straighten. One of his hands finds it's way between your legs, two fingers push harshly into your tight heat. You hold tighter on to Namjoon as your pussy clenches against the sudden intrusion. 

"Relax Y/N-ie" Namjoon shushes you.

He releases your hand and crawls to the top of the bed. He pulls you slightly until your head is lying in his lap, his fingers making a home in your hair, massaging you gently as Jungkook continues his assault between your legs. The sweet caress of Namjoon's hand is completely juxtaposed with the relentless pumping on Jungkook's fingers as he teases mercilessly at your g-spot. Whatever Hoseok had told him had been very efficient, you could feel the high rising in your stomach much faster as your back arched away from the mattress. 

Jungkook's chin is dripping with you as he pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover. He kneels up eyes filled with pride when he notices the way your eyes aren't quite ready to focus.

"That looks delicious, can I taste it bunny?" Namjoon asks. 

You brace yourself for them to shift places and the overstimulation to begin, but it never comes. Instead, the weight shifts as Jungkook leans over you, kissing Namjoon while still covered in your orgasm. You force your eyes to readjust and enjoy. Namjoon carefully shifts your head back to the pillow and then draws Jungkook closer to him, grinding against the younger man as he enjoys your taste. 

"Would you like me to leave you two alone?" You joke, propping yourself up on one hand.

"We'll get to you," Namjoon growls.

He dismisses you and pushes Jungkook down on to the bed so his head lands at your feet. Namjoon's kiss gets deeper and more feverish as the bunny melts beneath him, whining loudly. He licks into and around Jungkook's mouth, gathering every ounce of you from Jungkook's mouth until he is satiated.

"Fuck," He pants as he pulls away looking sheepish. 

He extends a hand for Jungkook to take but he doesn't accept, too busy catching his breath.

"Sorry... that was..." Namjoon tries to form a sentence.

"That was hot as fuck," Jungkook supplies.

"I lost control..."

"You should lose control more," You say, fanning yourself dramatically.

"Imagine drinking that taste from the source..." Jungkook suggests, " See how much control you have then,"

He sits up and runs a finger through your slit, gathering as much slick as he can before holding it out for Joonie to take the digit. However, before Namjoon can wrap his lips around it, Jungkook pulls back and pops it into his own mouth, making Namjoon growl again. He looks almost murderous as he glares at Jungkook. 

"Choose now, do you want to fuck her or fuck me? because if you choose her I'm going to be very rough with you," Namjoon demands.

Jungkook squeals in response, a sound you might've thought meant fear if you weren't almost choking on the smell of his arousal. 

"Quickly, bunny, or you're not getting your dick wet at all and you'll just have to sit and watch."

"Y/N said she wanted to make love not fuck..." He manages to point out. 

"Then one of us can make love to her as the other gets brutally fucked, now pick"

"Joonie, I want to fuck Joonie." Jungkook answers.

"Is that okay with you?" Namjoon turns to ask you, a completely different demeanour to the commanding man Jungkook had been faced with. 

His eyes are soft and focused as he waits for your response. You nod, and the alpha smiles back at you before returning to glaring at Jungkook. 

"Clothes off Jeon, and find the condoms first."

Jungkook scurries off the bed in search of the materials he needs to warm Namjoon up for him. In the meantime, Namjoon's attention switches fully to you. He throws his shirt across the room, inadvertently hitting Jungkook, and then leans down over you. 

"Are you sure you're okay with the switch?" He asks

"More than okay... does this mean I get to watch you take Jungkook?"

"Well, technically yes, but that's if you're able to focus on something other than the feeling of me, and if I'm doing my job correctly that shouldn't be the case." He sounds cocky, and you're sure he has every right to. 

The bed dips as Jungkook rejoins you.

"Why are your pants still on Hyung?" You can hear the pout in Jungkook's voice.

"You're so impatient Kook," Namjoon sighs.

But he pulls away from you anyway, giving himself space to undress properly. He then signals for you to shift properly back to the headboard and pulls a pillow to put under your hips. Finally, he takes a condom from Jungkook and rolls it almost effortlessly along his length. He takes up his position between your legs and you watch Jungkook settle in behind him, you can just about see his head appear over Namjoon's broad shoulders. 

Jungkook lets out a giggle when he must realise something

"I'm already prepped," Namjoon shrugs "Gets him excited," He winks at you, "Are you ready,"

You bite your lip and nod, preparing yourself for something similar to Jungkook's previously punishing performance. Namjoon however is a lot gentler, which somehow stimulates you more. You feel each inch as he sinks deeper inside of you. You know Jungkook is holding back, seeing how much of his lower lip has disappeared into his mouth, which makes you think this isn't the first time the pair of them have been in this situation. It makes you wonder whether you are taking Jimin or Yoongi's usual position.

