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bunny584 · 3 months

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OBSESSED: SHOKO feat. The BOYS (PART II)

A/N: This is so…I am so…CLEARLY I was in a mood when I wrote this 😅 there is 100% going to be a third and final part. Please use the visual below to envision the…biomechanics of positioning and such, height differences and all.

C/W: ….the trio is their own content warning LOL, Mature 18+

Shoko is drowning.

She is suffocating.

And it’s your little hand that’s holding the back of her head under water.

…rather, she wishes your little hand would just grip the back of her head already and drown her face in your—

“Do you like the pink or the black dress better?”

Your eyes are wide and gorgeous. Finding Shoko’s in the floor length mirror, expecting an answer. An opinion.

But the problem is, Shoko has only one opinion.

And it’s that you’re fucking hot.

And beautiful. And pretty. And perfect.

And her jaw is so sore from how much she clenches it to keep herself from begging to eat your pussy like a woman starved.

Because she IS starved.

“Baby?”

Your girly giggle knocks Shoko back to Earth, just long enough for you to rip her breath away.

You glide over to the bed, where Shoko is seated. Thighs mashed together. As if it’ll keep her from leaking all coherent thought onto her panties.

“Y-you look pretty in…” Shoko’s voice is high and weak, before it shatters to stardust.

Seductive little grin tugs on your lips before you flick your tongue over Shoko’s bottom lip. She’s immediately cross-eyed.

Panting, with mouth parted.

Shoko’s heart is rattling in the back of her throat, how it always does before you kiss her.

Then you kiss her.

Your tongue dances with hers. Feather light pulls along the roof of her mouth. Shoko whines. She always whines when you makeout with her. Her entire body is loose and limp. The only stiff thing about her is her hot, sticky bud. Begging to be touched and rubbed while you fuck her mouth like this.

And she would touch herself while you did this to her, if she could. But she never can.

Because you’re a succubus.

You taste and suck and roll Shoko’s soul over your tongue like a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

And right when you have her pathetic. Whimpering “oh god” and “please” into your mouth, you pull away. Planting one last chaste kiss on her lips or cheek before going about the conversation or task.

Leaving Shoko paralyzed.

“Pink it is!” You glide into Shoko’s bathroom, the boys will be over in a few.

“P-pink is perfect.” Words bubble out of Shoko’s lips a day late and dollar short.

But who cares? She can’t think right now.

Like clockwork, Shoko’s two fingers snake between her drenched panties and her leaky cunt.

She just…she just needs to take the edge off.

Because you’ve been doing this to her.

Kissing her until she’s soaking wet every day. Since that night. It’s a sick little routine you two have and it’s driving Shoko insane.

You’re always sighing into her mouth and calling her baby and holding her face in a way that makes her cunt twitch. And clench. And pulsate around nothing.

The second you leave the room or turn away. Shoko’s fingers fly to her core. Petting herself slack jawed and dumb.

Because even small touches keep her grounded.

And she’s NOT going to ruin this by trying to talk about it. And muddle your obvious chemistry with labels and feelings.

A sliver of you is enough.

Even though she is pining for the moment you fuck her mouth with something else.

“Girls?” Satoru’s voice thunders in your foyer.

For once you’re grateful for his utter lack of boundaries. He jingles keys for dramatic effect.

“Car’s here! The tequila isn’t going to drink itself.”

—

It’s going to take act of God to stop Suguru from cumming in his pants.

All night.

He has been physically restraining the steel fucking pipe between his legs all night.

And maybe he would survive if it was just the way you winded your hips on him the last 5 songs.

Maybe he would be okay if it was just the way you grazed your lips over his ear whenever you whispered something to him.

It was definitely the way you batted your eyelashes up at him. Holding eye contact while taking the kamikaze shots.

That are white and opaque, like his cum.

And being the sick, perverted shell of a human that he is. He pictured you swallowing his arousal. The same way you throated that shot.

Not to mention the “You have to hold eye contact with me, Suguru. Or seven years of bad sex.”

Sex?

You are sex.

The way you’re lapping him in the taxi home is sex.

With your dress splayed across him. Heat radiating from your precious little cunt held back only by gossamer thin lace.

Suguru can feel every tiny bump in the road. Because your pussy grinds and bounces and rubs the length of his shaft.

And he’s shameless.

Every time you lean forward to talk to Shoko, Suguru’s hand traces down your spine. His mind’s eye can only picture steadying the small of your waist while he fucks into you until you forget your name.

His cock is raging against his thigh.

He and Satoru have been exchanging dubious glances all night.

Especially when you pulled them both to the dance floor. You were a lock-and-key fit between them.

Like you were made to take them both.

“God.”

Suguru accidentally mumbles out loud. And he’s thanking/cursing out the gods as soon as he does

Because when you turn to look back at him, your hips grind in a small circle on his cock. And the friction nearly short circuits his brain.

“You okay? Am I too heavy?” Cotton candy on your voice and Suguru needs you to melt on his tongue.

Suguru purposefully bucks his hips upward - causing you to bounce fully off his lap. And he would impale you on the landing if he could.

He could suspend you with one hand. And rail the daylight out of you while standing up.

“You’re a featherweight, princess.” It’s a miracle he’s able to keep his tone steady.

“Oh, he speaks?” Shoko teases.

“Only because the love of his—“ Both you and Suguru land friendly fire onto Satoru’s chest.

Effectively cutting him off.

Satoru settles back into his seat. Riding his eyes along every soft curve and dip in your body.

Everyone.

And he means everyone (driver included) in this car except for you is fucking struggling. Keeping it together by a string of floss.

And he didn’t need his Six Eyes to see that.

Shoko hasn’t stopped panting since the night started. Every time you lean into her ear to giggle about god knows what, she moans.

It’s soft. Below the decibels of normal human perception.

But Satoru can perceive it.

The driver has had his left hand buried in his crotch the whole time. Goddamn revolting.

But Satoru gets it.

And Suguru.

Poor, tortured Suguru.

Satoru has never seen his best friend this blue balled in his entire life.

He has seen Suguru take swords to the chest. Satoru has seen him swallow shit curses as big as the Burj Khalifa. He’s seen Suguru suffer.  

And yet, he has never suffered like this.

There’s a light sheen of sweat draped on his forehead. His jaw is so tightly clenched his molars could vaporize into thin air. His hand drunkenly runs up and down your back when you bend over and dangle your fucking prize in Suguru’s face.

In Satoru’s face.

You are a tease.

And Satoru has every intention of getting you back for this.

There will be hell to pay for how irresistible you are. It’s maddening.

You could ask for the world and Satoru would bring you the Milky Way. You pout your lips and bat your eyelashes and somehow, somehow the batteries in Satoru’s brain die.

Every. Fucking. Time.

The whole car comes to a proverbial halt. Because you lean over to Shoko once more. Your dress bunched a little too high around your hips. Plump, perky ass cheeks in near full view in Suguru’s lap.

“Baby?” A snowflake hitting the ground in that car might as well be a raging hurricane. With how silent it is.

Satoru swallows the sharpest, driest rocks known to man.

Suguru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. He’ll draw blood in a minute.

“Y-yes?” Shoko answers your call.

Starless skies fill the car but Satoru can see Shoko’s high crimson blush from the backseat.

Baby? Holy shit, Ieiri.

“Kiss me,” Melody on your lips is strong enough to sink a Navy fleet.

What Satoru sees next will be burned into his psyche for the rest of his life.

His overgrown cock throbs against his thigh. Beating more aggressively with each passing second.

He can’t remember when he pulled his glasses off. To watch your tongue wire into Shoko’s accepting, desperate mouth. You thread both of your hands into her hair while your mouth molests hers.

All in plain view of Satoru and Suguru.

And Shoko has no idea what to do with herself. Satoru can’t blame her. She’s full of high pitched moans and pants, drunk off of your love elixir.

God. Fucking. Damn.

“Oh, oh it’s that kind of night?”

Satoru is fully aware of the slur to his words. And the flecks of blood now currently under his finger nails from digging into his palms the way he is.

And you laugh in the way wind chimes sing in the breeze. How Satoru imagines the angels in heaven strum harps. Your voice is so…disarming.

“What, you jealous pretty boy?”

You flash him a smile that Satoru is sure doubles as the cure for any and all communicable diseases. A smile that could get answers out of the CIA or KGB.

“Maybe. A little bit.” Satoru is all rasp. His hand palms his length on its own accord.

He has no control here.

Your eyes flicker down to Satoru’s mouth for a millisecond. And in a flash his lips are on yours.

He grips a handful of hair like it’s his life-force. Your kiss is sweet. And dizzying. And toxic. Nothing like this can be pure, it can’t be good. Satoru is convinced his heart will stop beating after taking a bite out the apple in your Garden of Eden.

But he could die on your lips. Right here. Right now.

“Oh Satoru…” you purr into his mouth and he shamelessly squeezes his cock.

You are unfair.

'I’m jealous too, pretty girl.” Suguru’s voice slices through the thick lusty silence.

You say nothing before you pull off of Satoru’s wanting lips and take in Suguru.

Satoru and Shoko watch you nestle deeper into Suguru’s lap.

His hands drift from your waist, to your hips, around to your ass. The way your flesh dimples when he squeezes sends electric currents through Satoru’s cock.

He watches you deepen your kiss with Suguru, who is so clearly tantalized. So clearly about to split you in half.

His fingers twitch along his zipper for a second.

Then time stops.

And so does the taxi.

You take a second to pull away from Suguru’s lips but Satoru doesn’t miss how puffy and flushed your mouth is.

Your eyes dart between the three of them. Then out the window.

“Oh! We’re home!”

