#wildfire poly

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

Brainstorming ship dynamics with the potential wildfire poly 😭

Maddock x MC x The Hunger

Mc - Maddock - The hunger

Maddock - Mc - The Hunger

Mc - Maddock - The hunger

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: One

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Minor gore

ANYTHING IN ITALICS IS A FLASHBACK

Masterlist

It only started as a cold. Then it spread to a viral infection, consuming people faster than poison. It didn’t take long for the world to stop, for terror to appear, spreading like a wildfire, destroying cities as quickly as they appeared.

It was a vastly asked question growing up, “Do you think you would survive the apocalypse?” and to those who answered yes, where are you now? For you, surviving came easy. You remember it, the scene playing in your head like clockwork.

“Vienna, we have to go!” You spat, your voice scratching against your parched throat as you watched the dead-alive tear at the walls, staggering limbs chasing after the scent of beating veins.

“I can’t run any faster,” Vienna spat, sheer fire running through her exhausted body as she stumbled upon the concrete road. You trusted her. You were going to get through it together. You were all each other had now.

You didn’t stop, only grabbing her hand as your worn shoes skidded against the floor, the smell of rubber burning your nose. “We need to get over that fence!” You yelled, your eyes blurred from exhaustion as you tugged the girl next to you, your sweat dancing along your palms.

You stumbled, heavy feet clamping into the chain as you attempted to pull yourself up. The taste of metallic engorged your mouth as you bit harshly on your tongue, gripping onto Vienna’s hand in an effort to pull her up.

“You need to hurry!” Your voice yelped out, dragging the girl as if she was a rag-doll, your efforts rushed as you attempted to pull her up. It felt like a movie, the sound of gargling flesh, mangled between broken teeth and rotting skin acting as a soundtrack, yet it wasn’t fiction. This was real, this was reality.

Your leg was now hunched over, your body positioned between the fence as you focused on saving your friend. The clamminess between both of your hands, causing a friction as she continued to slip. “I-I can’t, Y/N, pull me harder,” Vienna exasperated, her voice high pitched as she watched behind her, rotten claws scratching the air.

Vienna’s feet dug into the chain as she wobbled, slick pools of blood flooding at her palms as she sliced the tender skin upon the metal. A grunt left her mouth as she clasped onto your hand, the dead swarming closer, desperate and starved.

Almost comically, Vienna whispered out an “I’m sorry” before tugging. You landed with a whack, your knees hitting the ground as you winced, your jeans skidding across the ground, fresh marks of friction, followed by the prickle of blood appeared quickly upon your palms and knees as your eyes darted to the girl infront of you, clambering up the fence.

Your breathing stilled, the sound of static filling your ears, muting everything around you as your limbs froze up. This was it, you thought, the stench of death approaching you as you attempted to stand, hands gripping out to reach for any weapon as the sound of struggle behind you deafened you.

You covered your ears, tucking your face into your knees as you sat up, flashes of everything you were running through your brain like a compilation. Instead, you were met with the trample of feet and bodies toppling over you. Your eyes adjusted, looking at the huddle of zombies walking near you, not paying you a care as they focused on the flesh of your once friend.

Your body stirred for a second, your flesh searing in the sun as you crawled up, your legs weak. You almost wish you had died then, the sound of Vienna’s scream even after her betrayal paralysing you. You didn’t stick around, your hand securing your satchel as you limped off, the sound of squelching and gnarling being the only thing you left behind.

You kept a calendar on a torn, leather notebook, marking each day carefully since the first. It had been 296 days. 296 days of being alone. 296 of being invisible. 296 days of nothing. You survived in an old farm house, tucked away in a rural forest in God know’s where. It was funny, you expected to see someone, anyone, but you never did.

Maybe it was easier that way, you were a given a chance with someone, and they left you to die. It was easy to make a simple life for yourself out here and you often wondered why the previous owner’s had left.

Your food was supplied by the garden, a plethora of fruits and vegetables adorned across the land as you tended to them. There were animals too. Cows, chickens, horses. You grew to care for them, speaking to them often as if they would reply. It was worth a shot, you thought, and it made you less lonely.

You survived by fending for yourself, learning how to shoot an arrow as you hunted the occasional deer in the forest, tenderising the meat on their gas stove. There was a small town nearby, practically untouched that you had raided, using the spare pickup truck that dusted away in the garage.

You had never seen anyone, but if you did, whoever lived here didn’t shy away from guns, the shotgun he left behind and the small pistols he littered around the house, along with your bow and arrow, were your forms of protection. Everything was simple. Everything was as perfect as it could be, you were fine.

It was a regular occurrence for you to ride now, your ass plush against the saddle as you trotted around the acreage. It was rare to see zombies along here, the silence speaking for itself, and if they did, they didn’t pay any attention to you walking over to them and chopping their head off with an axe. You found it comforting as you listened to the whistle of the horse’s nostrils, breathing out slowly.

As it grew dark, you locked the barn, securing it tightly before heading inside. You were thankful for fire as you chucked a log of wood you had chopped into the burner, lighting it with a match. You locked the door, front and back, as you shut the blinds, a simple routine you did to soothe yourself. Your feet, covered by fluffy socks you had found in a cupboard, padded against the floor as you headed up the creaky stairs.

Your body conformed to the blankets covering you, hushing you to sleep as your body gratefully accepted. The only thing that would wake you would be the sun, and the haunting memory of Vienna.

The teapot whistled, steam singing out of the nozzle as you carried it to the bath. Though it was a luxury to shower in hot water, it had rained these past couple of weeks, allowing for the rain tank to fill up and be put to good use.

Your body scorched against the porcelain tub as you stepped in, the muscles in your thighs kneading themselves into tight balls before the tension released. You used one of the several soap bars you had stored, scrubbing against your tender skin as you washed yourself. Your fingers trailed against the gash of a scar on your forearm, a reminder of the fence, a reminder of her.

You finished up, your body snug around a towel you had recently washed using an off-the-grid washing machine they kept stored in the basement. Thank God people lived like that before civilisation turned to shit, either that, or Amish. You weren’t complaining about either.

You changed into a pair of shorts, the weather slowly warming up as the winter passed, the celebration of spring approaching on your calendar. You fed yourself with an apple before approaching the barn, the key clicking against the door as you greeted the animals, feeding them with a mix of leftover animal food and vegetables. Sure, it wasn’t the best diet, but it fed them well enough to provide milk and eggs.

Your feet padded against the hay-covered floor, arms stroking the horse you were most fond of (that you called Nancy) before letting her out, straddling her waist with a saddle as you dragged her to the fenced paddock. You were quick to grab Cecil, the male of the pair. While he was now fond of you, your stomach had still not fully forgiven him for the brutal kick he gave you when you first met.

Once your legs grew, sore, staggering to continue directing the horse, you huddled inside, as you began to sew, using an old dress you found to create a shirt and a skirt. You hummed softly to yourself, the silence of the house speaking back to you, the distance sound of a chugging engine humming in as you stilled.

Like a statue, you froze before dropping expletives, your body slinking over to the window as you looked outside. Is that.. a truck? The soft hum of the engine grew closer as you rushed to grab your shotgun, before rushing outside, hands flailing around as you waited for the car to turn around.

“This is private property!” You yelled, your voice stern, “You need to leave.” Your face was vastly covered by the large gun you held, doing your best to intimidate whoever it was that drove on the land.

You heard the sound of doors opening, before four different doors closed. You lowered your gun, eyes squinting as you froze. You almost felt like your eyes were betraying you as you took in the group before you.

A man wearing a bucket hat, raised his arms slowly, slinking towards you as you stepped back. “Listen, we ain’t- we ain’t trying to scare you,” he spoke, his voice authoritative, “we didn’t think anyone would be out here.”

“Well, I am,” you snapped, lowering the gun slightly to look at him, “So fuck off, you and whoever is behind you isn’t welcome here.”

A man, the tallest of the group, stepped forward. He was intimidating, a black balaclava with a skull face situated on top covered his identity, his frame bricked with muscle as his chest puffed forward, “Listen-“ he began before the man with the hat cut him off.

“We ain’t here for issues, sweetheart, simply need a place to stay. We were in the military and we would greatly appreciate it.”

You furrowed your brows as you raised your gun again, “If you were in the military, why the fuck are you still here? Shouldn���t they have shipped you off somewhere safe?”

“We were on a mission, stuck in a safe house in the middle of nowhere. We assumed we had lost connection when no one could contact us. Took us a while to realise what had happened,” he spoke, arms over his chest, “I promise we ain’t here to hurt ya, at most we just want to eat and if you don’t want us here tomorrow, we’ll get out of your hair, a’right?”

You stilled, taking in their clothes, lined with badges and gear you would only seen on someone in the military. You lowered your gun before turning on your heel back to the house. You waited for a second, not moving, before you heard the sound of multiple feet against gravel before they walked into the house, soft sighs leaving their lips.

“Do you have supplies?” You quipped, tone harsh as you looked at them, placing the gun down yet keeping it in arms reach. Sure you had never shot one, but how hard could it be?

Another man nodded and you could finally take a look at him. Does he have a Mohawk? You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh as you stared at him. “Got some bottled water in the boot, and some military meals we found at some shops along the way as well as some toiletries. It’s not a lot- but it’ll help,” he said, a thick Scottish accent causing you to scrunch your brows together in an attempt to understand him.

You nodded slowly, still not taking your eyes off of them before reaching into a cupboard and pulling out a labelled pot. The words stew stared back at you before you turned on the stove, letting it simmer. “The best I can feed you all with notice is left over deer stew. If you don’t want it, fend for yourself else where,” you snapped, rubbing between your eyebrows as you grabbed a spoon.

“That’s more than enough, thank you,” the hat man said, his arms resting on the table before he headed outside, to presumably grab the supplies in the boot.

“You been out here this whole time?” An unfamiliar voice spoke. You turned to him. He was handsome, with a boyish smile and soft features, his skin a complimenting shade of brown.

“Not the whole time, ended up here by mistake I suppose but I’m not complaining.”

“You survived this entire time by yourself?” The masked man gibed, looking you up and down as if you were useless. You shot him a nasty glare, your tone spiteful, “Yes, I have and now I have four dickwads at my door, begging to stay with me.”

The man silenced himself, eyes crinkling slightly as he turned around. “What’s your name?” The Scottish one asked, stepping closer to watch you heat the food as your body tensed.

“Y/N,” you said curtly.

“I’m Soap,” he announced, bouncing softly on his feet as he breathed in real food for a change.

“Hell kinda name is Soap?” You spat, staring at him.

“Military name, lass. Real names John,” he added, a small smile on his face before he turned to the others. “That’s Gaz, or Garrick,” he said, pointing to the handsome one, “and that’s Ghost, or-“

“Just Ghost,” the masked man grumbled. You rolled your eyes at his lack of manners, growing more frustrated by the second.

Soap strummed his fingers against the counter before clearing his throat. “The one outside is Price, names also John so it’s easier to just call us Price and Soap.”

The man you now knew as Price walked back in, hands clutching plastic containers filled with water bottles, items stacked on top as he placed them on the counter. “Thank you,” he said, gesturing towards the stew as you nodded.

“There are two spare bedrooms upstairs that you can rest in for the night, I’ll show you to them after we eat,” you say, grabbing a ladle and 5 China bowls.

As you sat down, you felt yourself relax slightly, trying to reassure yourself that if they wanted to hurt you, they would have done so already. Would others around the house be that bad? You shook your head, shaking the idea away.

They’re leaving first thing tomorrow.

[meadow-of-daisies-and-lavender]

Deity! 141 AU HCs

A/N: Just some ramblings about the 141 as deities in my poly AU

(18+ only)

Please comment and reblog!

Captain John Price

God of the East Woods, who is represented by winter. He is known for his leadership skills, analytical abilities, and good faith in his men.

As he is known for leadership skills, he is known as the god most worshiped by leaders who seek guidance in their ability to command others. He is also known for being the one sought out by outcasts who are looking for community. He’ll help you find your way, don’t you worry. You belong somewhere; we just have to find where.

Contrary to popular belief, John does not participate in assisting those who force their command over others. He believes in leading by example and earning the privilege of leadership.

 He is most closely associated with cold metal, with his altar decorated in winter wreaths, warm spices, and delicate metalwork.

Kyle Garrick

God of the North Woods, represented by Spring and water. He is courageous, knowledgeable in the social and environmental climate, and can foresee the cause and effects of many actions on the battlefield.

He is worshiped by those beginning new endeavors. As the youngest and newest god (which, how new can ancient beings really be?), myths range from his grand displays of courage to self-doubt. His stories paint imagery of humbleness and of an eager learner. To those seeking new starts, he is the perfect divine being to guide you to ask questions and be courageous in the midst of change.

Kyle, while known best for being the god of changes, is also the patron of mystics for his foreseeing abilities (and beauticians. He likes his skincare and pretty things). As the foreseeing one, he knows all the outcomes and can assist divination practitioners in seeking knowledge of the future.

Just because Kyle can help doesn’t mean he will. Many fortune-tellers have reported trickery and confusion trying to get answers from him. He likes his jokes and finds seeing humans guessing about the future amusing. Won’t they find out eventually?

 His altar is decorated with bowls of water representing spring rain and winds. As spring flowers bloom, they are also decorated upon his altar. The seed of each planted crop is represented on the altar as a blessing for a productive sowing season.

Johnny McTavish

The god of summer and of the southlands. McTavish is known for quick, fiery actions mirrored by a thunderstorm's quick turn or a wildfire's spark.

While he might have fiery emotions, the god is methodological in his delivery of quick actions. For this reason, if you need help finding passion, McTavish is the god for you. He is the patron of athletes and artisans who harness passion into practice and dedication to their craft.

The god of summer is precise! If you seek his help, be specific and think about what you need versus what you want. His help will come on his timing, but it’ll be exactly what you asked for. He finds it funny when mortals get upset by this. Usually, if he is going to be helpful to the mortals, it is on his terms and conditions, and you’ll know by a sudden splash of warmth on your skin or by the way events just so happen to align that it could only be the work of a god.

His altar is decorated with an always-lit candle. There are summer fruits in bowls and an icon of a thunderbolt descending from the sky to represent his passions.

The one they call “Ghost”

The god of the south and autumn season, mortals know the least about him. His mythology is sparse, usually featuring him as a supporting character in someone else’s myth (usually Johnny’s) with a dry sense of humor.