Namjoon thrusts hard and deep a few times to get himself properly situated, listening to the way your breath hitches to get a better idea of what angle you prefer. Only when he is satisfied that he will be pleasuring you does he give Jungkook the go-ahead to line himself up. Namjoon kisses you as Jungkook fills him, allowing you to feel each pulse of his breath as he tries to relax for the other man

As Jungkook pushes in, you can feel the way Namjoon strains to take most of the thrust and not push into you. 

"You can let him fuck you in to me..." you say.

You don't make eye contact, instead, you draw lines along his biceps and follow the lines. 

"That won't exactly be a love-making pace," Namjoon points out.

"Maybe we could make love on a different day..."

"Okay, but you asked for this," You can hear the grin "Jungkook goes as hard as you really want to," Namjoon permits, 

and by god does Jungkook comply.

You cling to Namjoon's arms as the two of you are bounced wildly by Jungkook's thrusts. His hips move erratically as he sets a punishing pace. Namjoon pants over the top of you as he struggles to keep himself afloat on top of you while also feeling the pressure of the other man up against his prostate. 

The younger man shows no sign of relenting, even as Namjoon tenses inside of you trying desperately and futilely to cling on to his orgasm. He cums dramatically, almost collapsing on top of you.

"Do you need me to stop hyung?" Jungkook hesitates.

"Don't you dare," Namjoon grits through his teeth.

The older man's hand reaches between you, circling your clit. His breath is hot in the crook of your neck as Jungkook's movements continue to force him to fuck deeply inside of you. Another orgasm finds it's place in the base of your stomach, and based on the droplet of sweat trailing done Jungkook's face, he isn't far behind. just as you release, Jungkook releases a strangled moan and pulls backwards, his cum filling the condom. 

Not forgetting when Taehyung scolded him last time, Jungkook scurries off as soon as he is able into the ensuite, returning with water glasses and towels. Namjoon praises him and pulls him back on to the bed once the glasses are safely out of the way. Namjoons situates himself against the headboard with his legs apart, Jungkook crawls into the gap that was left for him and then tugs you into his lap. The three of you sit there for some time until your breath comes back and your souls reenter your bodies.

Sometime later a mildly bemused Jin enters the room and forces you all into the shower. By the time you come back he is bundled up in fresh sheets waiting for the three of you to join him for the night. 

Next

Masterlist

sup fam...... soz. It's been a busy new academic year what can I say.... but here are 4000 words if that helps. Also a proper threesome.... Have fun, let me know how it goes can you let me know if there are any duos or trios that you would like to see interact more? Because I know earlier on in the fic I tried to integrate everybody together, but I’ve still missed interactions. For example, like Hobi and Jin don’t interact too much. Would you like for them too or do you think I should just continue with the plot? Because I am adding that into the plot because obviously, they need to be a viable pack structure and not just a load of couples that happen to live together. But I want to know who everybody else wants to see. I think I have about 6- 8 chapters left. Also more smut coming because I can't believe it took me this long to get my bias in on the smut, seems like a crime....

[snowtamale]

oh. i’m realizing the reason i haven’t shipped anything in a few years is because i’m a slut for slow burn romances and nothing else

[kheyys-worms]

I don't talk much about penacony but have a meme i guess,,,

I mean, no offense Jade Leech but COME ON,,,

LOOK AT HER ✨✨✨

[yuwuta]

i politely demand you talk about your nge/pacrim au!

thank you for enabling my behavior and for all your art omg <33333 i will attempt to coherently and briefly outline my thoughts

the short version is: yuuta/rika saves you post-battle and both are irrationally upset when it turns out that you already have a boyfriend. 

yuuta would like to take some of the credit for digging you out the rubble, but the truth is, it was like his mech was on auto-pilot, overriding all of his controls to dig you out of a lifeless environment and stash your cold, limp body in the center chamber until yuuta and rika were transported back to the base. 

yuuta doesn’t understand why he lost control of rika like that, nor does he understand why he feels so upset when he goes to visit you in the infirmary and there’s already some other man by your bedside holding your hand. he vaguely recognizes kokichi as a junior engineer who’s done a few surface level repairs on rika, and he’s surprised and green with envy to find out that kokichi is also your boyfriend. 

yuuta doesn’t understand the anger he feels, or the headache he gets, or the panic attack that’s threatening to rise in him, or why his feet automatically drag him back to his mech, or why he feels like he could hear rika’s faint sobs and screams in his head and he lay in his pilot chamber. none of it makes sense and he can barely sleep because of it, but it happens every time he thinks about you and kokichi for too long; and strangely enough, if the thinks about how rika seemed to come to life to save you for too long. there’s some kind of missing link he can’t piece together. 

when you’re conscious, you can’t seem to recall any part your childhood, and only have your memories from college onwards, save for bits and pieces of the attack you were a victim of. yuuta learns that you were studying to be an engineer, that you were moving to work at the hangar and be closer to your boyfriend, that kokichi was slated to pick you up from the airport that ended up being the site of attack. a small part of yuuta wishes kokichi had been there, thinks that rika wouldn’t have found him in the rubble. 