FINALE

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maplesyrupsainz · 16 days

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˖⁺｡˚⋆˙third wheel | CL16˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: charles leclerc x actress!reader y/n (she/her) x alexandra saint mleux

genre: social media au, polyamorous relationship

warnings: polyamory

summary: in which you and your girlfriend have to keep yourselves entertained whilst your boyfriend is busy with work

a/n: ig alex's insta isnt on priv jus for the sake of the story tehe

request!!!: I really don't have any plot ideas other than the fact that I want to see more Alexandra content, why is everyone acting like she’s not dead gorgeous? Anyway, maybe a smau with Charles x actress!reader x Alex??? Idk 🤷🏼‍♀️

my masterlist

instagram ->

f1wagupdates

liked by user18, user33, user2 and 74,927 others

f1wagupdates alexandra saint mleux and y/n y/l/n spotted out together in monaco tonight – charles leclerc not spotted with them like he usually is!

view all 5,164 comments

user1 y/n third wheeling much

user2 she's literally in a throuple with them fym

user1 it's never been confirmed stop with the crazy conspiracies

user3 yea she just hangs out with them 24/7, platonically though 🙄

user4 ppl who still don't believe they're in a throuple are just homophobic at this point

user5 they're so cute together

user6 i love alex & y/n more than alex & charles 😝

user7 they r both so elegant <33

yourusername posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, sydney_sweeney, and 285,766 others

user8 fav girls

charles_leclerc 😻😻

liked by yourusername

user9 alex is so elegant

user10 wish i was u y/n

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 88,624 others

charles_leclerc Wow

alexandrasaintmleux that's what i said

user11 i love her

user12 her outfits always slay

user13 coolest girl on the planet

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 883,636 others

yourusername what no plans with my girl looks like

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

user14 GOALSSS OMG

sydney_sweeney miss you y/n <3

yourusername 🥺 me too i'll see u nxt time im in LA

sydney_sweeney PLEASE

alexandrasaintmleux love you 🫶🫶

yourusername love you love you love you

charles_leclerc so so so gorgeous

yourusername real, she is

alexandrasaintmleux no, her!

user15 and you expect me to believe they're not in a throuple

user16 invite me next time 🙄

user17 me when

yourusername posted a story

liked by yoursister, landonorris, and 163,273 others

charles_leclerc stop it!!!

yourusername stop what 🥺

charles_leclerc hanging out without me.......

yourusername miss you too charlie

charles_leclerc one more week

yourusername we're counting down 🫶

user18 alexandra again??

user19 so cute luv when u have breaks between filming

landonorris posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and 188,743 others

user20 omg y/n??? she must be a wag

charles_leclerc NOT YOU TOO???

landonorris keeping them safe!

charles_leclerc THEM?? you're with alex too 😔

landonorris 😇

user21 omg cute?!?!!

user22 fourple now🤓🤓🤓

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 189,636 others

charles_leclerc i miss you have a good day

yourusername tysm sweetest❤️

alexandrasaintmleux posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 124,064 others

charles_leclerc stop torturing me!

alexandrasaintmleux dont be such a baby

lilymhe posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, and 101,736 others

charles_leclerc omg 😍

liked by lilymhe

user29 this is giving.....more throuple proof

messages ->

instagram ->

alexandrasaintmleux

liked by francisca.cgomes, yourusername, and 264,193 others

alexandrasaintmleux 💋

tagged: charles_leclerc, yourusername

view all 6,273 comments

yourusername prettiest girl in the world

charles_leclerc i second that

alexandrasaintmleux 🤭🤭🤭

user30 everything about this is screaming throuple confirmation

user31 the way alex is looking at y/n 🥹

user32 RIGHT??! i thought it was just me

user33 i didn't know charles was back alr

pierregasly did you kidnap charles

alexandrasaintmleux no he'd just rather be with us than with you

user34 US??!!!!

user35 the three drinks ...

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,732,047 others

yourusername ☀️

tagged: charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux

view all 33,917 comments

user36 HELLOOOO????

user37 i just screamed my head off at the last slide

user38 the pic of y/n and alex omg my heartttt

user39 KNEW IT

user40 throuple deniers rn: 🙁

user41 the thirst trap pic and then the big reveal

charles_leclerc wow you two are so insanely gorgeous

alexandrasaintmleux she is, isn't she? :)

yourusername alex ur literally a model

alexandrasaintmleux fight me!!

charles_leclerc NO! we only love here

alexandrasaintmleux sorry. i love you my sweetie pies

yourusername i love u i love u both always

charles_leclerc i love my girls 🥰

THE END ❤️

1K notes · View notes

doomedmoth · 8 days

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Better kind of best friend

Pairing : Reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux x Charles Leclerc | Poly & bisexual fem!reader

Warnings : slight emotional cheating, obsessive/possessive/manipulative behavior, suggestive content/smut, fluff then angst then dark fluff, inaccurate racing calendar and school programs, polyamory, use of y/n

Synopsis : When you left the UK for a year long art restoration program in Monaco, you mainly wanted to make some friends. What you didn’t expect was to find your best friend on the first day. And then fall in love with her. And then get tangled in the web of Monaco high society as her boyfriend came back to town, unaware of your little affairs. What the fuck happened to you, you just wanted to make some friends…

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi frieeeends, sorry for any mistakes, I haven’t written more than blurbs in a while. The poly, Charles, dark parts and smut will happen in the next chapters, I intend on making three of them. The first is mostly gay panic and tooth rotting fluff, so enjoy before it all goes to shit !!

As you stepped outside of Nice’s airport, you felt like you were finally breathing. The weather wasn’t particularly gloomy when you had left London, but nothing compared to the Mediterranean sun and the breeze of the sea. It had always had an inexplicable calming effect on you, now only interrupted by an old French woman throwing what sounded like insults at you as she moved past you towards the parking lot. The sea, you had missed. French people, not so much.

As you embarked on your second journey of buses and trains to your final destination, you took the time of going once more over the details of what would be your schedule those next few months. After getting your degree in Conservation and Restoration of Cultural Heritage, your parents thought it would only do you good to go practice on the field before even thinking of applying to any museum in the UK. You had gone on vacation on the French south coast a few times with them, and in a surprising but welcome turn of events, the Pavillon Bosio, Monaco’s art school, was organizing an internship welcome to all students of arts degrees in Europe. For your parents, a precious opportunity to add an experience to your CV in a prestigious setting. For you, the occasion to enjoy the beach and make friends in an artist residency after five years of hard work at university. Win-win.

The sun was setting on the hills when you finally settled into your room at the residency. Located close to the school, in the high parts of Monaco, the house was old but gorgeous, with pale pink walls and palm trees everywhere in the garden. Ivy leaves were growing at your window, which gave you a view of the port lighting up in the evening. Three floors high, there were a total of 8 bedrooms, all to be occupied by students of the Bosio program. The two remaining were, according to the brief, residents of Monaco.

You threw yourself on the bed with a sigh, your suitcases not even opened yet. The birds were singing softly and your eyes started to flutter in rhythm with them. If you did not make a move, you would be fast asleep, you thought. Yet it seemed like such an effort…

“Ciaoooo !” You sat straight up from the fluffy bed, meeting a pair of green eyes in the opening of the door “Oh scusa, ti ho svegliato ?”

The girl had gorgeous ginger hair, though likely unnatural, flowing down to her waist, and a mischievous smile. She seemed a bit younger than you, and kept staring back at you until you shook your head and answered.

“Sorry ! Um, English is okay ? For you ? No parlo…” was it even parlo ? You were trying to get your point across, hoping she would forgive your mistakes. “No parlo Italiano ?”

“Aaaah yeah yeah sure !” She chuckled, her accent even richer in English. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up ? I just arrived, it seems like we’re the only ones there…”

“No, no don’t worry, I was just resting my eyes. I did not check the other rooms, are we really ?” She nodded, pouting and crossing her arms. She probably expected a big welcome party. “I’m Y/N.”

“Chiara ! Let’s go have a drink when you’ve unpacked !”

You smiled as the girl waved and trotted downstairs. She was right, unpacking right now would probably be a good idea.

“Cazzo, la mia testa…” Chiara groaned while walking down the stairs from her bedroom to the shared kitchen.

Definitely, you had been right to not follow her in town the day before the start of “classes”. The bottle of wine you downed together in under half an hour had been enough, and when she had left to go explore the nearest bars, you had opted for a swift retreat into your room.

This coincided with the arrival of two other students, with whom you spent the rest of the evening making small talk. Apparently another one had arrived in the night.

The Italian boy you hadn’t met was immediately assaulted by Chiara, who seemed to know him. And it also seemed the feeling wasn’t mutual. You understood almost nothing of their exchange, but it made you and your new roommates laugh quite a lot.

The rest of the morning passed slowly, your shared breakfast only interrupted by Chiara’s flow of anecdotes, and a few exchanges about where each one of you was coming from and what studies you did before. One of the girls you had met the night before was going through the rule book of the residency, staring out loud the facts she found relevant.

It’s only around twelve, as you were all getting ready to head to the school for your first meeting, that the three last students arrived to the house. A few pleasantries were exchanged, a promise of a good meal together tonight to meet properly, and you all left the residency, following happily the little path from the garden up the hills.

The Pavillon Bosio looked more like a huge villa than a school, hidden between the trees. With its cute red roof and stunning view of the sea, you were all in awe as you entered through the gates.

“Bonjour, bonjour tout le monde ! This way please, for the restoration workshop right ? This way, come !” An old bearded man with a thick French accent welcomed you all, guiding you through the corridors of the school.

You settled in a small classroom, tables filled with paper cups, coffee dispensers and pastries. The old man introduced himself as the head of the program, and encouraged you to have a drink and get to know each other while waiting for the last two students. You couldn’t help but notice that some things never change, it’s always the one who live the closest who are the latest.

But you had barely any time to put down your bags and take a coffee before laughter was heard in the hallway, two voices clearly making their way towards you. And as they entered the room, your head started spinning.

There they were, the two monegasques, the last missing pieces of your eclectic little group of students. The man was quite elegant, dressed all in black in spite of the warm temperature, and body dripping with gold jewelry. But the girl, oh the girl… With long straight chestnut hair, and eyes of an even darker shade of brown, she was holding on to her friend’s arms with a delicacy only found in children who grew up bathed in the finest luxuries. She was wearing a white summer dress that did nothing to hide the shape of her body, and accentuated her sun-kissed skin. Everyone turned to them as they entered the room, but it seemed to you her eyes were only on you. The thought that you would have been the first to catch her attention made you blush, and you went on to hide your embarrassment in your cup of coffee.

“Alexandra, Luca, bienvenue ! Toujours un plaisir de vous revoir !” The old man, whose name you had learnt was Jean-Paul, went on to shake the hands of the two students, who he seemed to know already. “Je vous en prie, installez vous, prenez un café !”

The man, Luca if you understood correctly, stayed by the teacher’s side, engaging in a conversation punctuated by loads of “Oh !” and “Ah”, but the girl made her way to you with a determination that made you want to hide under the table.