He is the god of the ground that is transitioning into hibernation, the god of intelligence, knowing when to take ground and when to give ground. He is the wisdom gained from remembering the bones and dust from whence you came. He is the patron of the elderly and wise, of those who understand the power of listening before speaking to the aged ideals that came before you.

Hidden by shadows of the unknown, protected by the bones of the dying, Ghost is not a death god, but he represents the bridge between mortals and the spiritual, helping those who are dying.

Ghost is not a god you call upon lightly. He will make you search your shadows, forcing you to gaze upon those fearsome things that hide in all mortal souls. If you ask to see the divine, he will show you it when you are ready. But it will not look pretty or neat or holy. It will be sacred in its raw, awesome terror, a power unleashed that mortals cannot grasp.

Ghost’s alter typically has a buck skull on it- the first buck killed of the season. Black and grey altar cloths are laid beneath the walnut bowls holding the nuts and acorns offered to the god.

Once upon a time, there were four gods. Together, they took turns helping the mortals. But what spirit connects them all, centering their efforts? Of what clear mission banner do they unite under? To whom is the focal point of life’s great mysteries? It had always been assumed human mortals as a collective to be that focal point. But the myths do not end with the death of the old. They continue and will grow with the next generations and generations next.

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Determined

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Sirius really wants to make you cum. Warnings: Smut (piv) Series Masterlist

You're lying in bed, a cocoon of plush pillows and silken sheets cradling your body. The warmth from the bedroom's hearth dances across your skin, the firelight flickering against your closed eyelids. It's intimate, this gathering of bodies, this mingling of breaths and heartbeats that pulses like a shared secret between the four of you.

"Relax," James murmurs into your ear, his voice barely audible over the crackling flames. "We've got you."

His hand trails down your side, fingers tracing over the curve of your hip before he shifts slightly, propping himself up on one elbow to watch as Remus lavishes attention on your breasts. His mouth is warm and insistent, suckling at a nipple until it pebbles beneath his tongue. His hands cup you gently, thumbs rubbing circles that send shivers of pleasure straight to your core.

But it's Sirius who commands your focus now, the intensity of his stare enough to make you forget about the other two for a moment. There's something in the way he moves, the slow, deliberate way he kneels between your parted legs, that tells you he's committed to bringing you over the edge again, chasing that elusive peak that seems just within reach.

The sight of him—the unruly dark hair falling into his eyes, the concentration etched on his handsome face—stirs something deep within you. You watch as he reaches for the bottle of lube on the bedside table, his fingers deft in their task. He coats you in the slick substance, his touch unhurried as he eases one, then two fingers inside you. His thumb finds your clit, stroking it with a rhythmic pressure that has you arching into his touch, your breath hitching in your throat.

Sirius's expression is concentrated, the look of a man who has been strategizing, planning for this very moment. His hand moves to his own body, casting a spell that causes a subtle vibration to hum through his fingertips. It’s something new he found, just for you, in hopes it might be the key to unlocking that elusive pleasure you've been chasing. He can feel the heat rising within him, the familiar tightening as his body responds to the sight of you. But he reigns himself in, waiting for the right moment.

"Are you alright, love?" His voice is gentle yet laced with an undercurrent of challenge, aware of how close you are to your breaking point. You nod, a hitch in your breath betraying the anticipation mingling with a sliver of apprehension. Orgasm has always been elusive for you—a tantalising promise that often slips through your fingers at the last second. The guys know this too, and they've never pushed you beyond what you're comfortable with.

But tonight, Sirius is determined.

His eyes lock with yours as he positions himself at your entrance, letting out a sigh that mirrors your own when he begins to push inside. The vibration spell he cast on himself takes effect immediately, sending a hum through your body that makes you gasp. It's unlike anything you've felt before, a current of energy that buzzes through you with each slow thrust.

Your fingers grip the sheets beside you, your body arching towards the sensation. It's electric, this pulsing heat that comes from him and spreads like wildfire through your veins. Each point of contact is amplified, every caress sending sparks along your skin. Your head falls back against the pillows, your breath coming in short pants as you surrender to the rhythm.

"Fuck," you breathe, and already, you can feel the tension coiling low in your belly, the promise of something more just beyond your reach.

"Look at her," James murmurs, his voice a low, seductive hum that vibrates against your skin. "She's beautiful like this, isn't she? Taking Sirius so well." His lips trace the curve of your neck, teeth nipping gently at your pulse point, a reminder of the promise he holds for later.

His hand is a warm presence on your hip, fingers pressing into your flesh with a firmness that roots you in place. It's a silent vow—James is here, watching and waiting, a predator poised to claim his prey when the time is right.

And then there's Remus, still worshipping your breasts with an almost religious fervour. His fingers toy with your nipples, pinching them lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. "Just look at you," he murmurs between wet kisses, his voice threaded with awe. "Perfect."

The room spins slightly as they continue their tandem assault, their mouths and hands leaving no part of you untouched or unclaimed. Sirius maintains a steady rhythm below, his cock stretching you deliciously with each thrust. But then his movements still, and he reaches for the small suction toy resting beside him. A flick of his wand warms it, ensuring it won't shock your sensitive skin.

"Ready, love?" Sirius asks gently, and you nod, not trusting your voice. He places it against your clit carefully, and the moment the suction starts, your body tightens around him with a gasp.

You can feel it building, an unstoppable wave crashing towards you as each pulse of the toy on your clit draws you closer to the edge. The sensation is intensified by the movement of Sirius inside you, the vibration spell adding another layer of pleasure that sends shockwaves through your body. You've never felt anything like this before, and you're not sure how much more you can take.

Remus tugs a little harder at your nipple, his other hand slightly twisting the opposite side. James's hand moves down your side, his touch light but firm, his voice a soft murmur in your ear telling you how beautiful you look, how much they love watching you come undone like this.

Your breath catches. You’re so close.

Sirius's every move is confident, calculated. His gaze never leaves yours as if daring you to look away, to surrender to the sensations he's orchestrating. His other hand anchors you to him, fingers unyielding against your thigh, and the vibrations intensify, stronger than anything you've felt before.

Your breath hitches; your heart stutters. You're on the precipice, teetering dangerously close to a climax that has eluded you for far too long. You've been here before, so many times, only to fall back into the abyss of dissatisfaction, but... something feels different this time.

A subtle shift in Sirius's position, a slight change in the rhythm, and suddenly, the pulsations from the toy align perfectly with his movements, creating an irresistible symphony of pleasure. The realisation hits you like a wave, powerful and all-consuming—you're not just close; you're there, poised at the edge of the cliff, ready to plunge into the unknown.

And then you do.

The release is quiet but all-consuming, a soft gasp escaping your lips as your body shakes with waves of pleasure. You feel Sirius' groan against you, his rhythm unsteady as he chases his own climax, drawn out by the sight and feel of you coming undone beneath him. His release follows soon after, his body tensed against yours as he surrenders to the pleasure.

James' whisper is barely audible over the pounding in your ears, his words lost in the haze of your post-climax bliss. Remus' kisses slow, his lips lingering on your chest as he waits for your breathing to steady.

Sirius pulls out slowly, and all at once they're surrounding you again, hands everywhere, lips pressing soft kisses into your skin.

"You did so well, love," James murmurs, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead. His eyes are warm as he looks down at you, full of something tender and deep.

Remus nods, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. "So beautiful."

You're still shaking, but it's a different kind now. Not of fear or nervousness, but of release, of letting go. It makes you feel lighter, like you've found something you didn't even know you were searching for.

"That was..." Sirius' voice is rough with emotion, his forehead resting against yours. "That was amazing." He exhales shakily, just as overwhelmed by the intensity of what just happened as you are.

You manage a weak smile, the corners of your mouth twitching up despite the exhaustion seeping into your bones. James strokes your cheek gently, while Remus snuggles in closer to your side.

As the high of your orgasm fades, leaving you warm and boneless, James is the first to shift. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls away. "Stay here, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice carrying that note of authority that somehow makes it easier to obey. "Let us take care of you."

You manage a slight nod, the aftershocks still rippling through you, leaving you boneless and satiated. Sirius carefully extricates himself from your body, pressing a final kiss to your lips before murmuring about needing to clean up. His voice is softer now, devoid of the usual cocksure arrogance, replaced by a tenderness that speaks volumes of the depth of his feelings.

As Sirius steps away, Remus remains at your side, fingertips tracing idle patterns over your skin. His lips press to your neck, then your shoulder—a silent promise that he is there, that he isn't going anywhere.

James moves with purpose, retrieving a soft cloth from the bedside table. It seems he always knows exactly what you need without having to ask—a testament to his attentive nature. The fabric is warm against your skin as he begins to clean you, wiping away traces of lube and cum with a gentleness that makes your heart swell. His hands are steady, fingers brushing lightly over your sensitive folds, not provoking but soothing.

Once James is done, Sirius reappears and slips under the covers beside you. His skin is still cool from washing up, his hair slightly damp where he's splashed water on his face. He gives you a lopsided grin, one that’s softer, more intimate after shared moments like these. "You alright, love?" he murmurs, fingers trailing over your cheek in a familiar caress.

You manage a weak nod, too spent to find words, but it's enough for him. He understands.

Remus, on your other side, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. "Rest now," he tells you, voice barely above a whisper, yet you can hear the note of pride there, the satisfaction that comes from knowing you've been cared for well.

Sirius shifts closer, his head coming to rest lightly on your stomach, an arm thrown carelessly over your legs. He's always been one for contact, drawing comfort from the warmth of another body against his own. His hair tickles your bare skin, but you don't mind; it's soothing, familiar, a presence uniquely Sirius.

James, too, is nearby, his hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. The warmth from all three of them envelops you, their steady breaths syncing with yours, creating a rhythm that lulls you further into relaxation.

James is the first to break the silence, his words dancing on the edge of jest and earnestness. "I want my turn soon," he says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a lopsided grin. "Remus made you come, and now Sirius has. It's hardly fair if I'm left out."

Your chuckle is quiet, your body too sated to produce more than that. "You don't have to make me climax every time," you say, knowing full well they'll ignore your protests. They always do. They're givers, all three of them, each one eager to see you unraveled in the best possible way.

James squeezes your hand gently. "We know. But we want to. You deserve it."

You should argue, but you're too spent, too content in their arms. And truthfully, you love how much they care, how much pleasure they derive from giving you this—this sense of being cherished, desired. So you let yourself sink deeper into their warmth, your heartbeat synchronising with theirs. The memory of Sirius's touch lingers on your skin, James's voice echoes in your mind, and Remus's watchful gaze still burns even with your eyes closed.

For now, it’s enough to just be here, in this moment, with them.

[charlottes-diary-entries]

metamorphmagus!reader drabble <3

very, very long fluffy ass drabble approaching, just about 2k words. im actually deeply insanely obsessed with the concept of the metamorphmagus (my non-binary is showing, i know) and need more content of a metamorphmagus!reader + poly!marauders.

you officially meet the marauders during your later years at Hogwarts. they'd heard of you before, how could they not? beyond the small class sizes (which required you be aware of essentially everyone in your year, willingly or not), and the houses (which only further narrowed your chances of not knowing anyone), it was difficult for something as rare as a metamorphmagus to slip under anyone's noses.

james recalled seeing you at quidditch games, your hair vividly colored to match whichever team you were supporting. he was often proud to look through the crowd and find you sporting flaring red locks, cheering alongside his fellow gryffindors. he was proud, even if he knew you weren't there for him. very secretly, he often found himself wanting you to be there for him.

remus remembered the awkward instance of a professor dragging you to the front of the class and demanding you transform for him and your peers. it was a substitute for care of magical creatures, and he was determined to treat you like something to study. remus had cringed as you shifted, clearly uncomfortable and disjointed, before running off and skipping the rest of the day, upset. he wished he had gone to comfort you.

sirius often thought about when he spotted you shifting back to your true face while being dragged through the corridors by minnie. she was huffing and puffing about something you had done, some harmless prank scaring some first years with a strange face, but you only laughed. when he caught your eye, you winked, and he could feel his cheeks flush as he grinned. he'd suspected you'd be great fun for a while yet, but you were just beginning to prove yourself to him.

you had mostly slipped them all by up until their fifth year. by then, the boys had all been dating each other only for a short amount of time but it was becoming apparent to the rest of the school that the marauders were now strictly "look, but don't touch". they were really too fond of each other to consider anyone else now! (this was deeply upsetting information for the many young witches and wizards who had their hearts set upon a member of the famous group.)

however, as you had continued to find passion and joy in care of magical creatures despite your previous experience, you were studying to be a magizoologist. this meant, you were assisting kettleburn while james took the class. which of course meant, he finally had a clear opportunity to befriend you.

you and james caught on like wildfire, and it didn't take long for him to begin dragging the other marauders into your study sessions. hours would pass by, quiet jokes turning into loud laughter and getting shushed by the librarian. they found your ability endlessly fascinating and you were only too happy to oblige your new friends. (one time you transformed into sirius and the two of you acted out him falling in love with himself. the uproar it sent james and remus into actually got you kicked out of the library.)

it didn't take very long for you to become the newest unofficial member of the marauders. you were their beloved friend, and unfortunately in remus's eyes, all too smart. you had figured out his "furry little secret" just within the first month of knowing them all. the next month, they sat together in the hospital wing. sirius was holding remus's hand as james lay next to him on the bed, trying to bring him what comfort they had to offer when you stormed in. they were all aghast when you appeared in the hospital wing after the full moon with a full load of chocolate, several novels, and a promise that you'd do anything you could to help Remus through the lunar cycle. (remus thinks this very well may be when he fell in love with you. didn't help that you refused to leave his side for the rest of the day, reading to him and holding his hand in an entirely friendly way.)

you often joined them for the famous gryffindor parties, often getting sufficiently drunk and completely out of your mind. your appearance would shift constantly, struggling to find one stable face and body when your mind was so fuzzy. you would dance and laugh with them all, so when remus had squeezed sirius's hand and sent him to the corner you'd tucked away in, he knew something was wrong. you had been rather viciously rejected by a ravenclaw you liked, and now, very drunk, you were moaning to sirius about your appearance. could you have made your lips fuller? grown your hair? maybe cut your hair? what could have been different, more attractive, what could have made them like you? bigger eyes? sharper features? he had held your shifting face, helping you calm down and relax into your true complexion. (sirius had thought you looked completely gorgeous as yourself, because no matter how you looked, no matter what changed, he could always tell when you were comfortable in your own skin. he liked you best like that.)