you’re the miracle save, and somewhat become the baby of the hangar. world-renowned pilots you’d only ever studied in class stopped by to give you their condolences, offer their help. you try to remain calm when satoru gojo and kento nanami make an appearance as a duo in your tiny recovery room, calling you brave and bowing to you with a home cooked meal in hand. senior engineers do their best to recover your work from college, assuring you that your injuries and recovery period would be a non-factor in the hiring process—that you were free to start as soon as you felt comfortable. you get the most attention from yuuta, who makes himself a friend, and a critical part of your recovery, essentially firing your physical therapist in favor of fixing you himself. 

everyone makes you feel welcome, but yuuta makes you feel safe. he holds your waist while you re-learn to walk, he sneaks you into the pilot’s lounge while the jaegers have their repairs done—and nods in faux-sympathy as you mourn the presence of your boyfriend, who seems busier than ever these days with nuisance repairs, jokes about how yuuji and megumi seem to be particularly reckless with their jaeger lately—he squeezes your hand when you have headaches and fractured flashbacks of your past that you can’t piece together, he holds you when you cry out of pure frustration of not being able to remember who you are

yuuta’s a real smooth talker, too. always knows exactly how to comfort you while your boyfriend is busy, always talks to the press about you so preciously, always makes you feel like you have a purpose even if you can’t remember your past self—maybe you weren’t meant to remember anything before him and rika, maybe it was meant to be this way. it’s a twisted comfort, but it’s something to cling to, it’s better than crying over memories you no longer have.

everyone notices yuuta’s weird reverse stockholm syndrome lol… the way he hovers over you like he’s your sole protector and savior, the way he demands to be privy to all decisions about your health care, the way he remains close to you with no fear of your boyfriend. nobody says anything, though—yuuta’s a pilot, a good one, and one the few solo pilots in the entire world. he’s precious and vital to humanity, worth a thousand men, worth ten thousand engineers. besides, his friends see something special between you two, especially the co-pilot pairs; satoru and kento, megumi and yuuji, choso and yuki—they know compatibility when they see it, and boyfriend or not, you have something special with yuuta. they all share a common thought: kokichi is fighting a losing battle. and even if he could beat yuuta, he’d never win against rika.

[ajxrn-archive]

I need to be put in a waffle iron or something

[hag-lad]

Imma keep it real with you chief. I can’t even imagine still liking or caring about star wars in the year of our lord 2024.

[mercymaker]

i just want to sleep and rest and not have all this tummy pain

[skitskatdacat63]

The double-edged sword of enjoying Chicago and knowing basically all the songs by heart, but also can't stop crying every time I watch/listen to any of them bcs I can't stop thinking about how covid robbed me of getting the experience of ever performing it :(

[lemongrablothbrok]

Eeee! Lookee what I just got in the mail today from my baby brother!

[indi-glo-archive]

i hate imogen with a passion

[katyspersonal]

Speaking of "something intimate touched by dirty hands", I'll be real, I kinda do still need someone to "cleanse" image of Mic0lash for me. Ever since the grand fandom rift I've of course fallen onto the better side where fans are trying their best, I just can tell my Mic mutuals are trying their best with the guy. But something so incredibly bad is connected with the character- You guys know how negative experiences with people can ruin a character (and you're in luck if not the whole piece of media)? This character for me is a manifestation that if someone claims to really love and need me, I should keep in mind that it is a lie I should not trust.

I should know by now that when something sounds too good to be true - it IS, but he is like... an "avatar" of that realization. Someone I could just look at at be reminded without the words that yes, I should remember that I'll never be happy or valued like I want to. That my "ability" to see something good even in the darkest people or to listen to the intention of even the most distorted message is reserved for someone else. For something else. I am just not built for things like long friendships, celebrating holidays, exploring the world together, just being loved, just being able to trust, just being cared about, just sharing life with someone. My role in this world is to be a "tutorial enemy". Someone people would have a negative experience with but in exchange, understand who they are and what they really want in life, and let go of their struggles and wishes that tormented them. But I feel like I can only fulfill my purpose in this world for as long as I am ignorant about it. If I stop trusting people and seeking the type of love I need - I won't get attached, so I won't get hurt when people hurt me, so I won't be slain. Because this is what I am in - a videogame enemy that people need to defeat to level up and proceed to their own games. And if I stop respawning - how I can be what I am?

I just should not learn a thing, because people better off after they "murder" me. More cruel and reclused, but better off - more self-sufficient, more confident, more.. secure of how much good they deserve. It would just help them to be more cautious when someone actually toxic appears. Like, someone who is not even self-aware, not struggling and not remorseful. So they won't take chances, to the better.

But I just need to blind myself to the truth, because I've got nothing better to offer to this world than being that "tutorial enemy". People are better after slaying me. I drop Insight points upon being stabbed, and it happened so many times. I guess this character is just cursed with being associated with a truth so horrible that it is better off not realizing it and just be moved like a pawn.

[sol1loqu1st]

:/

[simptasia]

at this point i actually need my endless celeb crushes and my junk food to make me not turn to drugs