She lost no time serving herself a cup of coffee and a pastry, and turned to you with a smile brighter than the summer sun. As she put her hand on your shoulder, leaning in to lay a kiss on each of your cheeks, you felt as if all the air had been sucked from your body.

“Alexandra, nice to meet you !”

And just like that, your whole world had turned upside down.

In the days that followed that meeting, all the little group of students started to get along pretty well, getting to know each other from their studies to the role they would play in your year-long project, while also sharing personal anecdotes at night, under the trees of the residency’s garden.

But the bond you felt with Alexandra, that was something else. It was as if you two had known each other forever, everything flowed smoothly, and your passions were either shared by the girl, or met with genuine curiosity and interest. Not even two weeks had passed and you already had little habits, inside jokes and plans for the rest of the year.

In the first stage of the program, the work was mainly research and preparation of the artworks, which meant that except for the mandatory seminars and meetings here and there, you were free to schedule your work time and partners as you pleased. This led to Alexandra coming to the house every morning, having breakfast with you, and going to the school together, or settling in your bedroom with your computers and working, or at least trying, together. If you gave yourself free time, she would take you to museums, or restaurants she enjoyed, or just lying down in parks as she tried to teach you some French. She was kind and patient, and in a desperate wish to get her to like you, you tried to be the best student, reading diligently every book she recommended you.

You quickly realized that although she was a true social butterfly, the whole group of students enjoying having her around, she was much more comfortable when you were just the two of you. She would often suggest you sneak off from team activities, wanting to share the secrets of the city she grew up in only with you. And there was no way you would complain about that. By the end of September, you deeply felt like you had found the best of best friends.

You didn’t know how it got so bad so quickly. No, actually, you did. Alexandra was the worst kind of best friend for someone as prone as you to catch feelings. You had always been quite close physically with your friends, hugging and holding hands were essentials for you to express your affection, but you also knew how weak you could be to pet names and fluttering eyelashes, and with each day that passed, she was making it harder for you to only see her as a friend.

You knew she was aware of her beauty and of how everyone seemed to gravitate towards her, but how could she not realize that the amount of affection she gave you was on the borderline of what would be considered “normal” for a girl friendship ? How could she so casually play with your hair, nails softly digging into your scalp as she lulled you to sleep, your head on her legs in your bed ? How could she lack all sense of modesty, casually undressing in front of you when preparing for a party, and expecting you to help her choose a dress as if you weren’t face to face with her lacy underwear and model body.

You truly despised yourself for ruining such a pure friendship with those thoughts, and desperately tried to remember to not break her trust by being not better than those “nice guys” you had so often dealt with yourself. But what you thought could be a simple physical attraction, something that would pass with a few drinks and the arms of an unknown frenchie, turned into a feeling that burned your insides and made your heart ache a little bit more everyday.

You had so often longed for a soft love, someone who would accept and care for you with the same warmth as you would for them. Friends, good friends, you always had many. Deep friendship, much less so. But the bond you had with Alexandra, you had never experienced it before. You were starting to think that if you had ever felt love before, it had been nothing more than a crush in comparison to this.

You tried to be a good friend. Controlling your breathing when she touched you. Inviting others to your gatherings when you felt you might confess after one too many drinks. Trying not to read too much into her actions, but damn it, she really seemed to be like this only with you.

In the end, what lost you were the pet names. One in particular, she would always throw carelessly as if the word didn’t roll on her lips, sweet like honey.

“Coucou mon chou !”

Waving at you and jumping in your arms, she would repeat the pet name again and again just to see you blush, and who were you to deny her… At first you did not know the meaning of it, and thinking of it, maybe you should have never asked.

It was the middle of October, and you were working with her and Chiara in the school, getting started on repairing some of the minor artworks that were entrusted to you. Well, more like you and Chiara were working, and Alexandra was tagging along out of boredom. With her degree in Art History, her role in the workshop wasn’t as much on the artworks than on their exposition. Which mostly meant your ginger friend was peeling little gold leaves while listening to EDM so loud you could still shake your head in rhythm through her headphones, and Alexandra was glued to you, even in the most uncomfortable of positions.

She had started working on little braids in your hair when, once again, the pet name was used.

“Mon chou, d’you have any hair ties ?”

“What does it mean ?” You asked as plainly as possible, while giving her the hair tie on your wrist.

“What does what mean ?”

“Mon chou. I guess that’s a nickname but you haven’t taught me what it means.” Something good, you hoped. Something sweet.

“No way you don’t know what’s a chou ?!” She grabbed you by the shoulders and you had to follow her movement swiftly in order to not ruin your work “Un chou ? Like… un chou à la crème ?” You nodded no, a bit shameful. You should have looked it up yourself. “It’s a pastry, dear. Something delicious, very airy, the best are filled with cream ? My favorite.” She planted a kiss on your cheek, and you thought, honest to god, that you could die happy on the spot. “Just like you.”

If only this had stopped there. But the next day, when she came to the residency, she snuck the breakfast directly into your room. You had barely woken up when she sat on the side of your bed, seemingly quite excited. She made you sit up and pushed some strands of hair behind your ears before placing the small pastry box on your knees.

“What is this Alex…?” You groaned while pushing back the curtains with one hand, rubbing your eyes with the other.

“Des choux !” She was grinning from ear to ear, and did not give you much more time to comprehend before opening the box. In it, a myriad of little golden cream puffs were staring back at you. “Des choux pour mon chou !” She giggled at her joke and you could not help but laugh too, for the gift was both actually funny, and sweet. “You gotta taste !”

You agreed, but she seemed to have something else in mind as she took one between her slender fingers and brought it up to your mouth. Surely she would not…? And surely she did. Taking advantage of your stupid lack of reaction time, she softly pushed the pastry between your lips, not enough to make you gag on it, yet you could still feel her digit rubbing your bottom lip before making an exit, leaving you dumbfounded and mouth full of the soft cream. Oh yes, you were definitely fucked.

October came to an end, the heavy temperatures and lazy afternoons on the beach leaving place to walks in the old town, cuddled together under one huge scarf. But the evening breeze did nothing to appease the fire in your heart, nor did it slow the speed at which your feelings for Alexandra deepened every day. If not too long ago, you wished for your friendship to stay as pure as the summer sky, now you only longed to confess, lay your heart out before her as a sacrifice, telling her to eat it raw, and the whole of you with it. It was a mixture of love, devotion and desire so strong, she could have asked you to worship her and you would have built a cathedral in her honor.

But you were oh so afraid of ruining everything. If she didn’t return your feelings, that was one thing. But what if she hated you for it ? You could not bear the thought of being apart from her, especially knowing you would still have to work with her for the rest of the year. You would rather eat your feelings than let it happen.

You were still pondering what it could mean for you both when you arrived at her apartment, in the very center of Monaco. You had been there quite a few times, even more recently, to work, to crash after evenings out, or just to have sleepovers, like tonight. It was very well located, and filled with expensive and tasteful furniture, but you did not really like it.

She had explained to you that she did her studies in Paris, and her parents still lived in Monaco. She would also often hang out at friends’ places, in and out of Monaco, and even spend weekends outside of the country quite frequently, with friends as well. The apartment was mostly a safety net, an investment, but you could feel nothing of her in it. It was barely decorated, a bit more those last few weeks now that you two were constantly buying stupid trinkets in token of your friendship, but you did not see her in it.

Yet, as she opened the door and took you instantly in her arms, whispering in your ear, home is the only word that came to your mind.

“Bonsoir mon petit chou”

“Bonsoir louloute” you answered sheepishly with your shitty accent, greeting her with the pet name she had taught you, one her friend Luca often used. It did not mean anything, just sounded cute.

She giggled, taking your hand and leading you inside. Very quickly, through music, wine and hair curlers, the mood for the evening was set. The alcohol made you speak more freely, and hopefully, it would help Alexandra too. Even though she said you knew things about her that nobody else did, there were still many subjects where you could feel her hesitation to delve in. It’s okay, with time, she would trust you about those too, you were sure of it.

She was babbling on about some friends’ drama while sitting on the edge of the window, when you took in the sight in front of you. She had taken off her hair curlers, and put on a satin robe that was slowly falling down her shoulder. The show of lights behind her, flickering between the moon and the glow of the city’s street lamps, made her features stand out even more. Her hair looked so shiny, her skin so soft, and the sparkle in her eye… Nothing she said really mattered, yet you could listen to her for hours and hours, as long as she kept blessing you with this sight.

You must have stared too intensely or for too long, because she came down from her seat and knelt on the floor, right in front of you, softly cupping your cheek with her hand.

“Ça va mon chou ?” Her brows furrowed, and she brought her other hand to your forehead. “You okay ?”

Her hot breath, inches away from your face. Her perfume, tickling your nose, you could almost see it dripping from her neck. Her fingers, drawing small figures on your cheeks. And her lips… there she was, so close, almost face to face, you had dreamt of this so often, and only now you realized how pink her lips were.

Maybe it was the amount of wine, maybe the temperature in her living room, but everything started spinning, and before you knew it, you had closed the gap and crashed your lips against hers. One hand on her small waist, the other in her hair, the kiss was messy, sticky like honey, you wanted to bite and barely restrained yourself. You felt like your heart was about to explode when she moaned into your mouth, and you were pretty sure you felt it drop when she pulled away.

For what felt like an eternity, you stayed silent, panting, eyes locked, air heavy with the realization of what had just happened. She blushed, and you started smiling, before she spoke in a shaky breath, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N… I’m sorry I…. I have a boyfriend…”

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

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minkyungseokie · 1 month

Text

Three's A Crowd | Pierre Gasly + Kika Gomes

synopsis; y/n meets Kika and Pierre and they're immediately smitten. They try to express their interest, but it seems everyone except Y/n sees that

warnings; polyamory, controversial age gaps, implied homophobic family, implied religious ideology, random Portuguese and French pet names

note; requested

note2; I don't really like Kika, but it's that type where you don't dislike someone, but you don't like them either. I'm neutral about her ig

reader is African American with 3B hair

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Pierre Masterlist

I do not give anyone permission to change, copy, or put my work on any other platform. It will only be on top, so if you see it, please report it. Or let me know.

Although the relationship was new, Kika and Pierre were secure in their relationship. They trusted each other even though the the relationship was so new for them. They didn't think they'd be attracted to anyone other than each other. Kika never could've seen herself with someone of the same gender or anything.