and you always stood for what you believed in. once, james and remus had to not-so-gently drag you away from someone who had loudly claimed werewolves were "inhuman monsters". you continued to shout after them until you were dragged out of their sight, after which you gave remus possibly the longest hug he'd ever had. james gave him a soft kiss on the cheek after they sent you off to class, hoping you wouldn't attack any other students. unfortunately, later that same day, james caught you shouting at the very same student, defending a muggle-born slytherin. he didn't hear what they said, but something shifted in your eyes before you physically shifted, taking on a shit-ton of muscle and pouncing on them. he raced to pull you off as you bellowed at them, wordless and angry, before a professor raced over and helped him. you were dragged off to detention for a week and the slytherin dealt with a broken jaw and black eye as punishment for calling the student you had defended a mudblood. (james only felt immense appreciation for you afterwards. he'd never seen you spark like that before, and he'd never seen you look so undeniably hot.)

it was an incredibly comforting conversation between the three of them when sirius had audibly expressed just how attractive you were. james and remus were quick to agree, and it grew to them admitting to each other their collective feelings for you. but with it suddenly out in the open, none of them knew how to interact with you anymore. the previously friendly touches now felt charged, every glance your way was longing, and none of them knew how to manage it.

it didn't help that you seemed to be pulling away from them either, flushing and quickly making your way out of most of your conversations with them. they thought they were scaring you off. in reality, you were scaring yourself off.

you felt the exact same as them, but deeply feared ruining one of your few lasting friendships at the school. you began shifting into new faces, new bodies, ones they wouldn't recognize in order to avoid them in the halls. it stung to see them searching for you in class and around school, and it stung more when they gave up. maybe if you avoided them you'd begin to feel normal about them again. (you'd had enough weird for a life time, the few normal things you could have you desperately clung to.)

eventually, they caught onto you. again, there were only so many students at Hogwarts, so seeing a new one every other day during their classes with you? it was a painfully ineffective tactic.

remus caught you one day, lounging by the lake. well, sulking seemed a more accurate word, as you were incredibly glum, despite being relaxed enough to look like yourself. it felt like the first time he'd seen your actual face in years. he called out to you.

you jumped, and turned to run, but he cried out for you to stay. and well, you couldn't deny him. not when he sounded like that. not when he sounded so... abandoned. you cringed as you turned around and he rushed up, grabbing your face, turning you this way and that, filled with worry. he asked if you were okay, if you'd been hurt, if they'd hurt you somehow, and why in godric's name were you avoiding them so much-

and gently, you grabbed his wrists to still him, opening your mouth to... to what? comfort him? lie and say you were fine? no words escaped you as remus realized what he'd done and quickly pulled his touch away from you, a flush spreading across his cheeks. (he nearly didn't notice how you'd deflated as he stepped back.)

an awkward, pained grin crossed his face as he looked at you and whispered to you, "where'd you go? what happened to... to us?"

you very nearly broke down in tears right then and there, sucking in a sharp breath as you tried to prepare for losing them. that could be the only possible resolution to all this mess, and you'd be on your own. again. that was fine. you began to speak again, before a shout interrupted you.

james barreled past remus to give you a bear hug so forceful he actually tackled you to the ground. sirius was not far behind him, slipping a hand around remus's side and leaning into him, relaxed at finally seeing you.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as you hugged james back, who only held you tighter, shouting that you could never leave them alone again. "we all love you too much to lose you ever again, so don't ever get lost, okay?"

you chuckled softly, more tears escaping as you buried your face into his neck. your laughter quickly boiled over into quiet sobs, shakily asking, "love, huh? that's- that's an awful big word, you- are you sure you love me?"

"love you? dove, we're plain obsessed with you-" james finally pulled back, shaking your shoulders then cupping your cheeks. "don't cry lovie, why are you crying?"

"because you don't- you don't love me the way i love you."

james tilted his head at you, deciphering your words, before your true meaning hit him like a truck. he grinned, whispering a quiet "fuck it" before shoving completely into your space and smashing his lips against yours. his glasses went crooked and you gasped into it, and there was some teeth clashing from how much james was smiling, but it was wonderful.

when he finally pulled back, panting and gleefully laughing, you could hear sirius's wolf-whistle and remus's shocked chuckles. you quickly looked between all of them, completely shocked before locking back onto james.

"you- you kissed me."

"sure did, dove."

"did," you glanced between all of them again, now keeping your eyes on sirius and remus as you leaned towards james and whispered, "do all of you want to do that?"

james somehow grinned even brighter. "sure do, dove."

"oh."

you felt your cheeks become ridiculously warm as sirius plopped beside you two, dragging remus down with him and smirking at you the entire time. you shyly smiled at him as he leaned over and smacked a kiss to your cheek.

"how- how long have you all been- how long have you felt this way?"

"long enough dove," remus said, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you.

"certainly long enough."

i'm begging someone to request more metamorphmagus!reader, especially gender queer or otherwise. (i'll probably still write it even if you don't though, lol) i will also be writing more magizoologist!reader! just smth about a reckless partner that the marauders just can't keep track of... <3

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

Aurorise | ateez x reader

Pairing: prince!ateez x dancer!reader

Genre: royalty, historical fiction, poly, adventure

Word Count: 2278 words

Summary: The story of how you, a dancer, upheaved an entire monarchy all by falling in love with eight princes.

a/n: and so it begins... :)

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Chapter 2

Royal betrothals took place on the night of the Spring Equinox. Five years ago, when your cousin became engaged to Prince Chan, you left the village to pursue the dance group with your close-knit group of friends — Hoshi, Woozi, Hoseok, Moonbyul and Sakura.

As soon as daybreak arrived, the village was already stirring with frenzied movement and bustling commotion. The villagers excitedly and animatedly rushed about, chattering amongst themselves of who might become the Princes’ royal consort. And when the sun began to descend upon the horizon and night crept in, everyone hurriedly gathered in their designated spots in the palace courtyard, awaiting the verdict.

In your Kingdom, not only nobles participated in this event, but also families whose parents either worked in the royal army or the royal court. Your father was the Head of the Royal Guard alongside his brother who was his Second in Command. They bravely and fearlessly defended the Kingdom from opposing forces. However, after a failed and near disastrous peace treaty alliance, he left the position and opened a practice academy to help young men who were interested in joining the royal army when they came of age to prepare themselves. 

Your father’s dedication to the royal army even after resigning his post pleased the King and so, the royal treasury funded your father’s academy. This led to your family remaining in good graces with the royal family even if your Father and the King were no longer close as before, but it did fracture your relationships with the villagers, who were profusely calling and beseeching for financial aid to no avail.

As a result, if there was one thing the villagers delighted in more than anything, was the possibility of seeing your family embarrassed and humiliated by the royal family. All eyes were on you since your older sister had married the son of one of your father’s colleagues, and there were no princesses in the royal family for your brother to court.

The betrothal was to determine the future partners of Prince Chan and Prince Seonghwa and you were of age to participate but, in contrast your cousin, ho everyone knew had prepared her whole life for this moment and was the epitome in your family as the perfect candidate, you were a wildcard - a free-spirit who revelled in the spontaneity of life and never took a lesson on royal etiquette. 

The odds of you being selected was very low, and the idea of being rejected with all eyes watching felt like a sweet revenge for the villagers.

But you didn’t attend the betrothal. After a heated argument with your father about being a hopeless case and nothing like your cousin, you left that night with your friends. 

You never knew what happened.

-

And during a time like this, after your past history of foregoing the betrothals, being an overthinker did not help your situation. Gazing outside from your window, you were lost deep in thought, your mind preoccupied and racing back and forth. 

After registering Prince’s San actions, with a flustered expression - your mind boggled by his radiant smile and your racing heart, you arose from your spot, bowed to the King signalling your respect and then scampered out of the courtyard. Racing hurriedly through the village’s path, you dashed straight into your family’s home and into your room, locking the door. 

The news had rapidly spread like a wildfire and reached the ears of your father who was not pleased.

“You have to marry him Y/N.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Father, Prince San likes to play games. I’m not going to marry him.”

Your Father frustratingly massages his temples as he responds, “It’s just like before isn’t it? You’re going to only think about yourself and not about your family’s reputation.”

“Father,” you stress irritatedly, “The villagers already disliked us after the royal treasurer disclosed that the royal treasury will fund your school while their calls for help were ignored. They’ve been waiting for us to mess up one way or another. It doesn’t matter if I marry Prince San, they’ll find some way to twist it and make us look bad.”

“It does matter Y/N, let them know that the monarchy is on our side! That the King stands with us!”

“Are you not listening, Father? No one cares about a dysfunctional and corrupted monarchy, the only reason they don’t leave is because no Kingdom will give them an easy time for relocating in their jurisdiction.”

“Well maybe if you had attended the betrothal, we could’ve silenced them once and for all. But no, you only think about yourself. You’re not like your cousin.”

Tiredly you rub your forehead and place your face in your palms, trying to maintain your composure in front of your Father. Frustration and irritation are coiling inside you, ready to erupt like a volcano.

“Enough!” your Mother yells, “Y/N go to your room and try to relax and you, go make yourself useful for me and buy some groceries. Don’t come back until you get everything on that list!”

After the confrontation you stayed in your room, and for the last few hours, you continuously paced back and forth like a maniac, racking your brain to make sense of what occurred. The veil was still in your possession and sprawled across your bed, seemingly mocking you. You couldn’t even spare a glance, lest you started panicking again.

Any attempts at sleeping off the uneasiness failed as the moment you began to doze off, your brain decided to resurface the events and you jolted awake in anxiousness and worry. Now, you stared at the village intently, planning your next course of action. You concluded to not venture out of your room until it was time to leave with the group. If it was up to you, you all would have been on your way by tomorrow morning. 

Unfortunately, you all had decided to stay for at least a week - therefore, you wouldn’t be leaving your room until next Wednesday.

Hoshi arrived later in the evening to check in and update you on the recent gossip.

“Yeah you’re the talk of the town.” he expressed nonchalantly while munching on some warm buttered bread courtesy your Mother. 

“That makes me feel so much better Hoshi, thank you.” you responded sarcastically.

He narrowed his eyes at you before flinging the veil at you in retaliation. You caught it, and proceeded to batter him with it.

“Hey!” he cried, “You’ll make me drop my bread! Stooooop!”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” you asked out of breath, “Not your best friend being emotionally distressed right now!?”

After blocking your blows and stuffing the bread into his mouth, he captured you in a hug and began to pet your hair as an attempt to calm you down. You thrashed around a bit to continue your mayhem but gave up knowing that Hoshi is stronger than you.

“Relax,” he assured, continuing to stroke the middle of your head, “It’s only because all the girls are jealous that you’re the one who managed to single handedly and easily catch the eyes of the Prince. And their parents are even more envious, which is typical of them.”

“Yes but…”

“Remember when we first left to pursue the group? The Aunty who runs the fruit stall had so much to say about us! Now look, she was telling my mom the other day how she knew we were going to be successful and that she always had faith in us. A huge hypocrite! She’s lucky I’m afraid of my mother otherwise I’d tell her about her annoying kids and how rotten she is just like the fruit she tries to sell.”

Chuckling at Hoshi’s spiel, you remove yourself calmly from his embrace and turn to him.

“And your point is?”

“People will talk no matter what. They have nothing better to do and their opinion of you isn’t true. While I can understand their distress of being ignored by the King, for them to put the brunt of it on you is unfair and uncalled for. Just lay low until we leave.”

“Well that’s the plan but I wish it was that easy,” you dejectedly replied, “My father is disappointed again. I’m a huge disappointment to him again just like last time. He cares more about the monarchy than me.”

Hoshi squints his eyes and grabs you in another hug.

“Ack!”

“As much as I respect your Father,” he begins, “I don’t like the way he talks to you. But just know that you don’t have to be like your cousin, she’s on her own path and so are you. Hopefully your Father sees that one day and if not, we can ask our moms to rally up their groups and chase him and my Father throughout the village. I don’t know why they are so obsessed with the King.”

He frees you from his hold and holds your shoulders and smiles.

“It’s not like anything else will happen.”

“Y/N! Y/N!” your sister screams frantically, “The King is on his way here!”

You shoot up from your position, your eyes filling with fear as the anxiousness and nervousness returning and descending like a huge crashing wave. Sadly, Hoshi didn’t make you feel better.

“Hm, I stand corrected,” he commented.

Meanwhile, your Father puffs his chest proudly as he waits outside the gate. When the Royal Messenger appeared and announced the King’s arrival, your Father left all the groceries he was supposed to return with and rushed back. As the carriage pulls to a stop in front of him, he is already bowing as the King descends and saunters ahead while the villagers who are present whisper amongst themselves.

The King sits in a plush and cushioned satin chair that is your Father’s favourite and scrutinises the living room while your Father stoops in front of him.

“It’s been a while Y/L/N,” the King articulate curtly, “The last time we convened was at the betrothal.”

“It’s been long overdue to have you at my home, Your Majesty,” your Father responds, “It’s an absolute pleasure to have you grace us with your presence.”

 Hoshi judges your Father beside you while snacking on another slice of buttered bread. Behind the wall that separates the living room and the kitchen, a small group consisting of you, Hoshi, your older siblings and your mother are huddled together trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

The King settles himself more comfortably into the chair before continuing, “Your daughter neither attending nor participating in the betrothal is very surprising. Adding on to the fact that she’s a part of the most famous dance group throughout the lands yet, they never performed here until today. Most of them are from this village too, no?”

Unsure and shyly your Father explains, “What can I say your Majesty? Y/N is a free-spirit, she doesn’t listen to me and likes to do her own thing. I wanted her to attend the betrothal but she chose to pursue dance instead. And I told her that they should have their first performance here! But kids think they know better than their elders.”

Your mother shakes her head in disapproval and you peer judgingly as you hear your Father’s remarks. 

“Liar.” you mutter.

“She’s not like her cousin.” 

You roll your eyes at your Father but you can’t ignore the pang of hurt that flashes through you. If there’s one thing currently whirring in your mind, albeit it might sound selfish, it was that you shouldn’t have returned home. You should’ve stayed where you were.