Until they saw her.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Kika was standing with Pierre in front of the Alpine garage, listening and looking around as Pierre talked to Charles about god knows what. She looked around the paddock until something caught her attention. It was an incoming group of people that included a bunch of visitors, engineers, Zhou, and a gorgeous woman who she had never seen before.

"Pierre. Pierre. Look." Kika tapped on her boyfriend's shoulder to greet his attention, "What is it?" Pierre asked, turning and putting an arm around the nineteen-year-old. "Who's that?" Kika questioned, pointing to the girl she had seen, "I don't know." Pierre answered breathily, "She's so pretty." Kika muttered and Pierre couldn't help but to agree, "But not as pretty as you." Pierre quickly added, kissing the top of her head.

"Shut up, Pierre." Kika joked, playfully slapping his chest while not taking her eyes off of the girl, "Charles, do you know who she is?" Pierre asked, pointing towards the girl who was in a pair of patchwork jeans, a yellow crop top with a weird pattern on it, and brown Prada platform shoes(if you don’t like the outfit, or you’re plus size, or you don’t wear immodest clothing, feel free to change it. I want to be inclusive!)

"Oh, she’s a friend I’ve known since her birth. She grew up with Arthur. " Charles said, "Is she single?" Another voice chimed in playfully. Lando popped up with a huge smile, showing that he was just joking, “She is single and in need of other friends or even a boyfriend. She third wheels with my girlfriend and I way too often.” Charles joked. “Introduce us to her.” Pierre blurted, eyes widening when his friends and girlfriend turned to him with questioning looks, “What? You said she needed more friends.” Pierre defended.

“She does, but preferably single friends. And not you.” Charles jested causing Pierre to clutch his pearls, “I’ll have you know, I’m a great friend, Charles.” Pierre gasped. Lando and Kika tittered at the duo, “I don’t see why I couldn’t introduce you to her. Are you coming with Lando?” Charles asked, looking to the Brit, “As much as I’d love to, I’m being called to the garage. I’ll meet her later though.” Lando offered, turning and walking off.

Charles led the way to the Ferrari garage with the couple trailing behind, “Hey, Y/n!” Charles greeted, giving the girl a tight hug, “Charlie! I’m so glad you invited me to come watch you race. I’ve missed you.” The girl said, returning the hug. “I’ve missed you too. There’s some people I want to introduce you to. This is my best friend and his girlfriend.” Charles let go of you and gestured to the couple behind him.

Pierre and Kika stepped forward with welcoming smiles, “Hello, I’m Pierre Gasly. It’s wonderful to meet you.” Pierre greeted, shaking her hand, “I’m Francisca Gomes, but you can call me Kika.” Kika introduced also holding out her hand. The beautiful woman gave them a smile and clasped their outstretched hand in both of her, shaking it in greeting starting with Pierre, “My name is Y/n L/n. It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Gasly and Ms. Gomes.” Y/n said.

“Oh? You don’t have to call us Ms and Mr. We can’t be that much older than you.” Pierre waved off the formalities, “I’m eighteen.” Y/n spoke.

“Oh.”

After a moment of still silence, Kika spoke up, “Well, I’m only a year older. Just call me Kika and him, Pierre. No need to be formal with us.” Kika said, “Oui, any friends of Charles is a friend of ours.” Pierre added.

“Well, I hope to become good friends with you.”

It's been four long and beautiful years of friendship for the three since then, or, Y/n thought it was friendship. Kika and Pierre had fallen for the charm of the curly-haired beauty only a few months into the friendship. It took a bit of denial and acceptance for both, mostly on Kika's part since she's never been interested in another woman ever in her life, but the two eventually agreed that they would pursue the girl, but only after they tested out the waters.

After they were sure that they really wanted to be with her as more than friends, they began to fully pursue her. They flirted, they gifted her things, they joked, they laughed, they invited her on dates (that she didn't know were dates), and they were touchy. They were sure that Y/n would catch the hint and let them know whether she was comfortable with what they were doing or not, but there's one thing they didn't account for.

Y/n being completely unaware and oblivious of their intentions.

The girl knew so much about a lot of things, but not when people were flirting with her. And now it's been going on for three and a half years. They've given so many hints that literally everyone except Y/n knew that the couple were into her the way they were.

"Pierre, why don't you just tell her that you're into her?" Esteban asked, putting an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, "I'm not sure, but we agreed to not just spring it on her like that. We wanted to ease her into it, but does not getting the hint." Pierre sighed. "She's not going to get it unless you tell her. She's been like this all her life, which is why she never had a relationship before." Charles explained, "She's never been in a relationship? How? She's gorgeous." Pierre scoffed.

"Didn't you hear him, mate? It's because she's oblivious." Lando spoke up, joining the group who were standing in front of McLaren garage like a bunch of gossiping high schoolers. "What are we talking about?" Lewis asked as he and Carlos joined the group, "You know how Pierre and Kika are into Y/n? We were just asking him any they didn't just ask her out." Charles explained. Lewis and Carlos looked at Pierre, "So why don't you?" Carlos questioned, Pierre groaned, "Kika and I felt like we shouldn't just outright ask her. We didn't want to force it on her." Pierre said.

"She's never going to get it off you don't tell her." Lewis said, "That's what I said!" Charles exclaimed, fist bumping his future teammate. "We're planting to take her out after this weekend. We're going to spend time together in Italy and maybe vacation together of the girls aren't busy." Pierre sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oooh, that's a great idea. Maybe get an accommodation with only one room and one bed so you all have to share." Lando offered teasingly, "That's not a bad idea actually." Pierre muttered. "Where are you thinking of going?" Oscar spoke up, "Probably Bali. Maybe we'll stay in Italy. We're not sure yet." Pierre answered.

Soon, the group dispersed to go to their drivers rooms to get ready for the race.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Y/n was honestly scared. She had always been openly {your sexuality} and proud about what she was into, but falling for two people at the same time? And two people who were happily together? She felt like a villain. She didn't want to accidentally break up a happy couple because she assumed that they'd be as interested in her as she is to them.

She distanced herself from Pierre and Kika, afraid she would get too attached to couple and accidentally make them uncomfortable with her attraction to them. She still went to the grand prix because she had friends she wanted to support, but instead of going to the Alpine garage like she usually would, she went to the Williams garage to support her favorite British Thai driver and give comfort to her favorite American while she was there. "I know this really isn't my place to ask, but why are you here?" Logan asked, putting the headphones over Y/n's ears for her.

"What do you mean? I'm here for you and Alex. Plus, Lily is here and I do love Lily." Y/n answered, "Love you too!" Lily called back walking up to the duo, "No, I mean, why are you here when you want to be with Kika in the Alpine garage?" Logan reiterated. Y/n sighed, "Because I feel like I'm getting too attached to them. They're a couple who are obviously in love." Y/n said, crossing her arms, "And? They love having you around them. You make them so happy and everyone sees it. I don't think that you being attached to them is a problem." Lily spoke up. "They have something great between them. I feel like if I stay around, I'll reveal how I feel and they'll get disgusted and force me stay away." Y/n ranted, playing with one of her bouncy curls.

Lily and Logan shared a wide-eyed look. They were glad that they had a bit of time before theso they could fully talk, "Y/n, are you...in love with them? Both of them?" Logan asked. Y/n began to sniffle, "Yes! I know it's disgusting and greedy of me to not only want both of them, but to want people who are already happily in love. I know I'm a disgusting creature who doesn't deserve to live for loving someone that I was not intended to love." Y/n cried softly. Lily pulled Y/n into their arms, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's neck, "Oh, honey. It's not disgusting at all. I don't know who told you any of that, but no one has any right to tell you that you're disgusting for loving who you want to love." Lily cooed, wiping away your tears.

"Are things alright over here? Are you alright, Y/n?" James questioned, "Did you hear what we were talking about?" Logan questioned, "Admittedly, I did and I'm here to say Lily is right. Your family cannot may be your blood, but if they do not accept you for who you are and love you despite what you love, they cannot be considered family. No one has any right to tell you that you are going to die and go to hell for loving who you want to love." James comforted. "Plus, you don't need them. You have us. Logan, me, Alex, and even James. You have the Leclerc family and Kika and Pierre. We all love you for you." James reassured, "Don't push Kika and Pierre away. They care for you deeply. If you really are worried, maybe you should talk to them about it." Logan suggested.

Y/n dried their eyes off completely and took off her headphones, "I'm going to the bathroom." Y/n muttered, gently pushing past them and made her way to the Alpine garage. They were right. She can't let her family and their ideology keep her from loving who she wanted to love. She wouldn't be telling the couple about her feelings, but she would no longer be pushing them away like she was. Taking a deep breath, Y/n entered the garage and stopped next to the couple who were engrossed in a conversation, "Uh, hey." Y/n spoke up.

The couple practically break their necks turning to look the girl, "Minha linda! We were just talking about you." Kika gasped happily, throwing her arms around Y/n's neck, "We were afraid that you were running away from us. We missed you, mon bijou." Pierre joined the pseudo hug and planting a kiss on the top of her head. Esteban and Flavy watched from the sidelines, wondering how in the world Y/n just thought that these actions were nothing but platonic when it was clear that they were utterly down bad for the girl with sepia skin and thick ringlets of curls just as she was for them, "I wish they would just get together." Flavy whispered, "For real. It was cute at first, but now it's kind of sad." Esteban agreed.

"I'm sorry. I just needed some time to take care of something and now I'm here to wish you good luck." Y/n smiled up at the Frenchman, "Help me put on my helmet?" Pierre asked the girls. Kika helped him put on his balaclava before stepping back so Y/n could put the helmet on Pierre's head. "Good luck." Y/n said, patting the part of the helmet where his cheek would be and turning to walk, but before she could exit the garage, Kika pulled her back, "No good luck kiss?" Pierre asked, which confused Y/n as they had never asked for one before. Y/n shrugged, thinking nothing of it as she had kissed the cheeks of her other friends before.

Y/n saddled up next to Pierre and planted a kiss on his helmet where his cheek would be, "Good luck out there. Do your best." Y/n repeated before turning to Kika and planting a kiss on her cheek while she had the moment of bravery. "See you guys later." Y/n turned away, walking out of the garage before she busted into a ball of flames from the amount of embarrassment she was feeling.