“Well,” the King begins, “I am here because my son has requested my permission to marry your daughter.”

“Excuse me!?” you exclaim

Your family gasps and the Royal Messenger sideyes the kitchen, but it goes unnoticed by the King. Your mind spins feverishly and adrenaline shoots through your body upon this revelation. In a hushed tone, Hoshi shushes you and places a hand over your mouth to stop you from blowing your cover.

While all of you are flabbergasted and in shock, your Father beams excitedly and deeply bows to the King.

“Yes your Majesty! Of course we accept your proposal for Y/N to Prince San. What happened earlier spread very quickly across the village. And as her Father I was worried for her reputation. But now knowing this—“

“Not Prince San.” The King proclaims.

Your father stammers in confusion, unsure how to respond. Meanwhile, your heart rate accelerates and you turn to your Mother with worried eyes. She’s mirroring the same expression back to you. 

“Then…to who?”

“As per his request to me,” the King announces, “Y/N will marry my son, Prince Seonghwa, who is second in line for the throne.”

-

When it was revealed that you would not be in attendance, the villagers began to gossip that you bowed out early because you knew you were never going to be selected.

“I’m not surprised,” The Fruit Lady chides, “At least she has the common sense to know she’s not fit to become a wife to a prince. Then again, she and that rag-tag group wants to become dancers, so she probably used up all the common sense she had.”

The other villagers laugh and join in ridiculing you before making guesses about who might be selected. Once it wasn’t you, they didn’t care who it might be. But to their utter shock and surprise, after Prince Chan’s proposal to your cousin, Prince Seonghwa steps forward and declares unapologetically.

“I withdraw myself from this bethroment. I will not be proposing to anyone tonight.”

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Taglist: @chngbnwf

[charmercharm3r]

Phases Masterlist

3/3 Main Completed, ?/? Minor Completed

LMH, HJS

Masterlist

Story Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung x fem!reader, lots of kissing and groping lol, more specific warnings in individual chapters

Main:

Preview

Phase One: Emotion Sickness

Phase Two: Wildfire

Phase Three: When He Sees Me

Minor:

Phase Four: The Bigger Bed

Drabbles: one, two, three

-

Series tag list: @bookwyrm28 @ladylexis @blankdyean @sujurunaway @mal-lunar-28 @pussy-drunk @bangchxnnie @lyramundana @bumblebee-zone @bloopreads @propertyoftoru @ana-stasssiaaa @iheartjozzy @kurxxmi @i-dont-know-me-either @alice630 @jellylver @luvminmin @abcdefgiwsmcty @felixbrownies143 @sevngmin148 @myprwttyhan @ener-energy @3rachasninja @jisuperboard @got-it-from-my-daddy @prncsscrybby @sunnysorasworld @httpfairy @marked-unknown @renovachrono @slid3er @chanlovesme @whosanaanyway @adorepjw @peterparkoure @starquokka @daddysspecialdollyworld @drikenz @skyvastbunny @faerie-bees @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @jamlessstars @angeldhd (also included those who reblogged with interest!)

A/N: If you want to be tagged just for this series, please leave a comment on this page or on the preview post! Or for future updates on all my other works, join my tag list!

[throneofsapphics]

pls pls reader is Rowan’s ex and they haven’t seen each other in 7 years so when they finally do meet again he’s already mated to aelin but then Rowan also stumbles across reader’s 7 year old daughter who happens to look exactly like Rowan

old faces

ex Rowan Whitethorn x Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years.

Warnings: none I can think of

A/N: thank you for the request!! this now is continued as poly!rowaelin.

series masterlist

You moved to Antica specifically to stay far away from Wendlyn, and stayed to put distance between you and Terrasen. You thought it would be the best place to … not necessarily hide, but to avoid unwanted attention. Your daughter had very distinct features, and even the two of you stuck out somewhat here, but the locals didn’t seem to pay much mind to it. Especially considering your mother had been from there, even though your father was Fae, from Wendlyn. It made it easy to blend in, even in places where your kind was still regarded with suspicion. 

As soon as you learned you were pregnant, you fled. Anything to get her far, far away from Maeve, even if it meant leaving Rowan, and hiding it from him. Not that you’d been very official, both of you knew it was a temporary arrangement, but even something temporary can turn into a permanent reminder. 

The royal visit was announced, and you couldn’t flee the city without looking suspicious. You’d spent the last seven years avoiding attention, and knew any day this could collapse on you, sweeping in to uproot both of your lives. 

“Aren’t you going to see them?” Your friend asked, head tilted. 

“No,” you said quietly. 

“I want to,” your daughter peeped up, and you threw your head back in a groan. 

“Come on,” your friend encouraged, “I’ll go with you.” 

The excitement on your daughter's face kept you from pushing against it. The next few days, all she could talk about was seeing Queen Aelin of the wildfire. The legendary war hero. And her King consort. You should’ve told her the truth, but every time you went to bring it up - something else distracted you. 

-

Rowan caught a glimpse of silver hair, and the flash of a familiar face before they disappeared into the crowd. He could be seeing things, but he doubted it. Still, what would you be doing this far away from Wendlyn? Your mother was from Antica, he remembered, but you didn’t have any reason to leave the roots you’d established near Varese. Any reasons he knew of.

“There’s someone I need to find,” he told Aelin later that night. It stuck in his mind for hours, and he needed to figure out if it was actually you. Normally he wouldn’t care, but an instinct pricked the back of his neck, and those instincts served him well so far. 

Aelin eyed him with suspicion, but agreed, and they snuck out of the palace, sticking to the shadows to make their way through the streets as he tracked your scent, still familiar to him - even seven years after he’d last seen you. 

Laughter came from a front garden, a child running in circles, one female - you, and a human woman sitting on a bench. 

The child. Aelin took a sharp breath next to him. Silver hair, green eyes. Female, but a near replica of him. Aelin’s arm wound under his shoulders, he hadn’t realized his knees buckled. 

Alarm shined on your face as you took in the two of them. Your daughter scurried behind you, head peeking out behind your legs. 

Hidden, you’d fled to hide her from … her. Just like Aedion had been hidden away. 

“Rowan,” Aelin said quietly, catching his attention who is she? Her eyes asked. 

Y/n. We dated several years ago, he replied. Aelin let out a small hum, he’d told her about you before. Told her everything. 

“I’m leaving,” you shifted back and forwards on her feet, hands clasped in front of you. Rowan knew this day would come. Maeve’s bloodsworn didn’t have long-term relationships. Not with the danger, more with Maeve’s reluctance for them to become entangled with anyone. Attached anywhere that might split their loyalties. 

“Alright,” he replied, keeping his expression neutral. Your beauty struck him first, followed by your kind disposition, and finished by your sense of wit and intelligence. In another world, perhaps he could’ve built a life with you. 

Your face fell briefly, but you gave him a small smile before turning on your heel. Something was wrong, off, and he couldn’t quite figure out what. 

“Wait,” he said before you went far. Your shoulders rolled back, and you turned to face him. “Where will you go?” Instinctively, he knew you meant leaving the area, not just him. 

“Here and there,” you hedged, and took off again. Rowan didn’t chase you, if you wanted to leave he could let you go. It was about time, anyway. Maeve had become suspicious recently. 

Aelin didn’t seem jealous, if anything she seemed curious and … maybe excited. 

“Your majesties,” you murmured, dropping into a low bow. It felt wrong to him, to have you giving such formal greetings. 

“No need,” Aelin smiled warmly at you, you returned a wary one. 

“Is she ..?” Rowan asked, even though it was obvious. 

“Yes,” you swallowed. Your … their daughter had stayed back, holding on to the hand of your friend now. You unlatched the gate. “If you’d want to come in,” you waved an awkward hand behind them. Thankfully, Aelin took the lead and strode right inside.

Your eyes met his, lips pressed into a tight line, before you looked away. 

“Come say hello,” you called to her. She seemed to gain some courage, and bounded back towards you. 

Still half hidden behind you, she dropped into a curtsey. Aelin crouched down and held out a hand, introducing herself, and she took a few hesitant steps towards her. Aelin always had an easy way around kids, and his … daughter was no exception. Your friend came over, introducing herself and managed to lead both of them away, as if sensing he needed some time to talk to you. 

“She was looking forward to seeing your Queen,” you murmured quietly. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” 

“I didn’t plan to,” At least you were honest, even if his chest grew tight. He had a right to know his child, to help raise them, to protect both of you. “At first,” you caught his attention again, stopping his train of thoughts. “I considered it after … things changed, but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” 

“She’s my daughter. It’s an honor, not an obligation,” the words flew out before he could think clearly. “I should be there to -” 

“We don’t need anything,” you cut him off. 

“That’s not,” he let out a slow breath, “I want to help.” Saying he has a right to help raise her probably wouldn’t gain him any points in this case. 

“We live on different continents.” At least you weren’t outright rejecting it. He fought the urge to ask you to move closer, to Terrasen - where he could make sure the two of you were safe. Where the past was less likely to be repeated. 

“She’ll be in danger if anyone finds out. You both will.” 

Sure, peace had come, but there were still enemies out there. Still people who didn’t like him or Aelin. Even with a different mother, she would have a claim to the throne if she wanted it. His Fae instincts raged at him, to take both of you away from here - to hide you from any threats or harm, and it took most of his self control to shove them down. 

“They don’t know,” even you looked hesitant, as if you didn’t quite believe the words. With their visit, it’s likely at least a few people will put together her relation. The features are quite distinct. He pinned you with a look, calling your bullshit. Your mouth indented at one corner as you glanced back at him with a shrug, “It would be too much to hope for things to be simple, wouldn’t it?” 

It really would. 

He watched Aelin, a small flame in her palm, delight showing in the small girl’s eyes. She turned her palm, a small gust of wind extinguishing the flame. Maybe on instinct, Aelin looked at him with raised brows. Apparently his daughter had inherited his own magic. Pride filled him, along with caution. Someone would need to train her. 

-

You had a sad smile on your face as you watched the Queen of Terrasen with your daughter. Not once had you entertained the idea of Rowan returning to you. But, maybe you could co-parent with them somehow. With her origins obvious, someone in the city would begin to put the pieces together, and you knew she needed someone to train her in magic. 

There really wasn’t a better option than the male standing next to you. When you first saw him, it felt like you were seeing a ghost. A distant memory, come circling back in your life. 

You laid in his arms, head against his bare chest as he ran a hand down your back. How many people got to see this side of the feared warrior? You were definitely in the minority. A few minutes later, and you rolled off him. One hour til you had to be at work. It was one of the few weekends you both had free, and it came to an end all too soon. 

“When will I see you again?” You asked as he tugged a spare tunic from his pack. The answer would be the same, would be what it always was, but you still asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

The next time you met, only a few weeks later, you already knew a small life form had begun to grow inside you and had made your decision.

Things had been too peaceful the last seven years, too simple, and it felt like you were always waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Her daughter was intelligent enough she knew she’d already put the pieces together, and that she’d have several questions to ask later on.

“What happens next?” You asked him quietly after a few minutes. 

“We can figure it out tomorrow.”

[im-ovulating]

Hai darling!

So I was really hoping you could make an poly!volturi kings x reader where the reader asks them "would you still love me if I was a worm" XD.

Hope you enjoy~❤️

Navigation

Word Count: 414

Warnings: None, GN! Reader

Age Rating: None

Volturi Kings x "Would You Still Love Me If I Was a Worm?"

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

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" Your voice rings out in the otherwise quiet room.

The shuffling of Caius's papers and the barely perceptible discussion between Marcus and Aro stop as the three of them turn their heads to look at you.

"I'm sorry, Mi Amore?" Marcus questions.

Caius lets out a huff of amusement, letting his co leaders handle yet another of your trivial questions. Aro lets out a cackle before speeding over to your spot near the fireplace. His cool hands cup your face, pulling your gaze to his.

"There is nothing in the entire universe that you could be or do that would stifle our love for you, dear. I can promise you that" He finishes by places the softest of kisses on your brow.

Marcus speaks up as Aro pulls away from you, hand sliding down to rest on the side of your neck. "As overly saccharine as it sounds, he's not wrong: there's nothing on this godforsaken earth that would stop our love for you from flourishing."

You can't help the smile that blooms at your mates' words, warmth blossoming in your chest and spreading like a wildfire. Though your grin quickly turns malicious as you turn towards a certain blonde who had stuck his nose back into the scrolls he was skimming through.

"Caius~" Your voice turns sickly sweet as you stand up and skip over to him.

Plopping down unceremoniously in his lap, you dramatically wrap an arm around his neck and throw your head back, other hand twirling up to rest the back of it against your forehead as your eyes slide shut.

"Is this really necessa-" He's cut off by your theatrics.

"You don't love me, do you?" You cry out, the back of your hand still against your forehead.

He lets out a low growl. You feel his cold, firm grip on your chin before you're being forced to meet his crimson orbs, alight in a way you've never seen before.

"Don't." His voice is nothing short of dangerous as it rings around the study. "Don't you ever question my love for you -joke or not. Yes, I would still bloody love you if you were a damned worm. Are you satisfied, Tesoro?"

You can only nod your head, cheeks squished between his long fingers. You can't deny that the display of dominance and power has something curling deep inside you, setting you alight in a different way from before.

[jerzwriter]

Mono~poly Chapter 5: Beautiful Days

A Tobias x Casey AU - Information and Notes

AU Premise: What happens when something that was supposed to be just fun turns into something real? When true love enters the equation between two people who view the very concept of love in different ways, can it work? In this alternate universe, we'll follow Casey and Tobias (and some others along the way) on their journey, where a happy ending is what both desire, but (as in life) nothing is guaranteed.

Fandom: Open Heart, Choices** Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish F!MC Characters: Ethan Ramsey, Jackie Varma and OCs: Vivian Carrick, Jordan Carrick, Rose D'Allesandro, Addie Larkin, David MacTavish, Peter MacTavish, Diana Ellington-Rourke Rating: Teen Words: 5,300

Chapter Summary: The chapter begins with friends and family gathering for Tobias and Casey's big day. There is much revelry to be had, but for some, emotions run high. Later, the couple has settled into a happily married life where the honeymoon never seems to end. But as they prepare to celebrate their third anniversary, Casey receives an offer that is hard to refuse. Will that change things?

A/N: Participating in @choicesaugustchallenge Day 30 - Summer Wedding. A huge thank you to @angelasscribbles for prereading this for me!

The news spread like wildfire. It only took days for all of Boston to be abuzz over the engagement of Drs. Tobias Carrick and Casey MacTavish; it only took a few more before it was news in their hometowns, too. The announcement was met with a blend of joy and levity. While those who knew him had had a few years to get used to Tobias trading his swinging single life, and most were thrilled about his union with Casey, a dose of good-natured ribbing was bound to take place.

His mother, Vivian, was overjoyed and initiated her plans to deliver an August wedding that would leave people talking for years at once. With two confirmed bachelors as sons, she never thought she’d live to see this day, and she wasn't containing her excitement. When she stopped in to see Casey the morning of the wedding, she informed the young woman that she was erecting an altar for her daughter-in-law-to-be in her backyard, and Casey wasn't sure if she was joking.

In Casey’s corner of the world, her mother, Rose, was equally enthusiastic. Her reaction warmed Casey’s heart despite her fears over the inevitable conversations about how her father, David, would fit into the wedding plans. Those negotiations were fraught with tension and left Casey in tears - that’s the thing about the emotional baggage childhood delivers: it never fully goes away.

But Tobias was having none of it; he was totally serious about eloping if they failed to get their act together, and Casey was completely on board. That ultimatum was all Vivian needed to hear before she put the fear of God into both the D’Allesandro and MacTavish families. She promptly called a meeting, telling Tobias and Casey that she would take care of it all. Within an hour, Vivian emerged from the locked room with a satisfied grin and nary a hair out of place, assuring, “They will behave.”

Now, after months of planning and fuss... the day was finally here. It was time to celebrate the happy couple's love and commitment, and they were on top of the world.

After a chaotic morning, Casey was enjoying a quiet moment alone before the ceremony began. The soft hum of voices and laughter of guests who had gathered outside seeped through the venue’s walls as she adjusted the final touches of her wedding gown, its delicate lace and satin catching the light just so when Ethan entered the room.

His arrival went unnoticed. So, he leaned against the doorframe, allowing himself a few precious moments to take her in. A broad smile tugged at his lips, despite a hint of sadness lingering in his eyes. Clearing his throat to make his presence known, he moved toward her with the ease and familiarity of their long-standing bond.

“It’s not too late to run away,” he said with a playful grin. “Just say the word, and I’ll drive the getaway car.”

Casey turned toward him, her smile bright as her eyes met his. Ethan. Her dear friend, Ethan. While some might balk at a bride having her former lover as one of her bridal attendants, Tobias wholeheartedly supported her choice. He understood the depth of their friendship and was pleased that Casey would have him by her side on this special day. He wanted nothing more than for his bride to have everything her heart desired.

“Come on, Ethan," she teased. "You and Tobias buried the hatchet years ago. Do you really want to hurt him that bad?”

“Of course I don’t," he smiled. "And that would absolutely kill him.” He took a deep breath, his eyes still reflecting the bittersweet emotions in his heart. “You look absolutely stunning, Casey. You’re going to take Tobias’s breath away.”

“Thank you,” she blushed.

“He doesn’t deserve you – you know that, right?”

Casey winked playfully and adjusted the layers of her skirt. “I know!”

The tender moment burst when Jackie rushed into the room, her nervousness palpable. “Hate to bust this party up, but the photographer needs us in 15 minutes, and I have to finish getting the princess camera ready.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Not ready? She's gorgeous! How can you improve on that?”

Casey chuckled softly. “See, I told you I needed him around to bolster my ego! But I do have some last minute touches to complete.” She shooed Ethan away. “Go - go join the other attendants and have fun. I’ll be down before you know it.”

Jackie clapped her hands the moment Ethan exited the room. “It’s almost showtime! You ready?”

Casey beamed with a joy that radiated from inside. “You better believe I am! I can’t believe it’s already time!”

Jackie looked at her friend in the mirror, her smile faltering just a bit. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered. “But you do have the prenup in order, right?”

The smile fell from Casey's face. “Jackie! Is that any way to talk to me 30 minutes before my wedding?” She tried to keep the mood light, but there was an unmistakable trace of annoyance in her voice. But it would take more than that to deter Jackie.

“You didn’t answer?”

Casey’s heart sank as she turned to her friend. “His family’s attorneys sent one over last week, but Tobias lost his mind. He insisted he didn’t want one; we’re going to be together forever, so…”

Jackie rolled her eyes, and it didn't go unnoticed. “Jackie, really? You’re my maid of honor! Tell me you’re joking about this! These are supposed to be the happiest moments of my life.”

Jackie’s internal struggle had her light-headed. She loved Casey, and she loved Tobias, too. She couldn’t deny their relationship had proven even the greatest skeptics wrong; they’d be relationship goals personified if not for that one promise. She was the only one who knew Casey had made it three years before, and if Tobias ever called in the offer of dabbling in non-monogamy, she wasn’t confident her friend would be able to handle it; if that happened, she doubted their marriage would survive. Still, Casey was relying on her, so Jackie forced herself back to the present.

“You know I’m an asshole,” she grinned. “I’m joking, girl. I love you, and I love Tobias, too. Come on. Let’s get you ready to marry your man.”

Casey took a deep breath as Jackie delicately placed the veil on her head. She’d have to be a fool to pretend she couldn't read Jackie's thoughts. Yet, at this moment, her heart was overflowing with joy, leaving no room for doubts. She loved Tobias with all her heart, and his love for her ran just as deep. She couldn’t imagine being happier than she was today. Yes, Casey was confident... this was forever.

The ceremony went off without a hitch; a Hollywood director couldn’t have scripted it better. Tobias wiped away tears as Casey walked down the aisle. She had opted to walk alone, and at that moment, he silently promised she’d never be alone again. Casey had struggled to hold back her tears - her make-up was flawless, after all - but her husband’s heartfelt vows diminished her resolve. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house when the officiant pronounced them husband and wife; the joy was unmistakable.

Vivian had meticulously planned the reception to be an elegant affair, but with Tobias & Casey as the bridal couple, there was bound to be some debauchery. Still, the revelry was kept in check, and after a couple of hours of staying glued to each other’s side, they began making the rounds. Tobias was on the dance floor with his friend Addie, who Casey had finally managed to wrangle into a bridesmaid’s dress.

“And they said it couldn’t be done,” Addie grinned.

“Ehh, that was a long time ago. Tell me you haven’t expected this from the moment I met Casey?”

“The moment? No. Absolutely not,” Addie laughed. “A year in... mmmm... maybe. But all I know is I’ve never seen you smile like this. I’m really happy for you, T.”

Tobias’s beamed, his face a picture of pride, joy, and contentment. “Thank you. I’m happy for me, too.” As they continued to dance, Addie leaned in closer, and Tobias returned to the playful banter that marked their friendship.

“Hey, I just realized... you’re here alone tonight. You’re always whining that you only get plus ones on your invites. Casey and I give you a plus two, and who do you bring? No one!”

“Relax!” she chortled. “It wasn’t intentional. My boyfriend is traveling with his band, and my girlfriend was going to come, but her Mom got sick, and she had to fly back to Dallas yesterday.”

“That’s too bad. I was hoping to get to know them better; I swear you’re hiding them from me.”  

“That’s not true,” she insisted. “The three of us are just pretty independent. But on the upside, I’m here stag, so if I run into any cute guests...”

Tobias barked out a laugh, “They won’t have a chance against you!”

Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find his mother, resplendent in an emerald green satin gown. “Mind if I cut in?” she asked.

Addie raised her hands with a playful smile. “As if I’d argue with you, Vivian.” She gave Tobias a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying off.

Tobias took his mother in his arms, his heart full of love and gratitude. “Have I mentioned how grateful I am for all you’ve done for us today?”

“A few times,” she nodded. “But please continue. I think I'm entitled to hear it multiple times since you made me wait so damn long for this day."

Tobias chuckled, and then his gaze landed on Casey. “I think it was worth the wait, don’t you?”

Vivian followed his line of sight and nodded with a smile. “Absolutely! Casey is a gem. I love her as if she is my own." She turned back to her son with a sigh. "You did good, Tobias. Now, don’t mess this up!”  

“I promise, Mom. See that smile on her face? I intend to make sure she looks that way every day for the rest of her life."

“That’s what I want to hear,” she smiled as they swayed to the music. “Is she enjoying the day?” taking a half-step back, she changed her tone. “Has her family been behaving?”

Tobias winced slightly, and Vivian knew he was grappling to decide if he should tell her the truth. “Overall, yes... but her Father and one of his relatives were overheard discussing how relieved they are that she ended up marrying a man.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Vivian spat. “Do I need to intervene?”

“No,” Tobias laughed. “We don't want bloodshed at the wedding, Ma. Besides, Casey shook it off, and her cousin, Peter, made it very clear that they needed to knock it off. Let’s just say I’m confident there won’t be any more incidents.”

“Well, as long as Casey is all right.”

“She is; she told me nothing is going to spoil today for her... for us.”

“I’m glad,” Vivian smiled. “Because this is a glorious day and if anyone messed it up... no promises on the bloodshed.”

The reception was winding down, but the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music still filled the air. Casey was sitting at a table with friends, their spirits high as they recounted funny stories from the past and talked about the day’s events. Casey had her head tilted back in laughter when Tobias slipped up behind her and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

“All right, this has been the best day of my life, baby, but we have a honeymoon in Bali to get to... and honey... do I have plans for you.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow as she put down her drink. “So, what you’re saying is, in a couple of days, this will be demoted to the second or third best day of your life?”

Tobias’s brother Jordan chuckled from the other end of the table. “Well, their honeymoon is 14 days long, so this is going to be his 15th best day real soon.”

Casey rolled her eyes as the group burst into laughter, and then she looked at Jackie and Sienna’s way. “I should go get changed. Jackie, Sienna, mind helping me out of this dress?”

“Hey!” Tobias interjected with a teasing grin. “Isn’t that my job?”

“There will be plenty of time for that on the honeymoon,” Casey winked, giving him a gentle shove before she headed off, leaving Tobias and his friends behind. He ordered a bottle of the restaurant’s finest Scotch to continue the celebration. When it arrived, Ethan took it in hand, visibly approving the choice. He poured a glass for everyone as the toasting began.

“Here’s to Tobias!” Bryce started. “The man who swore he’d never do something as crazy as this, and look at him now... he’s totally whipped.”

“Seriously,” his brother, Jordan, chimed in. “I’m so happy, and not just because you took some family pressure to get hitched off of me! As the now sole confirmed bachelor of the Carrick family, I wish you the very best... Casey is precious - now, don’t screw this up!”

Ethan was the next to go. “To Tobias. You’ve married a wonderful woman. Casey’s very lucky but nowhere near as lucky as you. Remember to appreciate every moment.”

“Salut!”  the friends toasted as Ethan forced a smile. Seated at Tobias’s side, his friend Addie looped her arm in his and raised her glass.

“Hey, I’m not getting left out of this!” she insisted with a grin. “Cheers to my dear friend Tobias—the one person I thought was less likely to settle into monogamy than me. Just look at you proving us all wrong. But I get it... Casey is amazing, and I’m genuinely, truly happy for you.”

“Thank you," he winked. "So, you gonna join me over here on this monogamy train."

“Oh, no fucking chance!” Addie laughed.

There was only one person left, Casey’s cousin Peter. Both were only children, and they grew up closer than most siblings, and all eyes were on him when he raised his glass.

“Tobias, I’ve watched the love between you and Casey grow over the past three years. It’s hard to believe, but every time I see you, it appears to deepen and grow. I couldn't be happier for both of you. Here’s to a future filled with love, laughter, and everything your hearts desire. But remember... be good to her.”

“I wouldn’t dream of treating her any other way," Tobias insisted.

“Good,” Peter laughed, giving Ethan’s shoulder a playful slap on the shoulder. “Then you’ll save the two of us the trouble of having to dispose of your body.”

They all raised their glasses and drank. The warmth of the Scotch reflected the warm feeling in the room. Surrounded by love and well wishes, Tobias and Casey continued their journey. Neither could wait for the life they were about to build.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fluorescent lights in the diagnostic team’s office created the illusion of midday, even as dusk approached outside. What had once been a sterile, impersonal space had transformed over the years, thanks to Casey’s loving touch. Shelves that were once filled solely with medical journals and textbooks now showcased lush plants and carefully chosen photos. Ethan had initially approved the more formal shots— the team at award dinners, conferences, and the like—but Casey had managed to slip in some candid moments, too. Memories that highlighted the friendship the members of the team shared. Now, photos of them at local festivals, picking pumpkins in the fall, turning green at amusement parks, and smiling on a sunset cruise dotted the room. She had argued that they spent more time at work than they did at home, so their space should reflect that. Eventually, Ethan relented—with Casey involved, no one was surprised.

That cozy spot was where Casey, Ethan, and Jackie found themselves today as their workdays wound down. The faint hum of hospital activity provided a soothing background noise as their conversations turned to weekend plans. Ethan was attending a philharmonic concert, Jackie wanted nothing more than to catch up on sleep, and Casey couldn’t have been more excited to celebrate her third wedding anniversary.

“Three years already? How is that possible?” Jackie marveled.

“You made it to three years!” Ethan joked. “How is that possible?”

“Meh,” Casey smirked. “We have oodles of kinky sex and great communication – we’re set for life!”  

“Ugh,” Jackie groaned. “Did you have to bring the conversation there, Ethan?”

“Me?!” He protested. “Casey’s the one who turned this conversation.”

“Don’t act all puritanical, Dr. Ramsey!” Casey laughed. “My third wedding anniversary should bring back good memories for you, too.”

“This again?” Ethan moaned. “When are you going to let it go?”

 “As soon as you call her! You convincing Addie to go home with you once after my wedding is not enough to satiate me! You should know that! You two would be so good together.”

“Wait! Is that how he told you it happened!” Jackie jumped in. “I was there, and Addie was the one doing the seducing. Ramsey didn’t stand a chance.”

Ethan took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a one-time private thing. You all really have to move on.”

“Fine!” Casey sighed. “I’ll just go on representing the happily married contingent of the diagnostic team for the foreseeable future.”

Just then, Tobias entered the room, his larger-than-life presence immediately commanding attention.