Kika and Pierre were just watching the girl as she left with love-struck gazes, "We have to make her ours or I'll die." Kika dramatically sighed, "I agree. She drives me crazy and she doesn't even know what's she's doing." Pierre agreed with Kika nodding in agreement

Y/n was confused and conflicted.

Y/n had been offered to come to Italy by Kika and Pierre after the GP was over as they had rented a little place on the beach for them to stay at while on vacation. She, of course, accepted the invite because she had never really been to Italy despite being all over the world. She wanted to take some time to relax and spend time with the ones she really cared for. What better way to spend the next week and a half or so before she gets gray hair during the next race.

But one thing she had not expected was the beach hut thing to have only one bed, “So we’re all sharing this one bed? Are you sure that you’re comfortable with this?” Y/n asked, looking at the bed. “Yeah, it was this or our house and we weren’t sure whether you were comfortable with that or not.” Kika explained, putting her bag down. “Where’s Pierre?” Y/n asked, “He has a couple things to do, so for right now, it’s just you and me for right now. Exciting, yeah?” Kika asked excitedly.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Y/n agreed,

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Pierre arrived at the little beach house and entered with a sigh. He had so much to do that day, he missed spending time with his girls, but at least he’d have the next day with them. Kika had posted photos of them playing in the water and Pierre couldn’t help but feel pride at how many people were asking whether he could fight and whining about how he could pull two baddies while they couldn’t even get a text back.

Pierre unlocked the door and put his suitcase to the side and walked into the room to see Kika curled up in Y/n’s arms. Pierre’s heart raced at the sight of the two people he loved being so close together and he couldn’t wait for Y/n to actually be theirs. Pierre took a quick shower and changed into his pajamas, climbing into the bed behind Y/n and cuddling up to her.

It was the best night’s sleep the three of them had ever gotten.

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simpforsoap · 2 months

Text

Monstrous Lovers- Part 1

Part Two Part Three

It was honest a shot in the dark when you posted that ad, not wanting to let go of your dream house quite yet. However, you couldn’t deny that it was getting harder and harder to make the bills by yourself. There was quite a bit of back and forth between sending the ad out or not, but after a simple post online, you felt it was a good deal, your best friend thinking you were crazy, but you posted it anyways.

Roommate Wanted

1 or more bedrooms, separate bathrooms ranch styled home in the country. Rent 2500/month includes utilities (including, internet, streaming sites, and electricity). Message me if interested, application and interview required prior to approval.

Bit about me: lone female, mixture of at home and in shop work, quiet lifestyle. No pets.

Text preferred if between hours 9 pm to 4 am. Thank you! (xxx) xxx-xxxx.

-----

Soap couldn’t believe his eyes, half blaming it on the tiring mission they had just finished and possible lack of food, but the ad seemed like a great deal. Maybe a little high in price, but he reread that ad three times before nudging Kyle’s shoulder. Gaz’s bleary eyes turned to look at him, half awake.

“What’s up?” his voice was filled with exhaustion, but Johnny paid it no mind (his own energy seemingly endless sometimes) as he turned his phone screen letting Gaz squint and blink a few times to focus on the bright screen.

Soap waited for Gaz to look up at him with an eye brow raised before speaking, “check it out, she posted this two days ago looking for a roommate. Seems like a good deal, maybe a bit pricey but it’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“I mean, yeah it’s a good deal and seems like a good idea, but…I don’t think ghost or the captain will go for it.” Gaz shrugged his shoulders, reading through the ad one more time, unable to deny the way his stomach seemed to twist with the idea of coming back to a home, not just the base.

“I think they’ll agree when they see it.” Soap shrugged, reading through the ad again, even going as far to click into your profile and scroll through some of the public photos you had.

Soap couldn’t stop the giddy feeling running through him as he waited for them to get back to the base, wanting to talk with Ghost and Price regarding this steal of a deal ad.

-------------

You were exhausted, after a long day of several interviews regarding the spare rooms you had, you were beginning to feel like you were gonna have to settle for either the roudy young couple in love, who happened to be expecting or the rather reclusive and silent male who you interviewed. They seemed nice, but you weren’t fully sold on the idea of one of them as roommates.

As you sat in the cafe, a cup of cold tea sitting in front of you, you weren’t expecting your phone to ring. You sighed once before picking it up, “hello?”

“Yeah, I got this number from an ad for some rooms for rent. I wanted to know if it was still available and if we could possible tour it.” The voice was deep, a very slight hoarness to it that made you sit up a bit.

“Uh, yeah we can tour it but I would prefer to do a meet and greet first. I’m at the cafe on the corner of sullivan and market if you want to meet me here.” You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing it was only a little past two meaning you could handle waiting around a bit longer.

“Perfect, we’ll be there in ten.” Before you could say anymore, the line hung up.

You sat there for a moment, contemplating the risk you were running before deciding ‘what’s the worst that can happen?’

-------

You sat there playing on your phone, having ordered a new tea as yours had gone cold. As you sat there, you jumped when the chair in front of you pulled out, looking up quickly, alarmed before blinking a few times in shock. “Uh…can I help you sir..or uh..sirs?”

You looked up at the men, four of them as the largest of them sat in the chair. You could look at them and tell they were hybrids. It wasn’t uncommon in the area anymore of the hybrids, but you were a little surprised as they sat at your table, thinking briefly how you believed hybrids to stay with one another. The seemingly leader of the four, held his hand out, his lone dragon wing tucked tightly behind his back, tail naturally coiling around the leg of his chair to not take up too much space, “John Price, I believe we spoke on the phone earlier regarding the rooms for rent?”

You blinked a few more times, watching the one with the mowhawk take a seat to your left, the other winged one sitting to your right while the one in an all black mask with his hood up stood behind John. “oh…uh right yes, sorry I…I wasn’t..”

You trailed off, not wanting to sound rude, the one to your left spoke up next a small laugh bubbling in his throat, “no worries, lass! Name’s Johnny, but you can call me Soap, that there is Kyle, or Gaz if you wanted to and the one back there is Ghost. We seen your ad for a roommate or possibly more, we’re very interested.”

You gave a small nervous smiling nodding as you looked at Johnny, then to Price and then Kyle and Ghost, “right, yes. I don’t know if I put it in the ad or not, but it’s a five bedroom ranch styles home, each of us would have their own rooms of course and their own bathrooms. Rent would be 2500 a month, which I know is a bit high, but I tried to throw in as much as I could with that as I could.”

Price nodded giving a small smile to try and put you at ease, “course. Now, the four of us would be the roommates, the price is not a concern at all. We are active duty, often in and out of the home due to work, but we want a place to come back to as home. Something a little more homey than the base is.”

You nodded giving a small smile, “of course, I understand that. I am a hair stylist so sometimes I have clients in home, but most times I work in my shop. I have no pets or anything, house sits on 20 acres of forest land, much of it has been untouched. I’m open to changing things on the property but I don’t want to adjust too much as I like the feel it has.”

You noticed the way Price seemed to take lead, “course, we don’t expect you to change for us love. Now, to get the elephant in the room out of the way, as you can tell we are hybrids. I personally am a dragon, Soap here is a werewolf, Gaz is a harpy and Ghost back here is a wraith. Would that be a dealbreaker for you? And it’s completely okay with being honest.”

You were quiet for a moment, thinking it over before shaking your head a bit, “no, it’s not a deal breaker. I’m not really sure how that works or anything but I’m willing to learn.” You gave a smile, trying to put them at ease, not seeing the way the four of them seemed to look between one another before nodding. “Now, would you like a tour of the house?”

Soap gave a large smile, showing off his sharpened canines, “Would love one lass.”

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gurugirl · 4 months

Text

Nympho | poly!nympho!harry

Summary: Y/n is a nymphomaniac who just loves people. One day she happens upon a "harem" arrangement that seems perfect for her and her insatiable appetite. Loosely based on this Tumblr request.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This has already been released on my Patreon. This is the first part of an au that follows Y/n as she explores a new kind of relationship with 9 other females and Harry. All subsequent parts will only be posted on Patreon.

Warning: 18+ only, smut, voyeurism (consented), exhibitionism, multiple partners

Y/n had a problem on her hands. A problem few knew about. In fact, so few people knew of her problem that it was limited to only herself and her therapist. And one accidental drunken confession to a stranger at a bar.

She was what the medical world called someone with compulsive sexual behavior. In other words, a nymphomaniac.

She laughed when her therapist told her the opinion. Hypersexuality. Nymphomania.

Y/n always thought she was more just a young woman with a high libido. A libido no one could match. No one she’d met anyway. She couldn't keep a boyfriend or girlfriend long enough because they couldn’t meet her needs. Sexually.

She just really needed it all the time.

And of course, there’s not a cure for such a thing. Therapy, antidepressants maybe (she had no interest in this route), meditation…

Her Google searches on ways to soothe herself in between dry spells or times when she was purposely trying to “detox” only rendered stupid articles and based medical opinions.

So instead of trying to deny herself of her natural urges she went down a rabbit hole on the internet and found that there were plenty of others just like herself.

She wound up coming across a private members-only forum where people could vent about their frustrations and even meet up with others to sate their desires. Not everyone on the forum was a nymphomaniac like herself. Some were seeking particular relationships. There were those looking for a third. One was seeking a partner to slap them across the face. But there was a section for those with high libidos and nymphomaniacs.

The problem with some on that forum was that they were married and looking for something discreet to have on the side. In other words, they were looking to cheat. Y/n wasn’t interested in that. She didn’t want to hurt anyone or sneak around that way.

She was a silent observer for a while. Reading posts and learning all about the way people dealt with their own problems.

The Meet & Greet section of the forum was interesting. Most of the posts were private, invite-only, or by request-only so she wasn't able to see all of them. But she came across a sort of invitation.

Seeking open-minded females to join my household. Open and loving relationships only. Poly. Inquire for more information. No judgment.

She knew she was probably polyamorous. She liked multiple partners and would grow close to anyone she had sex with but also had no issues knowing her partners had sex with others.

So she clicked the ad, filled out the short informational survey and included a photo of herself (her cutest), requested to join the conversation, and waited until she was approved.

A response came back within only minutes.

She learned that the man who placed the ad was wealthy and living with many women in a kind of poly arrangement. Living in his mansion (pictures of his estate included) with him were 9 women. They all shared one another sexually and emotionally. All the sex one could want while also being financially taken care of.

She received a picture of Harry and each of the 9 women.