“Is that my beautiful wife talking? If so, you represent that contingency very well, baby.” With effortless charisma, he leaned over Casey’s chair and placed a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Great. Now we’re subjected to these two,” Ethan grumbled as Jackie groaned in agreement.

“What?” Tobias grinned as he poured a cup of coffee. “We’re at work! I know how to contain myself, you know.”

The room went silent as three sets of eyes stared at him incredulously. “All right, all right,” he smirked. “I know how to dial it down... to a degree. But you can’t blame me,” he added, sitting beside Casey. “The honeymoon never ends with this one.”

“Why are you here so early?” Casey asked, politely steering the conversation. “Your shift doesn’t begin for another hour.

“Correct, but yours ends in fifteen minutes. I thought we could grab dinner together in the cafeteria before you head out. You know,” he said, looking pointedly at Ethan. “Because my boss is an asshole who keeps scheduling us on opposite shifts.”

“That’s not true!” Ethan defended. “I go out of my to....”

“Relax! Relax!” Tobias laughed. After all these years, he still knew how to push Ethan’s buttons. “I’m teasing. Honestly, you do a great job making sure Casey and I get time together, and I appreciate it.”

Casey’s expression grew momentarily serious as her eyes met Ethan’s with a knowing look, but if Tobias noticed, he didn’t let on.

“So what do you say, baby? Dinner?” he asked.

Casey looked at her watch and nodded. “I do have errands to run after work. But if we go right now, I can squeeze you in.”

“Oh, honey, you can’t say squeeze me in and....”

“STOP IT!” Jackie yelled, holding her ears, and the happy couple laughed as they walked down the hall.

They settled into a quiet corner of the cafeteria, two chicken potpies—one of the better offerings—steamed between them. Casey smiled warmly at Tobias and reached across the table to gently squeeze his hand. She was so happy to see him, but she knew they had to tell him some news.

“Tobias,” she began, her voice tinged with apprehension. “You know the research Ethan and I have been doing on the inequities in diagnosing women’s health conditions?”

“Of course,” he replied, digging into his food. “You’ve been passionate about it. I really believe that if you keep at it, you could help bridge that gap and make a real difference.”

“Well,” she said, a mix of pride and nervousness in her eyes, “Apparently, you’re not the only one who thinks so. The National Institutes of Health agrees, and they’ve offered us an enormous grant to continue our studies. They want us to create a blueprint and train others nationwide.”

His eyes widened in disbelief as he grabbed her hand. “Honey! That’s incredible! This is huge! I’m so, so proud of you!”

“Thank you, baby,” she said softly. “But... I’m not sure I’m going to participate. I told Ethan I needed some time to think about it.”

He looked at her, both shocked and concerned. “You... you what?”

“Tobias, it’s difficult enough for us to make time to be together now. If I take this on, it’ll be in addition to my regular work. It means long hours and a lot of travel; I don't know if it's a good idea.”  

“Hon, we’ll figure it out,” he said firmly. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime. You can’t turn it down. I won’t let you.”

Casey’s face twisted, her eyes filling with tears. “But we were talking about possibly starting a family soon,” she whispered. “This would put that on hold indefinitely.”

“Possibly,” He replied gently. “We didn't even decide for sure if we wanted kids.”

“But we were leaning that way.”

“And we still can,” he reassured her. “I’m the old one here, you’re not. If we have to delay it, so be it. But baby, you can’t pass this up opportunity.”

“You really wouldn't mind?” she asked, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation.

“Mind? Do you have any idea how much I'm going to brag about this?” he grinned. “I'm going to be incorrigible. What does your wife do? Oh, that’s cute. Let me tell you about my wife.” He slid his chair closer to hers and brushed a stray hair from her face before he gave her a playful kiss. “Not only is my wife gorgeous,” he kissed her again. “Not only is she hot as hell,” another kiss. “She’s brilliant, and she's going to change the world.” He pulled her closer, this time capturing her lips in a lingering kiss, deeper and more intense. “My wife,” he whispered, “is perfect in every way, and I’m so glad she’s mine.”

A lump formed in Casey’s throat as tears filled her eyes. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that I married you?”

“Yes,” he grinned. “But tell me again.”

“Have I told you how...” but Tobias silenced her by gently placing a finger over her lips.

“Not now,” he whispered. “Later, when I get home from work. In bed, naked... tell me then.”

“Hey, if that’s how you want me to tell you, I won’t just tell you... I’ll show you, too!”

“That’s the idea,” he smirked.

Casey hugged him, noticing the time on the clock over his shoulder. “Oh, shoot! I’m sorry, honey, but I have to go.”

“What's so important that you’re cutting our time short?” he asked, holding tight to her hand.

“I have anniversary plans to attend to,” she smiled as she cleared her place.

“But that’s not until Saturday?” He groaned. “Why do you have to go now?”

Casey gave him a knowing look. “I need to make sure my lingerie is in order,” she winked. "You wouldn't want to interfere with that."

“All right,” he sighed dramatically, making a show of dropping her hand. “Then go! Get out of here. Please, go!”

“Fine!” she giggled, picking up her tray.

“And remember,” he called after her, “the traditional gift for the third anniversary is leather. Feel free to add that to the mix.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as she walked away.

Tobias chuckled to himself as a resident glanced over, looking a bit horrified. “What?” Tobias grinned, unbothered. "One more trip to HR won’t kill me.... and she's worth it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Casey hustled out of Edenbrook and headed toward the South End neighborhood they called home, with a smile tugging at her lips. The whole “lingerie situation” was already under control —she’d taken care of that weeks ago. But she had another stop to make, the Beacon Gallery.

She’d commissioned a painting by an up-and-coming artist to give to Tobias as an anniversary gift, and he asked for her to stop by and see it before he finished the work. The piece was eclectic, blending hues of their favorite colors and incorporating elements and symbols representing key moments from their time together. The general viewer might not decipher its meaning, but Casey knew Tobias would take one look at it, and his heart would melt.

The way Casey spoke about Tobias and described the deep love they shared moved the artist to name the piece Eternal Love. Casey smiled at the sentiment, believing it perfectly captured their bond.

But the gallery's owner balked at the idea. “That’s tempting fate!” He insisted. “Why do anything to welcome bad luck.”

Casey brushed him off, replying with confidence. “We don't need luck. We make our own own.”

The evening was beautiful, so when she left the gallery, she decided to take the long way home, strolling through the familiar streets she knew and loved so well. She was headed toward their favorite bakery to pick up a few things for dinner, when something unexpected caught her eye—a new gallery, one she was certain they’d never visited before.

She tried to recall if Tobias ever mentioned a new gallery opening. She was certain he had taken her to every existing gallery in Boston and beyond, and she was confident this one was new.

With her curiosity piqued, she crossed the street and gazed into the window. The artwork displayed was stunning—vibrant colors, bold strokes, and intricate details that she knew Tobias would love. The gallery itself looked almost empty, as if it was still being set up, so she decided to step inside.

The scent of fresh paint and varnish greeted her, as did crisp white walls that made the few displayed pieces stand out even more. Several other pieces remained wrapped, leaned against each other and a few sculptures were scattered throughout.

An abstract painting in the back of the gallery caught her eye. Its swirling, contrasting shades of blues, pinks, ombre, white, and gold danced across the canvas, evoking images of the four seasons. There was something both calming and chaotic about it, and it resonated with her. She reached out, almost touching the canvas, when a voice broke the silence.

“Hello,” a woman’s voice echoed.

Casey turned to find a tall, slender woman headed her way. Her sea of dark curls streaked with golden highlights was piled on top of her head, with a few curls cascading down onto her flawless tawny skin. She was beautiful in a way that was almost surreal like a figure in a painting come to life. Her movements were fluid and graceful, and as her warm, dark eyes met Casey’s, she momentarily forgot how to speak.

“Oh!” Casey replied, taking a startled step backward. “I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize! I’ll come back when—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” the woman said with a melodic laugh. “I won’t make any friends in my new neighborhood if I shoo everyone away.” She wiped her hands on the paint-splattered apron tied around her waist and extended a hand. “I’m Diana. I'm an artist - and I own the gallery, too.”

Casey relaxed, taking the woman’s hand. “I’m Casey. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Is all this your work?”

Diana looked around the room with pride. “Most of it is, but not everything.” She nodded toward the painting Casey had been admiring. “Do you like that one? That is mine.”  

“I do,” Casey replied, eyes returning to the painting. “It’s beautiful and captivating. From one angle, it’s so calming, but from another, it feels chaotic. It’s like it symbolizes… life.”

Diana’s smile widened. “That’s exactly what I was going for. Not everyone sees it right away. Are you an artist yourself? Or a collector, perhaps?”

“Me?” Casey laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, no! When it comes to art appreciation, I’m a novice at best. My husband is the connoisseur in the family. He may be a doctor, but art is woven into his DNA. He’s spent the better part of the last six years trying to bring me up to speed, but I'm afraid I still feel like a fish out of water around it.”

“Well, you’ve got a great eye,” Diana smiled. “And I love that you’ve taken an interest in something so important to your husband. That’s very special.”

“Thank you,” Casey smiled. “Actually, I just came from the Beacon Gallery. Our anniversary is Saturday, and I commissioned a painting for him. But I’ve got to admit…” She glanced back at the abstract. “I think he’d like this one even more.”

“Well, I certainly won’t stop you from buying another piece,” Diana winked, and Casey couldn’t help but be charmed.

“So, you’re new to Boston?” Casey asked.

“Yes,” Diana replied. “I have other galleries; my largest is in LA, and I have a smaller one near my home in Colorado. But I’ve wanted to establish an East Coast presence for a long time now. I came to the SoWa Winter Festiva last year and fell in love. Do you know when you can just feel from that start that it's going to be a perfect fit?"

"I do," Casey grinned. "When will you be opening? I can’t wait to see the rest of your work.”

“I officially open in two weeks, but I’m hosting a grand opening party next Saturday. It’s by invitation only, but I’d love for you and your husband to join us.”

Casey’s eyes lit up. “Really? Oh my God, he’ll be thrilled! Our anniversary is this Saturday—that would make the perfect addition to my gift.”

“I love that,” Diana said, clapping her hands together. “How many years are you celebrating?”

“Three."

“Ah, leather,” Diana playfully winked. “I assume you’ve already taken care of the traditional gift?"

Casey burst out laughing. “You knew that too quickly—you must be married yourself.”

“I am, and I have a crystal anniversary coming up. Fifteen years next month.”

“Fifteen?" Casey was stunned. "Wow, what did you do? Get married at ten?”

 “I knew I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you, Casey," Diana chuckled. “But now, you're my best friend! I’m so glad you stopped by—you’re officially my first friend in my new town.”

“I consider that an honor,” Casey said, genuinely touched. Her eyes landed on a stack of brochures on a nearby table. “Mind if I take a few of these? I work at Edenbrook Hospital, and I could hand them out to some of my peers.”

“I've got a beautiful new friend, and she's helping me spread the word? This really is my lucky day,” Diana said, handing her a stack of brochures and two elegant invitations. “I really hope to see you both at the grand opening.”

“I wouldn't miss it!” Casey smiled, tucking the brochures and invitations into her bag. “And don’t be surprised if I stop by before then. I wouldn't mind another sneak peek."

“Please do!” Diana enthused. “I’d love the company, and you can tell me all the good places to go in the neighborhood. If I don't find a good iced matcha latte soon, I might lose my mind."

“Ah! I know just the place! I'll be sure to stop in if I see you here!"

Casey walked home with a sense of contentment. Her day had started with a bright opportunity and now, she felt like she found something special in that gallery... and in Diana. She couldn’t wait to tell Tobias all about it.

When she arrived home, she set the brochures on the kitchen counter, and her fingers brushed over the invitations as she thought about how much Tobias would love this surprise. It really was the perfect addition to her anniversary gift: a new place they could explore together and a night where they could dress up to boot! She already had the perfect dress in mind.

She carefully hid the invitations in a box toward the back of her closet, not far from the lingerie and a few leather items that would be making an appearance on Saturday, as well. The thought made her smile; she couldn’t wait to celebrate! As she glanced at the clock, she realized Tobias would be home in a few hours. She had so much to look forward to. As she stepped into the shower, allowing the steam and warm water to envelop her, she felt a peace that soothed her to her core. It had been a wonderful day filled with new opportunities, new connections, and the promise of even more to come. She was so fortunate, and she couldn’t wait for all that was ahead.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[the-night-that-feeds-if]

now im thinkin about the hunger and maddock getting along due to their mutual hatred for people who've hurt the mc and respect for the lengths the other would go to, to protect them owo

YES!!

It's perfectly in line with their personalities! It would start out as a grudging "I actually agree with it/him", uneasy alliance type vibe.

Especially because Maddock spent over a decade hunting things that came from the Void, like The Hunger.

The more I think, the more I am LOVING this ship.

[lethalchiralium]

Diamondback Masterlist

BASED OFF OF: Only The Brave (2017), What We Lost In The Fire by Troy Baker

PAIRING: ??? (To be determined) x F!Reader

SUMMARY: The heat was something else. With a heavy heart and nothing to lose, you’ve ditched your ex-fiancé to chase your childhood best friend across the country to a small town in a wildfire prone area of the United States - Pine, Arizona. It’s nestled in a valley and is where your best friend, Alex Keller, calls home. He’s following his passion, his dreams, and soon enough, you’re following it too; but the flames are getting too close and soon you’ll be in the line of fire of your best friend’s superintendent, John Price, and his assistant, Simon Riley.

CONTENT WARNINGS: MDNI 18+. Firefighter!AU, heavy topics discussed, smut in later chapters, love triangle or poly (you get to decide 🫶). Major character death mentioned, maskless!Simon Riley, mentions of cheating/pregnancy (not reader).

IMPORTANT TERMINOLOGY:

Interagency Hotshot Crews (IHC, also called Hotshots)

Specially trained firefighters that provide an organized, mobile, and skilled workforce for all phases of wildland fire management

Fire watch (Fire watcher, fire lookout)

A person assigned the duty to look for fire from atop a building known as a fire lookout tower. These towers are used in remote areas, normally on mountain tops with high elevation and a good view of the surrounding terrain, to spot smoke caused by a wildfire.

Prologue

Chapter One | Chasing Light

Pine, Arizona. You’ve touched down in Phoenix and driven up to a relatively normal sized city, more than ready to see your best friend and grossly underprepared for an interview you got twelve hours ago. It’s hard to tell if you’re ready, but now you have to be. It’s time to chase the light.

Chapter Two | The Memory Remains

…

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[dykepvppy]

OBSESSION — poly ghostface! Yellowjackets

(Ghostface!Van,Laura Lee,shauna,Jackie, tai,Lottie,Mari,Misty,nat) @jackieakgae

—

The killings have been getting worse were you lived.. you were scared for your safety even your friends thoes “ghostface” killings have been spreading like wildfire for the last month.. hoping this person was caught. School had started and you were with your group of friends known as the yellowjackets the soccer team for the school.

You decided to watch your friends practice since you didn’t have anything to do. Jackie saw you and waved at you running to you. “Hey (name) you watching us practice ?” The leader of the team spoke to you, taking hold of a drink from the bleachers. It was quiet for a few minutes as she spoke up again, “So me and the girls are wondering do you wanna go to a party with us”. You thought for a few minutes and nodded “sure”. Jackie smiled at you and put her bottle down “it's randys ill send you the address””

—

3 hours later, after the party ( I’m lazy wtf ) you got home worrying if someone was following you, but surely no one wasn’t following you. “What a da-“ The phone Cut you off by rining..who was it? . Slowly going to the phone your hands shaking quickly answering. “Hello” your breath was shakey. The heavy breather from the other phone is as loud and fast, before the unknown caller spoke.

“What’s your favorite scary movie”

Standing in the kitchen looking around, “…who is thi-“ the unknow caller cut you off “ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION”. Shocked by the aggressive caller you obeyed.. “my favorite is friday the 13th….”

Hearing the unknown killer laugh, “good choice, that movie is like a game of cat and mouse..”, they hung up fast.. You are scared of what's about to happen, Hearing glass break in the living room so you decided to check it out only to find two people with ghostface mask and robs standing there tilting their heads.

As you dropped your phone and ran, their footsteps getting heavier and louder chasing you through the house.. “come back here” one of them spoke holding the knife you didn’t know why and who they were, why you why would they want you

As soon you made it to one of the rooms you felt another pair of hands on you push you down to the floor, a group of ghostfaces appear behind the main two.

“Look at this slut. Your enjoying this huh” one of them(nat) spoke as she got close to you, her knife pressing up to your thighs. “Such a slut” the one of the ghostface (Lottie) went up to nat who was looking down at you, you were weak whimpering, your hair being pulled back by a third ghostface (Jackie) who was rubbing your body “a group a killers just wanting to use you like a toy you want that right”

The fourth ghostface(Mari) was recording without saying a word, she was loving this already, you being a helpless victim to the girls plan they didn’t want to kill you,

THEY WERE OBSESSED

THEY WANTED YOU

“Come on you love this” the fifth(Misty) and sixth(Laura Lee) ghostface walked up to you, you whimpered they smirked behind the mask as the seventh(van)and eighth(tai) their knifes was on your shirt their knifes coverd in blood, “your hearts beating, what if we had a strap on huh wanna choke and gag on our cocks”

The last ghostface (shauna) spoke her hands on you again and to your neck. Whimpering again, you were scared but you loved it, shauna behind the masked licked her lips at the sight of you being help less, ‘’maybe if we come back again, your gonna take all of us’’ she took another pic of you, the group left without another word only the photos they took so they can get off to it later. THEY WERE OBSESSED you were their obsession..

—-

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Fraud

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: Amycus Carrow wants to prove that you can walk. Warnings: Ableism, bullying Series Masterlist

The echo of your wheels against the stone floor is a steady rhythm in your ears, emphasising the silence that fills the vast corridors. It's a quiet day at Hogwarts; the castle's usual cacophony is subdued to a hushed murmur, almost peaceful.

You're humming a little tune under your breath, the melody weaving through your thoughts like a comforting friend. The Gryffindor common room waits for you at the end of this journey, a sanctuary filled with laughter and warmth. You can already see James' eyes lighting up as he recounts his latest Quidditch manoeuvre, Sirius' infectious laugh bouncing off the ancient walls, and Remus' soft smile as he listens, content.

But before you reach the familiar portrait of the Fat Lady, you sense a change in the air, a shift that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. A presence, unseen but palpable, looms behind you, the slow, deliberate footsteps growing louder.

You stop, your heart pounding against your ribcage, and look over your shoulder.

There, standing tall and menacing, is Amycus Carrow. He's a seventh-year Slytherin, known not for academic prowess or sporting achievement, but for the cruelty that seems to radiate from him like a dark aura. His eyes are cold, devoid of empathy, and his lips curl into a sneer that sends shivers down your spine.

"Well, well," he drawls, his voice slithering through the corridor like a serpent stalking its prey. "If it isn't the Gryffindor girl who plays the perfect damsel in distress."

His footsteps draw closer, deliberate and menacing, blocking your path to freedom. Your heart pounds in your chest, a rabbit caught in a snare. He shouldn't know this. Only the boys have seen you walk, and you trust them implicitly—they wouldn't betray you.

You keep your face smooth, knowing that any sign of fear will only fuel his sadistic pleasure. "Out of my way, Carrow."

He doesn't move. Instead, he steps closer, a dark cloud casting shadow over your world. His hand twitches at his side, and you notice the wand loosely held between his fingers. The air around him feels charged, like a storm ready to break. "I've been hearing rumours. Interesting ones. That our little Gryffindor here can stand up just fine. Walk, even."

You swallow hard, a knot forming in your stomach. "I don't know what you've heard, but it's none of your business."

Carrow's smirk widens, and he twirls his wand lazily between his fingers. "Oh, I think it is my business. I don't like liars or people pretending to be something they're not. So why don't we find out the truth?"

You grip the armrests of your wheelchair, feeling the tension build in your body. You've dealt with people like him before—those who don't understand or care about the complexities of disability and see it as something to challenge. But this feels different. More dangerous.

"Let's see what happens when I remove the chair from under you," Carrow proposes, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "Perhaps your legs will remember their purpose."

Suddenly, the sensation of being lifted from the ground fills your senses. It's not right. Your body is still, yet it feels as if invisible hands are tugging at your limbs, pulling you upward. Panic seizes you, and your fingers dig into the armrests, knuckles white with strain.

"Stop!" you shout, your voice echoing off the stone walls. "You have no idea what you're doing!"

"Oh, but I think I do," Carrow retorts, the corners of his mouth twisting into a cruel smile. "I'm testing the validity of your claim. We'll see if the 'crippled' Gryffindor is as helpless as she says."

The pressure increases, insistent, and you feel your body rise ever so slightly from the chair. Your legs dangle uselessly, a stark reminder of their betrayal. You will yourself to remain calm, to think, but fear is a wildfire, spreading through your veins, consuming all rational thought.

Then you hear it—a sound that pierces through your terror. Voices, familiar and strong.

"Put her down."

It's Sirius's voice, sharp as a blade, cutting through the haze of your fear. You twist your head towards the sound, and for a moment, your heart dares to hope. There, just steps away, stand James, Remus, and Sirius, their faces twisted in anger, their wands raised and ready.

Carrow seems taken aback by the sudden interruption, his grip on your arm faltering ever so slightly. But he recovers quickly, his sneer returning as he keeps his wand trained on you. He tilts his head, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Well, well, what have we here? The brave Gryffindors come to play? I was just seeing if your little pet here is as helpless as she seems."

James is the first to move, stepping forward. His face is a mask of fury, but his voice remains steady, laced with an authority that belies his age. "Put her down, Carrow. Now."

Sirius follows suit, wand already drawn, pointed directly at the older boy. The threat in his eyes is as palpable as the magic crackling at his fingertips. "Touch her again, and you won't be walking for a long time."

Carrow's wand wavers ever so slightly, the beginnings of uncertainty creeping into the edges of his resolve. He glances from James to Sirius, then back to you, clearly weighing the risks of pressing on.

Then Remus steps up, placing himself between you and Carrow, his usual calm demeanour hardened by the situation unfolding before them. His voice cuts through the tense silence, carrying a note of danger seldom heard from the quiet Marauder. "If you want to hurt her, you'll have to get through us first."

Carrow's eyes flicker between the three of them, his grip on his wand flexing. There's a change in him, a falter that speaks more of caution than bravado. He's outnumbered, outflanked by their united front.

Before of your floating form, they stand like sentinels, each bristling with an energy that pulsates through the room. Their faces are masks of determination, hard lines and narrowed eyes speaking volumes of their readiness to defend. The air shimmers with tension, and for a moment, it seems that Carrow might push back against the tide rising against him.

Then, abruptly, the levitation spell is released, and you're falling. A gasp escapes your lips as you land heavily back in your chair, jarring your already bruised body. Carrow's wand lowers, the sneer on his face deepening into something even more unpleasant.

"Very well," he says, his voice dripping with disdain. "Keep your secrets for now. But don't think the others won't start asking questions about what you're hiding."

James steps forward, wand raised higher, his stance unyielding. There's a new hardness in his eyes, a promise of action should Carrow overstep his bounds. "Leave, Carrow. Before I make you."

Carrow's lip curls into a sneer, but he remains silent, weighing his options. He casts one last glance at you, a look that speaks volumes of unfinished business, before turning on his heel and marching down the corridor. His footsteps echo off the stone walls, a fading reminder of the threat he poses.

As soon as Carrow is out of sight, you release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, fingers still clenching the armrests with white-knuckled force. The boys are instantly at your side—Sirius drops to his knees in front of you, hands resting lightly on your own, while James and Remus hover nearby, their concern etched into every line of their tense bodies.

"Are you all right?" Sirius's inquiry is softer now, though the anger hasn't entirely left his voice.

You give a small nod, even as your pulse continues to race. "Yes, I'm fine. He didn't... he didn't harm me."

James's fingers tighten around yours, offering silent reassurance. "We should've hexed him on the spot. The nerve of him—"

A pause hangs in the air, long and heavy, before Remus speaks again. His hand remains steady on your shoulder, but there's a flicker behind his normally calm eyes—a hint of the storm raging beneath the surface. "If he so much as looks at you wrong, we'll deal with him."

"I could have handled it," you insist, your voice barely above a whisper. You force a smile, but it wavers, unconvincing. "I just didn't want to... escalate things."

Sirius shakes his head, his hands still resting on your shoulders as if to shield you from the world outside this quiet corner. "You shouldn't be dealing with this alone, Y/N," he says, voice rough with unspoken emotion. "We're here. We've got your back, always."

James leans forward, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment—a silent promise of solidarity. His breath is warm and steady against your skin, a stark contrast to the chill that has settled in your bones. "No one has the right to treat you like that," he whispers fervently, his words laced with an anger not directed at you, but fiercely protective of you. "Especially not some bloody Slytherin."

Your lip worries between your teeth, and you glance at the three men who have formed a protective barrier around you. In their eyes, you see not only concern but also a fierce determination to keep you safe. "I didn't think it would be this bad," you admit, voice barely a whisper. "I didn't tell anyone I could walk."

Remus's gaze softens even as his brow furrows deeper. "We didn't breathe a word of it either," he assures you, his tone gentle yet firm. "Carrow must have suspected or deduced it on his own. It doesn't matter now. He won't get another chance to harm you."

Sirius rises from his chair, crossing the room in long strides until he stands before you. His hand lifts, hovering for a moment before finally settling on your cheek—a touch as light as a feather yet grounding in its familiarity. "You don't owe anyone an explanation," he says, his voice a low rumble that reverberates with the promise of protection. "Especially not him."

A lump forms in your throat, but you manage to choke out a response. "I just... I didn't want anyone to think I was pretending."

James's lips press against the top of your head, his voice a low rumble that resonates with the steadiness you've come to associate with him. "No one who matters would think that. You're not pretending. You're just being you, and that's all we could ever ask for."

Sirius nods, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder, a silent pledge of solidarity. Remus continues to rub soothing circles into your back, his touch a grounding presence amid the tempest of your thoughts.

They are here—standing guard, standing with you, ready to face whatever may come. With them, you know you won't have to face it alone.

[y2sims]

Seven Marko Hairs in The New Hair System.

colors by pooklet.

binned, familied, tooltipped and compressed.

all four colors are in one .package file.

the meshes are included.

Marko - Daydream

ages tf to ef

1.7k~ polys

i used deedee's retexture as a base and mixed it with remi's straight

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Long Glamorous Side Wave - Executables edit

ages cf to ef

986 polys

mesh fix, age conversions + textures by @executables-sims

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Long Voluminous Side Part - Executables edit

ages cf to ef

1.5k~ polys

mesh fix, age conversions + textures also by executables-sims

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Messy Times

(another angle)

all ages

alpha edited + textured by @profesionalpartyguest (i just blended the textures a bit)

uses ea’s wildfire textures

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Money Maker

ages tf to ef

i used ppg's retexture, which is actually gryning's retexture of devil's haircut and mixed it with remi's straight 😂

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Sunday Morning

ages tf to ef

texture is the same as above

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

Marko - Punkish / Gothic Girl aka Gothic Pigtails

ages cf to ef

this is the no bangs version, i grabbed the alpha from profesionalpartyguest

another version with bangs can be found from dreadpirate's bulk upload, here

for the tails i mixed remi's straight and poppet's wavy, and the scalp texture, i believe, was from roguebotanist's retexture

DOWNLOAD: sfs // mf

[charmercharm3r]

Phases

Phase Two: Wildfire

LMH, HJS

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

wc: 7.1k

Story Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung (minho chapter focus), service top!minho x switchfem!reader, mxm, a bit angsty but its alright, unprotected but clean piv, oral (f receiving), lil bit of ass play/anal, morning sex, marking, cream pie, so sweet my teeth hurt

Phase One ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Two ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Phase Three

A/N: this site hates me and likes to delete parts of my story, so there will be minor errors but it shouldn’t be too bad. just please bear with me ://

Has Minho ever been affectionate? No, never of his own accord. Did that stop you from expressing your own affection? Never. He’d never admit it, to you or to Jisung, but he secretly loved when you’d persist even after he shrugged you away, it made him feel wanted. That’s all he’s felt since finding you, and Minho’s amazed he even managed to do that.