It seemed almost too good to be true. But she couldn’t pass up the chance to meet with them and find out more.

. . .

She’d busted her ass at work that day. She worked at a bakery so her mornings were early. And Saturday mornings were the most grueling. The line out of the shop by 10 am was usually 20 people deep. And that day was no different.

The nice part about working at a bakery was that she was usually off work by 1 pm. On Saturdays sometimes they sold out by noon.

She showered and threw on a dress and dried her hair before rushing to pour her coffee into a travel mug and set Harry’s address into her phone as she jumped into her car.

He told her that there was no rush to meet him by 3 but she hated being late. She was also quite anxious to meet everyone. To see what the setup was and find out if it was legit.

She did google the man of course. He was extremely wealthy and attractive. Did some charity work. There wasn’t too much about him. But he seemed to be credible.

When she arrived at the destination she was floored. She stopped her car in front of the tall gates and gawked at the details along the iron and stone. She couldn’t see beyond the gate but suddenly they began to slowly open up. The long driveway stretched into the property lined with trees and lovely landscaped shrubs with a fountain or two but when the trees parted and the drive wound into a circle in front of the home it was like something out of a movie.

She couldn’t even count the levels of the place. 3? 4 or maybe 5? It was difficult to tell from her little car.

She pulled the break lever and parked before getting out and staring up at the details on the façade of the mansion.

“Hi! Y/n?” A woman at the door greeted her with a smile as she descended the steps.

“Hi! Yes, I’m Y/n,” she waved and held her hand out to shake but the woman, who smelled like vanilla and amber pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m Chanel. We hope you feel comfortable here. Harry’s just inside,” she gestured toward the house and led Y/n up the steps and into the impressive entry with a double staircase, high ceilings, and marble floors. The place was immaculate.

Chanel took Y/n’s hand and guided her to another room where there were a few women, scantily clad and laughing, and then the man, who she was positive was Harry.

His light green eyes, wide grin, and dimples were gorgeous.

“Y/n,” he put his arms out toward her, “It’s so nice to finally see you in person,” he hugged her and kissed her cheek sweetly.

She was already feeling all the love from everyone. The other women that were in the room all hugged her and greeted her as well.

Harry showed her a few areas of the house as he gave her a rundown of how things worked.

“We all love and respect one another. No one in this house is off limits to anyone unless someone is having a day where they need to be alone but that’s rare. Everyone here likes sex a lot. We do things in the open here. Sometimes in private. I like to watch the girls playing and they enjoy watching me as well. We don’t like a lot of secrets here when it comes to sex.”

Y/n nodded and tried to imagine what that might look like. It sounded like a hot fantasy that only happened in porn.

“For example, this morning I had three of my lovers in bed with me and I woke up horny, as I always do and the one closest to me got my cock while the other two got off watching us. The other girls were in their rooms doing nasty things to one another as well,” he looked at her and grinned, “That’s kind of how things go here. Sex after dinner, before dinner. Right on the kitchen counter as someone is making dinner next to us.”

“Wow. That sounds incredible. Like a dream.” She said as she looked at his huge kitchen and two girls followed behind them.

“Would you like to see it in action? Right now Alana and Sasha are fucking in the TV room. I was just watching them before you arrived and I’m sure they’re still going at it. Up to you.”

She nodded. Everything about this situation felt like something she could quickly settle into. She’d love to have her days filled with sex and watching others and exploring.

Harry put his arm over Y/n’s shoulder and nudged her closer, “Don’t be shy,” he whispered as he walked them toward the TV room. Y/n could hear the girls moaning and the soft slick sounds that came with sex.

“Alana has the black hair, and Sasha is the one with the collar,” Harry explained.

Alana was on all fours as was Sasha who was eating her out from behind. Sasha was also using a dildo on herself as she steadied her body with one hand, face stuffed into Alana’s pussy and working the dildo in and out.

Alana turned to see Y/n and Harry and her lips were parted, “H… Hi…” she panted and then swayed her hips over Sasha’s face.

Y/n brought her hand up to wave, “Hi.”

She’d never been in a situation quite like this. She’d participated in sex parties, orgies, and the like, but to be part of a household where everyone has access to one another all day was a new concept.

“No one that lives here works. That’s another rule. No working. We all need to have access at all times, unless, like I said someone needs some space or a day alone. But really, this just means I don’t want anyone under my care to worry about money or stress about a job. I take care of everything.”

She looked from Harry back to the girls who were enjoying themselves in front of everyone. It was making her horny. Well, she was always horny, but seeing soft curves and breasts, and hearing their gasps and groans of ecstasy was making her panties wet.

She both loathed and loved her condition. Loathed it when she wasn’t in a spot to take care of herself. Loved it when she was.

“So it’s you and 9 women here right now?”

Harry nodded and put his hand on the back of her neck, gently squeezing, “That’s right. I’m open to as many as fit into our lifestyle here. I have sex with each girl every day. Sometimes all of us participate together. Some days I want to have sex with one of them a few times. Depends on the day.”

Y/n looked up at the man. His jawline was sharp. She was already hot and feeling achy and he was so attractive and looked so yummy to her. In fact, everyone she’d seen so far looked quite appealing. She’d be happy if Chanel who was just to her right had her way with her.

“No one ever gets jealous?” Y/n inquired.

Harry shook his head, “No. if jealousy does arise, this may not be the right situation. I have had some partners in the past who were invited but wound up not being able to handle it. And that’s okay. They didn’t know that they’d feel so jealous so we parted ways.”

She nodded and licked her lips as she set her gaze on the wet dildo that was being moved in and out of Sasha’s pussy.

“How does this all make you feel right now?” Harry asked.

“It sounds amazing. And I’m really turned on seeing this.”

“Yeah? Me too. Your survey said you were a nymphomaniac so you must be quite ready for a good fucking about right now. It’s up to you if you like this setup but I would like to bring you to my room and give you a preview of what you could expect.”

Y/n looked up at Harry and she could see his pupils were blown out and his lips were dark pink. She swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. That would be fun. I don’t mind if anyone watches, though. I’m very open.”

Harry licked his lips and drew his gaze over her face, “Then I’ll leave my bedroom door open.”

She followed Harry up the stairs and to his large bedroom. But as they passed the other rooms, she noted all the bedrooms were large. Huge in fact. Lots of toys and contraptions set up.

But Harry’s room was tame compared to some of the other spaces. His bed was massive and he did have cuff bars at the head of his bed as well as a bar that hung from his ceiling.

She felt someone behind her touch her shoulder, “Can I help you out of your dress?”

She turned to the woman and smiled as she nodded, “Sure. What’s your name?”

The woman took the bottom hem of Y/n’s dress and began to lift it, “Carrie. You’re beautiful, Y/n. Thank you for letting me see you.”

When her dress was off, Carrie lay it over a chair so it didn’t wrinkle and Harry stood before Y/n with his shirt off and all his tattoos that she had no idea existed were on display. Dark scatterings of tattoos in different styles. His left arm littered in them.

But even more impressive was his body. Well-toned, muscular, lean. Harry moved his hands behind her back and unhooked her bra like an expert as he kissed her neck. She could feel puffs of his warm breath against her skin as she closed her eyes and stretched her neck out for his access as she placed her hands on his shoulders. He lowered his mouth to her clavicle and then to her breasts when she felt his fingers in the band of her panties to pull them off her legs. He pressed his mouth to her tummy and once her panties were on the floor around her ankles he pulled her to his bed, “How do you want it, Y/n? What do you like?” He began to take his pants off as he asked her and she scooted into the bed.

“God I like so many things. Let me suck you off first. It’s gonna make me drip and then I want to be fucked.”

Harry watched her as he dragged his underwear down and his heavy cock drooped. He was thick and fully hard but unlike the last man she slept with, his cock couldn’t stand upward because it was too large. She moaned and reached for him as he climbed up to her on the bed.

“Whatever you want. Is it okay if Carrie eats you out while you suck me off? I can tell she wants to play too,” he looked behind himself at Carrie and then back to Y/n.

“Oh… yes! Do you want to, Carrie?” Y/n asked.

“It would be my pleasure.” Carried sauntered toward the bed and got onto her knees to wait until Harry and Y/n were in position.

Harry lay on his back and spread his legs as he ran his palm over himself, pumping down to the base of his pretty cock. His thighs looked strong and healthy. Harry’s abs were begging for her tongue so she climbed between his legs and did just that. She licked upward over his abs and kissed as she went, “God your body is something I can worship,” Y/n moaned as she grasped onto his thighs and worked her tongue over his skin and his tattoos.

Harry softly moaned and then put his hand into Y/n’s hair, pulling her away from his abs, “I’ll give you five minutes on my cock. And then I’m gonna fuck you, okay darling?”

It was bliss. Y/n had participated in group sex but this felt so right. She tasted Harry’s prick, licking down to his balls, and then licked and kissed his scrotum. She stuffed her mouth with his sac and moaned around him. Harry gasped. Carrie had laid on her back with her face up with Y/n’s pussy pressed into her face as Y/n sucked and licked Harry up.

Carrie’s soft warm tongue and her lips felt like relief on her aching, wet pussy. But once Y/n finally put Harry’s cock into her mouth and got into a good pace Carrie had to get onto her knees and lean into Y/n from behind to keep licking at her cunt.

Y/n wretched the tiniest bit as she lowered over him as far as she could and sucked as she lifted upward, only to repeat her wet tongue and warm mouth encasing his cock and then gagging as his tip reached to the back of her throat and she pushed even further to make his cock reach deeper.

“That’s five minutes,” Harry panted his words as pulled her up and drew her in for a wet kiss.

Carrie moved herself to the foot of the bed and took her panties off before she began running her fingers over her pussy.

He picked up the condom that was conveniently on his bedside table, “We’ll use condoms until everything is all worked out,” he began to put the condom over his cock, “We want to make sure you’re happy here and this is what you really want and then you’ll get tested for STDs and we’ll make sure you're one a good birth control. Once that’s out of the way,” he tossed the wrapper onto the nightstand, “Everything will be raw. I like coming inside my girls and they like to walk around dripping of it or have it eaten out of them.” His grin was a little cocky but Y/n could see why. He was living the dream. They all were.

She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her as she laid on her back and Harry fit himself between her thighs. He gently pressed his thumb through her slick crease and then put it into his mouth to taste before running his fingers over her clit.

Y/n moaned and bucked her hips upward as she kept her eyes on his pretty green ones.

“Want my cock, Y/n?” He painted his condom-covered prick through her folds and up over her clit.

“I need it. Need to come so bad.”

Harry looked down to her pussy and grasped his base as he lined himself up with her. Y/n couldn’t see Carrie but she could hear how wet she was and her small moans as Harry finally slid inside.

“Fuck… I think you belong here, Y/n,” he gritted as he backed out and then pushed back into her, his tip reaching into her guts deliciously.

She nodded in response as Harry’s intense eyes were locked on hers, “Yes…”

Harry worked himself into Y/n, getting deeper on each plunge until his hips were pasted to hers and he was fucking into her, pushing her up gently with each rock of his hips.

Harry was breathing hard as he paused and took Y/n’s thighs and pressed them into her chest so he could fuck down into her with deep, painful strokes. The pain was welcome. Y/n loved getting her guts rearranged by a man with a big cock just as much as she loved the soft and delicate lips and fingers of a woman. All forms were welcome. But she did prefer her men with big cocks. Women were better lovers in general and she would never be able to choose if she liked men or women better. All she knew was that Harry’s cock was exactly what she wanted in a man.

She squeaked when he began to rail into her, her pussy walls sucking him in and squeezing as he drove into her.

Harry’s rhythmic breath with each of his thrusts was sexy. She loved to hear a man enjoying her body.

“Oh, Y/n…” he grunted, “I’m not letting you leave. I’m gonna need this pussy every day.”

She moaned loudly and all she could get out was a gurgled, “Yes!” It was hard to get much breath into her lungs with the way Harry had her folded in half and the pace at which he was pounding into her.

“Yeah? You wanna be my new girl? Have lots of girlfriends and one boyfriend, Y/n? Get cock and pussy every day?”

Tears fell from her face as she blubbered and moaned a resounding, “Yes!”

Carrie was gasping her words as she fingered herself to the view, “Oh god! That looks like it feels so good!”

“It does feel good. You like watching her pussy get fucked, baby?” Harry spoke to Carrie as he released Y/n’s legs so her feet fell flat to the mattress.

“Yes! Oh, Daddy! I want to watch it every day! Please!”

With the change of position and Y/n’s knees bent, her feet on the mattress Harry’s groin rubbed into her clit and she felt that spark of the finale approaching. She’d been so on edge since she arrived at Harry’s home and then seeing Sasha and Alana fucking in front of her and now with Carrie watching and Harry’s cock punching into her tummy in hard and long strokes she was simply in outer space. Her body was receiving his big cock and her clit was stimulated like she needed.

“Feel it, Y/n?” Harry ground into her with his eyes on hers, rolling his hips sensually and making sure he was smushing into her button. He knew what he was doing. He knew his cock felt good inside of her and that once he added the stimulation of her clit she’d be coming soon. All his girls loved his cock. Loved their clit touched while he was inside of them. And he could see it was no different with Y/n.

“Harry, yes! I feel you. It feels so good. I’m gonna come…”

Harry groaned loudly and slammed his hips into hers. He massaged her tits as he kept himself still for a moment to catch his breath, “You wanna come, Y/n? Like how it feels?”

“I do! Harry, please…” she begged as she bucked her hips up into him to get him to start moving. She was so close.

Harry grunted a laugh and circled his hips, digging his cock into her cervix and she hissed at the ache, “You don’t even have to beg here unless that’s what you like. I’m always gonna make you come, Y/n.” He was breathing hard as he spoke.

“I want it every day. I love this. I want her next,” Y/n lifted her neck and made eye contact with Carrie who was softly cooing. She’d already come but she was still rubbing her pussy and moving her hips.

“Then you can have it. And Carrie too if you want.”

Y/n moaned and nodded as Harry began to move again. Inching back and then pressing himself into the hilt. Over and over again until it was skin smacking wetly and loud choked moans and gasps.

Her tits bounced back and forth as Harry ravaged her pussy, fucking into her perfectly until she clamped down on his cock and began to pulse around him, pussy fluttering and gushing as she cried out.

“That’s it, Y/n… Come for me… just like that… good girl…” he watched her face screw up as she orgasmed and he held himself back. He could have released into his condom but he wanted Y/n to feel everything the way it was meant to be felt. The inner walls of her spasming cunt, pressing and pulling Harry’s cock in as she rammed into her turned her into a melted puddle.

When she opened her eyes she saw Harry watching her with a grin, “Want to eat my come out of Carrie’s pussy?”

Y/n moaned and nodded, “Fuck yes.”

She sat up as Harry pulled himself out and removed his condom. He dragged Carrie toward him by her ankles and the girl laughed with a squeal. Y/n loved this. She was feeling so good after her orgasm and now she was about to get to play with another person and eat come from the pretty girl’s pussy. It was a dream.

She watched as Harry flipped her over to her tummy and swatted her bottom, Carrie laughed and angled her hips so Harry could enter her.

He leaned over Carrie and spoke lowly, but still loud enough for Y/n to hear, “Such a good fucking little girl for me, baby. Want Daddy’s cock and his come?”

She whined and lifted her hips again, hoping he’d just enter her, “Yes, Daddy!”

Y/n wondered if all the girls called him daddy or if it was different depending on the girl.

With Carrie’s tummy pressed into the mattress, Harry spread her cheeks and plunged into her in one go as she grunted and moaned.

Y/n climbed up closer to watch Carrie’s pussy spread open for Harry’s bare cock and she was immediately horny again.

He rocked into her and he moaned softly until his thrusts grew sloppy, his hips were jerking and he began to whimper, “Oh shit… Fucking gonna come, baby,” he panted, “Y/n… I’m coming inside of her, watch,” he whined as he gripped Carrie's hips and Y/n could see Harry’s balls tighten and throb as he released into Carrie.

Carrie moaned into the blankets below her face as Harry coughed out a loud groan. It was so hot. She loved having such a good view of two people having sex.

When Harry pulled out with his chest still heaving he grabbed Y/n’s hand, “She’s all yours now, Y/n. Filled with my come.”

Y/n smoothed her hands over Carrie’s soft bottom and lifted her hips up before she tongued up and down Carrie’s entrance, first tasting Carrie’s slick arousal and then as Harry’s come began to drip out of her opening she caught it and swallowed it down little by little as he leaked from her.

“Get on your back so I can really eat you out,” Y/n directed Carrie.

Harry sat up against his headboard and watched the girls. Carrie spread her legs as she was on her back and Y/n stuffed her fingers inside, watching Harry’s come coat her fingers as she pushed it back inside of Carrie slowly.

When she put her mouth back onto Carrie she slurped his come from her. There was a lot. But Carrie was loving the attention as she rolled her hips and moaned.

Y/n used her tongue to clean up as much of Carrie as she could but Carrie was so wet and slippery it was quite the task. A yummy task, but still.

When she felt Harry’s hands on her hips she turned to look at him.

“I’m gonna eat you out while you eat her out and then I’m gonna fuck you again because I’m ready for round two already. Okay?”

Y/n grinned widely. She had hit the jackpot with this setup unless it was just a dream. But she would revel in it as long as she could. She put her lips around Carrie’s clit as she felt Harry’s fingers inside of her cunt before he lapped her up with his tongue.

She was sure she would enjoy living this way with Harry and all the girls. She couldn’t wait to try each one of them out. But for now, Carrie tasted diving and Harry’s tongue was magic and she needed to put in her two week’s notice at the bakery.

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this and would like more I'd be so grateful to you for joining my Patreon!! xoxo

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry

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piratesfromspace · 4 months

Text

Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀

EDIT: we have a PART 2!!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat

MASTERLIST // PART 2

It had been Laswell’s idea.

The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.

Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training.

It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face.

“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”

“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.

Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”

Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.

❄️

The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms.

You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.

❄️

The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least.

“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.

“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way.

You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.

“Sorry, last one.”

Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.

“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation.

When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago.

You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.

❄️

The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world.

The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good.

You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.

❄️

You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.

Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices.

“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”

You groan in response, but you go back in position.

“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.”

Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.

“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.

“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.”

He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.

The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks.

The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.

❄️

Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.

They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold.

The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.

You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you.

They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you.

It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars.

He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks.

“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm.

Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.

“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

PART 2

#cod fanfiction #captain price x reader #polyamory #poly tf141 #poly 141 #price x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x soap #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty fanfic #winter fics

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purpleyoonn · 2 months

Text

haze || petrichor

A PETRICHOR SHORT

In which you go through the haze of your inevitable first heat with your mates. Pleasure and passion fight to take your senses as you let your mates take care of you and your desires.

Takes place after chapter 19 of Petrichor.

events not in order. just a collection of hazy memories from her heat.

tags: pure smut with a lil fluff, feral jin, cum smearing, cunnilingus, knotting, some mmf action, polyamorous relations, sub jungkook, dom yoongi, pussy eating, breast play, overstimulation, mc engulfed in pleasure, mentions of cock sucking,

completely unedited/unbeta'd

enjoy :)

masterlist | petrichor 19 | navigation

----------------------------------------------

You're not sure where you begin and where your mates end. You've never felt this type of heat before and it only seems to become quenched when you're with them, connected by the forces of the mate bond you'd only just fulfilled.

"Baby..." You vaguely hear Jimin's breathy moans as he takes you from behind, his lips creating constellations on your back as he tries to bring you both to your ends. Body alight with sensations even your naughtiest dreams couldn't conjure, you can't help but clench with every thrust, wanting your alpha to knot you. Wanted his knot.

His hand slipped from your waist, over your hips, giving a quick squeeze to them before moving under to your clit, needing you to come together.

"Alpha" You whine out, hands shaking as you try to hold yourself up on the bed, fingers curling into the fabric of the blankets below, smelling the alluring combination of your mates as you try to take deep breaths.

"That's it my loves," Hobi encourages from your side, his hand now rubbing circles into your side as he helps steady you so you don't fall. "Let your Alpha take care of you, 'mega." His hand moved from your side to your breast, groping as he moved to lay under neath you, his mouth taking your other breast in as he lapped at your nipple.

You let out a small whimper at the feeling of Jimin's knot swelling, the pleasure making your toes curl and back arch towards your mate. You began to push back, needing to feel your mate closer to you, only for him to hold your hips tight, squeezing again as he pushed your head down into the pillow, taking control.

Hobi only moaned at being squished underneath you, your breast still in his mouth as he continued to assault your chest.

Jimin's alpha took over as he sped up the pace, his fingers working to bring you to release just as his knot locked into place.

-*-*-

"Please, please, please" You chant through your haze, body jolting with each and every thrust of your mate. You gripped your arms around his neck, holding him close in an attempt to not pass out from pleasure. Despite your lucidity, you were completely unable to move. Not that you wanted to.

"That's right, love. Make her come once more. Make our omega come and I'll let you come in her." Yoongi's voice rasped in his own ears, his body laying against Jungkook's as he pounds into his tight hole. His eyes locked with your own as he moved.

Jungkook moved his head, placing a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest, his lips moving until they were wrapped around your nipple, sucking.

"Alpha" you moaned, breathless from the assault on your senses. You couldn't look away from your alpha, not even as his eyes closed and his pace slowed, harsher thrusts replacing the quick, feeling his knot begin to swell.

You can't tell whose hand touches where, but soon enough your lost in light as your orgasm hits, the feeling of being filled your only anchor to earth.

Despite both of their knots locked in, Jungkook doesn't stop moving, tugging on Yoongi's knot and making little gasps leave your lips as he continues to pump into you, small thrusts to help keep his cum inside you. To feel you clench around him. To make those sweet tears of overstimulation fall down your beautiful cheeks.

"That's enough, pup." Yoongi pulls at his hair, causing a hiss to leave his lips.

-*-*-

His lips are suckling at your scent gland, pink haze glazed over your eyes as you try to hold onto your sanity. You could feel his knot tugging at you as you attempt to wrap your legs around his waist.

"Ah ah, little one." Jin pulls back, eyes dark as he looks down at you, his marks littered around your neck and chest, a way to make sure everyone knew you were his. He could practically feel his knot swelling again, but he fought the urge to pump into you again.

His thumb brushing against your cheek, a tear following his trail as he moves again, this time, feeling the swelling of his knot going down finally.

"Jinnie.." You whimper, feeling him pull out and the emptiness form before settles in. You liked feeling full, feeling connected with them. It settles something deep within you and you didn't quite know how to feel.

"Now, little one, let alpha finish what he was doing." He tutted, lips smacking as he sent another dark look your way. You knew by now his alpha was present and you could already feel yourself getting hot again.

Jin and his alpha brought out something in you, something primal that loved to be marked and claimed and devoured until only the feeling of him was left.

You tensed up and bucked away from the feeling of his finger at your core, too sensitive to continue despite your thoughts wanting otherwise. A small slap to your inner thigh had you freezing, not knowing what your alpha was doing.

"Just relax baby, gonna scent you." His words settled into your skin, your eyes closing as you tried to relax, listening to the sound of him humming as he continued to press his fingers into your core.

The next thing you knew he was rubbing something onto your stomach and sides, his fingers warm as he massaged whatever it was into your skin.

You open your eyes, curious, only to see him going back to your core and scooping out the mixture of your cum and bringing it to your chest, his hands cupping your breasts and rubbing his cum in circles.

"That's it, little mate, gonna smell like me for weeks."

-*-*-

Taehyung felt ravenous, like nothing was going to sate the hunger he had inside of him but you. His hands wrapped around your hips and laid against your stomach, holding you to the bed as he licked up your slit, gathering up your slick.

He loved the taste of you, sweet honey and almond.

Hu hummed in approval only making you squirm even more against his tongue. Taehyung knew that you loved the feeling of them humming, loved the vibrations it sent up your core.

Another wave of slick had him lapping at your cunt, moving in as far as he could until your taste was all his brain could comprehend. He wanted the taste of you to consume him, mind, body, and soul.

You tugged at his scalp, fingers knotted in his curls as he brings you to another orgasm, nose nudging at your clit only adding to the stimulation.

He knew his face was a mess as he tried to drink from you, not wanting a single bit of your release to go to waste. Not when it could go to him.

He could hear you cry out, pleasure consuming you again as he only prolonged your orgasm, dragging it out to he could continue his feast.

-*-*-

"You need to eat more, baby. Please." You pouted as the piece of fruit touched your lips. You didn't want any more food.

"Omega." Namjoon scolded you as you ignored Jungkook, a jolt going through your body as you felt him twitch inside you.

"Omega, if you eat a couple more pieces, " Jimin looked directly at Jungkook, "I bet Jungkook will let you have him as Alpha gives you another knot." Jimin had a shit eating grin on his lips, wanting to fulfill his own selfish desire of seeing your lips around Jungkook's cock.

It seemed you wanted it too, your eyes glazing a little as you looked down to his hard cock, only inches away from your face as he tried to feed you.

"But you need to eat, 'mega." Jimin coos, taking the fruit from Jungkook's hand and moving it back to your mouth, watching as you open your lips and take the fruit between your teeth.

The sight of you eating the piece of fruit had a new meaning, Jungkook and Namjoon both becoming even more aroused knowing you wanted them again.

Jungkook couldn't wait to know how your lips felt around his cock.

#purpleyoonn #petrichor #bts soulmate #bts au #bts fanfic #bts mate #bts werewolf #bts werewolf au #bts omegaverse #poly bts x reader #bts x plus size reader #bts x reader #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts poly #bts polyamory #bts ceo #bts ceo au

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katnissegf · 5 months

Text

Dating Katniss & Peeta headcanons

pairing: poly!everlark x fem!reader (katniss everdeen x reader x peeta mellark)

warnings: polyamorous relationship, use of pet names, a lot of fluff, suggestive themes, TW: GALE (🤢), english is not my first language so there might be spelling mistakes.

notes: this is my first time writing in YEARS. but i’m so into the hunger games fandom right now so here’s this. hope you enjoy <3

after the games, neither of them returned to being the same.

when they returned home, they became so much more overprotective than they were in the past with you.

want to visit your family? peeta will be there with you. need to go somewhere? katniss will go with you.

to be honest you can’t blame them, you know they are like this now because of how scared they are of losing you. and you adore them for that.

but also, overprotective in the jealousy way.

peeta has never been a jealous boyfriend. if he sees you or katniss flirting with someone else, his heart would shatter into pieces, feeling not enough for either of you, but he would never say a word about it.

meanwhile, katniss.. well, she’s not afraid to make it clear what belongs to her.

there was this time when gale came up to talk to you on the reaping day, he said he was 'concerned about you.'

your girlfriend noticed his intentions to flirt with you and quickly got closer to steal your attention, placing a hand on your waist and giving gale a death stare.

he never tried to flirt with you in her presence again.

peeta is literally obsessed with both, you and katniss. he would die for the two of you.

in the other hand, katniss would kill for the two of you. you guys are her whole universe.

in the afternoon, you usually have baking lessons with peeta as your teacher.

if you end up burning something, he says, “don’t worry darling, next time will turn out better.”

sometimes, when you join her on the hunt, katniss tries to teach you how to use the bow and arrow as well.

“i don’t know, i think i prefer watching you do it than doing it myself.”

“c’mon baby, it’s going to be fun. for me?”

of course, you agree just to see her happy.

since they returned home, it’s normal for both of them to have nightmares every night.

to katniss, it helps when you run your fingers through her hair while she rests her head on your chest. peeta always takes her hand to let her know he’s there, even when he’s scared too.

when peeta is the one that wakes up from a terrible dream, he immediately becomes the little spoon and lets both of his girlfriends hug him. this helps him calm down and quickly go back to sleep.

every morning, you braid katniss’s hair while peeta braids yours. <3

you and peeta take care of the garden, and always suprise katniss with flowers.

okay but.. heavy make out sessions.

peeta holds you tight onto his lap and kisses your neck while katniss kisses your mouth like her life depends on it.

they’re always so sweet with you and your body, because it’s probably their favorite thing on the world.

both of them always ask for consent before touching or even kissing you, they respect you so much.

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hollyhomburg · 3 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.66)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.

W/c: 8.3k

A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

(Four years prior, Hoseok)

Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.

It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.

This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.

The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.

Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.

What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-

After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.

He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.

He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him

It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.

"I don't want you to get sick pup."

"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."

"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"

But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.

His ex-pack omega.

It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.

He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.

Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).

Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.

He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.

Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.

(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).

Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.

“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”

The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.

The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.

He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.

This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.

He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.

Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.

Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.

The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.

Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.

Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).

Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.

“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”

“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”

“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”

"Wait, please- I love you."

"We know. We're sorry."

Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.

He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.

Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.

Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.

Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.

Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.

Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.

The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.

He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."

That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.

(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")

Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.

Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.

When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.

(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.

They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.

The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.

“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."

Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.

~-~

(Now, You)

You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.

But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.

You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.

The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.

The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.

Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.

There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.

This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.

You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.

Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.

Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.

Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.

It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.

Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;

How dare she.

How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).

How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.

There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.

The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.

Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.

The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.

The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.

The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.

A single inch.

His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.

He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.

When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.

(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)

By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”

You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.

The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).

The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-

and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.

You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.

Why didn't he shoot?

The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.

One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.

Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.

"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"

You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.

“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”

He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.

You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.

The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.

There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.

A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.

There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.

Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?

Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.

If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.

Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”

You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.

When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.

Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards

But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.

The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.

Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.

And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.

Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.

“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”

The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.

Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.

They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.

Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.

Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.

He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.

Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.

Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.

“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”

The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.

The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.

“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”

Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.

But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.

His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."

You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”

He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”

Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.

“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”

“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.

“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."

The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.

You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-

“Please- please don’t kill them."

He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”

He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.

“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.

You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.

Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.

“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.

“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”

You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.

You won't let any of this happen.

The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.

If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.

you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.

“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”

You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-

You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.

“Pup-”

You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.

Only-

Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.

You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.

“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”

Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.

“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”

The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.

But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”

Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.

Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.

“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”

"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"

Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.

Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.

No.

Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.

I love you. Sorry.

The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.

Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.

If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.

Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.

“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.

“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”

“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”

Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”

It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.

But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.

Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.

She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.

I’m sorry, I love you.

“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.

When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.

She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.

And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.

Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.

The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.

The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"

Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.

“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.

“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.

You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.

And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-

Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.

By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.

They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.

And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.

“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”

Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.

Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-

At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.

Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.

Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.

The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.

Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.

Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.

And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.

There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.

The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.

Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.

His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.

Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.

You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.

There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.

“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”

There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.

“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.

Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.

It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.

It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.

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Notes:

if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?

One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.

Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(

hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.

i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.

i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.

I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.

I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.

This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.

i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.

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