Until he met Jisung, he’d never had the easiest time making friends, let alone dating. He had almost an instant realization that he’d found some life long companions, but that also came with the territory of having to actively keep the friendship alive knowing full well that talking isn’t one of his strong suits. Jisung was friends with everyone, his introvertedness came unraveled whenever someone of a slightly larger personality came around to bring it out of him, so becoming close with the other boy was rather simple. You, on the other hand, he had no idea where to even begin to approach. Which, when he thinks back on now, seemed so silly. You had taken him in with open arms and he felt right at home, and it scared Minho beyond belief. 

Meeting the two of you was the only thing Minho seemed to be able to gage some control on. The only reason he gained the confidence to ask Jisung on their first date was because he’d caught Minho one day by dropping by his place unexpectedly, the younger was never really aware of personal space. He had burst through the closed door of Minho’s bedroom to catch him in the aftermath of cleaning a vibrant purple dildo. Neither of them had spoken for a few minutes, just staring at one another until Minho asked if Jisung wanted to get take out for dinner.

It wasn’t an explicit date, but the both of them knew.

Everything important to him has come to life because of horrible, horrible timing. First with Jisung, then with you, and Minho has never felt his life to be so out of control until now. When you’d caught him and Jisung kissing that night, it was like a little piece of him broke apart seeing the look on your face. He didn’t want things to go the way they did, and he hated himself for reacting so badly. But how was he supposed to tell you that he felt like his life was downward spiraling and you seeing him making out with your best friend was the cherry on top?

The two days he went without seeing you were like hell. Literal hell. He even called out sick at work because he couldn’t leave his house without fighting the urge to go to yours. Minho knew that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t want you showing up at his door and prying into his feelings that even he was struggling to understand. No matter how hard he tried to vocalize what his emotions were to Jisung, it only came out as jumbled words and mixed noises that made no sense to either of them.

Given the circumstances, maybe he should’ve tried a little harder to reach out to you. But that little part inside him told him that if he pushed you too far, you'd run away. For that reason, he let Jisung do the talking first, and it seemed to have worked.

When you finally picked up his call, Minho felt tears sting in his eyes when he heard your voice. Then you told him you loved him, and Jisung told him he loved him, and even though it wasn’t the first time you’d said it, through the phone he could feel that you meant it.

Seeing you and knowing that you knew, but unable to get himself to speak about you three’s relationship was suffocating Minho, almost as much as it was you. Jisung encouraged him to no end to talk about it with you and every time you came over he swore to himself that he would. And then he didn’t.

To be fair, it had only been two weeks since the incident at Changbin’s party, but in that time you’d made an effort to come over every day, even if it was just to have dinner. He was well aware of what was happening behind closed doors with you and Jisung, even got off to the thought of it on more than one occasion. Him and Jisung had uncountable shared moments like that, it was easy to picture himself watching the two of you together and the things he might say. But imagining you, he had to get a little creative. Were you subby, like him? Did you whine and whimper at the nasty things Jisung says and get weak in the knees if he so much as looked at you with those eyes? Minho always thought you were the same as him and would do anything to please, so that’s how he’d fantasize about you, on your knees with your eyes big and pleading for something to stuff your mouth, Jisung towering above you and calling you all kinds of names and spewing whatever lewd things he could think of to get you even more wound up.

He’d cum hard when he thought too deeply about it, pushing himself to the verge of calling Jisung over at 2 a.m. because he couldn’t satisfy himself the way he did. The not so recent addition of you in his fantasies made it all the worse, especially now that the things he thought of may be true.

On the verge of sexual and, even moreso, emotional combustion, Minho decided that it was time. He had the entire date plotted in his head down to the very minute. He blames you a little for his sudden eagerness, the last time you and Jisung were over he caught a glimpse of the now faded red streaks that lined down the younger’s chest and immediately knew what it was from.

Jisung had helped him a little bit before he decided to go through with his plan, at least he thought he was helping. If anything, his presence was making Minho all the more nervous because of how badly he didn’t want to fuck anything up. 

“Babe, everything will go great. Do you want me to hang around in the shadows in case you need emotional support?” The younger handed Minho his nice white dress shirt and watched as he changed.

“What if she says no?” Minho was concentrating too hard, unable to even button up his shirt with his shaky hands.

Jisung moved to help him, calm him with the gentle skin on skin as he finished the buttons and adjusted the collar, “she won’t say no. She loves you too much.” He planted a quick kiss on Minho’s lips. As much as he enjoys kissing him, it did little to ease the churning in his stomach.

It was late in the afternoon when he came to your place to pick you up. Minho had hesitated to knock on your door, fidgeting with the bouquet of flowers he picked out and recalling all the things in his picnic basket. Just as he raised his fist, the door swung open and he caught a whiff of your sweet, floral perfume. Minho almost folded right then and there, light from the window surrounding your figure like the gates of heaven.

“Do you always wait outside for fifteen minutes before coming in?” You joked so easily and tugged him inside by the arm. He took a second to look you up and down, admire your pretty dress and take in the sight of you getting dolled up just for him. “You’re staring,” you said, taking the basket from his hands and setting it on the floor.

“I am,” he confirmed, still not looking away.

The giggle you let out made his lip curl slightly and stick out the bouquet for you to take. Of course you did with a gracious smile and took them into the kitchen to place in a vase, “let me get my shoes.” You ran through the house to grab what you needed and pondered taking a coverup or not, “will it be cold?”

“If it is, I have my jacket for you,” Minho called back, silently patting himself down to make sure he was actually wearing one. He was, a beige cardigan that would look perfectly oversized on you. Taking another second to spray a little cologne, Minho took a peak at himself in a nearby mirror just as you walked back out, ready to go.

“You look pretty,” you say as you walk up behind him, placing a gentle hand on his arm to get him to face you. Minho felt his ears heat up at the compliment, smiling in acknowledgement. Warmth took over his skin when you reached up to fix the chain adorning his neck, feeling your fingertips grazing the nape to move the clasp to the back. As you finished, you ran your hands down his chest slowly, and Minho would’ve fallen to his knees right then and there. Without moving, you look up at him innocently, “what are we doing today?”

Bravely he took your hands in his and intertwined your fingers. “I was thinking about a late picnic? Take a walk along the river and just… be together?”

“Sounds perfect.” Without a second thought, you stand on your tippy toes and place your lips to his cheek so nonchalantly. It was effortless on your part whereas Minho could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He found himself touching the part of his cheek where you had kissed him, lingering there and blushing just that much more until you called his name and led him outside.

And everything was going perfect, the weather was perfect, found the perfect picnic spot, had a perfect late lunch, Minho was nowhere near as nervous as he was just a few hours ago. Banter between the two of you was normal, commenting about anything and everything, neither of you could stop yourselves from talking about Jisung as well, you both laughed over his need to constantly be touching one of you. Because things were going so well, he couldn’t help but mess it all up by asking one simple question, “are you and Jisung dating?”

He asked it with a smile on his face and laughter in his voice but Minho could see you hesitate to answer despite your kind expression. You observed him backtrack upon saying the words out loud and could practically hear the glass shattering in his head. To ease him as much as possible, you took his hand and played with his fingers. “I think so. I guess it depends on you.”

You felt him tense with just his palm in yours, seeing his shoulders pull back and eyes fall towards your thumb running along his,  “what do you mean?” His breathing sped up a little as did his heart rate.

Here was the downward spiral once again, and he doesn’t even know why when he was the one that asked the question. Minho didn’t mean for it to come up so early and suddenly in the date, but he couldn’t help his own curiosity at the expense of his emotional state. His hand trembled in yours, you could feel it no matter how much he tried to hold steady. You took the opportunity to cup your free hand over his to hold tightly, “walk with me.” You didn’t wait for him to respond to lift him off the picnic blanket and lead him towards the river. Minho threw a look over his shoulder at the set up. “We’ll come back for it, don’t worry.”

Minho went with you hand in hand, still shaking in your palm but not as much as the cool breeze soothed his overheating skin. You held his hand tighter, squeezing in reassurance that he didn’t need to say anything, but would be there to listen if he wanted to. There was nowhere in particular you were leading him, leisurely walking as close to the river as possible because he loved to watch the windy waves.

You watched him intently for any signs that he was uncomfortable knowing he wouldn’t say if he truly was. Minho never talked much about his past relationships, the only reason you knew anything was when he’d mention something in passing, but you assumed the worst. He caught the way you were looking at him, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you smiled up at him, sympathetic.

“I am. I just… can’t tell you why.” Minho squeezed your hand a little tighter.

You squeezed harder, “you don’t have to.”

“It’s just,” he pulled the two of you over to sit at a bench overlooking the river. It was slightly colder now that the sun was setting, the small shiver that ran through you was enough for Minho to take off his cardigan and drape it over your shoulders, already warm. “I don’t know how to explain it without sounding insane.”

“Have you met Jisung?” The two of you giggled again at the mention of your other partner.

“He’s confidently insane, it’s a big difference.”

Tilting your head, “then what are you?”

Minho pondered for a second, looking at the water then back to you. “Insanely anxious.”

“Really? I pegged you for a chaotic neutral.” When you nudged his shoulder with yours, Minho’s cheeks flushed at the sorely specific term.

A certain bright purple image flashed in his mind, “d– did Jisung tell you?”

You raised an eyebrow, “tell me what?”

“Nothing. Nevermind,” he deflected quickly.

“But really, Min,” you brought his attention back up to your eyes with your finger guiding his chin up. “Your mind doesn’t scare me.”

“It scares me.” It came out as a pleading sob, voice cracking slightly as he opened your hand to lay his cheek into. The action itself felt more rewarding than getting him to speak. The split second where he looked at you with big, round eyes, lips pouting trying to find how to put into words what was happening in his head, no sense of his emotions because they were just so big that no words could do it justice. You knew. “I love you a lot, and it scares me,” he whispered.

The smile that plastered across your face was almost criminal for how deep the conversation was. “If you keep looking at me I might cry,” he admitted but was reluctant to let go of your hand.

“I can look away if you’d like.” Minho nodded and you looked out at the river, “the sunset is pretty.”

“Jisung makes it so easy not to think. He makes me feel stupid in so many ways, it’s humbling and freeing at the same time. I appreciate him and adore him and I forget to show him that sometimes.” You resisted the urge to look at him, catching yourself before you could fully turn your head.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, “I wonder if the water is cold.”

“I forget to show you, too, and I’m sorry. I don’t understand anything going on inside my head or anything I’m feeling, but I love you.” Minho kissed the inside of your palm and snaked it back to thread through his hair. Staring blankly ahead, solely focused on his voice and his words and his hair between your fingers, your lips curled into a gentle smile. “Jisung doesn’t need to understand me– I mean, he does, but in a way where he doesn’t have to understand every miniscule bit, and he still loves me. You understand everything– the good, the ugly, every dark and twisty, scary corner and you still love me. I met Jisung and there was this, like, stupid flame he lit with his annoying smile. Then I met you and it spread like a fucking wildfire and now, I can’t get out. I don’t ever wanna get out. I hate myself for how you found out, it feels fucking criminal that we did that to you and it was so unfair. You and him… my everythings. And I’ll spend however long I need to to show you that you are. Let the fire consume me until there’s nothing left.”

“That sounds painful,” you finally faced him to find his chest heaving up and down, already staring straight at you.

“It is,” Minho whispered back.

“Can I kiss it better?” Your body moved on its own, turning towards him and scooting closer so your knees brushed his.

“Kiss the pain away?”

“Kiss the pain away.”

Minho nodded, with the hand that held yours in his hair, he grazed down your arm to softly pull you in even closer, almost chest to chest but not quite. A slight tug on his roots and Minho came in to press his lips to yours, chaste, supple, so sincere in the way he kissed you. Only closed lip kisses, but still so satisfying. He felt pillowy and warm and you could taste the lingering minty chapstick he applied earlier. There was the clean smell of the river water swirling around to mix with his natural musky, cottony scent to the point that it made you dizzy. Was it only a few seconds, a few minutes, or a few hours the two of you kissed like this? It didn’t matter. You wanted more as soon as he pulled away.

He pecked your cheek and brought you into a bone crushing embrace, tucking himself away into your neck. You were taken aback for a moment, but melted into the hug anyway to feel Minho relaxing just the same. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“Something you don’t already know?” Minho’s chuckle rumbled against your chest.

“Do you like girls?”

Pulling away, the weight on his shoulders seemed to have shrunk based on how he raised his eyebrow at you. “Don’t ask me stupid questions,” and he crashed his lips to yours again.

Entering his apartment hand in hand felt right, it made sense to follow behind him as he kicked off his shoes and throw his keys on the nearby table, watch as he unloaded the picnic basket and leisurely walk around the house to do his mundane chores.

You smiled fondly as you watched him, eventually following him further into the house. The dress you were wearing was growing uncomfortable, having been wearing it all day. “Babe, can I borrow some clothes?” You called out mindlessly.

You couldn’t see it, but Minho shot you a happily surprised look as you entered his bedroom. “Of course.”

His room was always rather neat, everything having its place so it was easy to find a spare shirt and pair of shorts to change into. Then the sound of the toilet flushing and sink running from the ensuite bathroom made you jump, only to reveal a very homey looking Jisung emerging from it. “Oh! You’re back!” He greeted as you slung Minho’s shirt over your head, trotting over and planting a kiss on your lips.

Jisung was oddly normal about seeing you in Minho’s clothes, walking towards the door until he abruptly stopped and turned to do a double take, his eyes following his smile. “It went well?”

“It went great,” Minho appeared behind him, leaning against the doorframe. Jisung peered back at him over his shoulder, having to look up to meet his eyes. The younger one smiled and stood on his tippy toes to give Minho a casual peck.

You felt warm watching them, like your heart was on fire and it was coursing through your veins, a much different reaction to the first time you’d seen them kiss. A part of you wanted to cry with how happy you were, it was almost overwhelming. If it had been anyone else you probably would’ve on the spot. But it wasn’t just anyone. Minho and Jisung are your people. Your people, and they made you theirs as well. So maybe you let the ache in your waterline loose just a little and sniffled back the minor leak in your emotions, which made Jisung skip back over to you.

“Another one for you, too,” he gleamed and kissed you gently. “Did you guys bring back any food?”

“There’s leftovers on the counter,” Minho followed Jisung out of the room, leaving you for the time being.

It felt like the day had gone by all too quickly and you were exhausted. Not in a physical way, moreso emotional and feeling the effects now as you laid back onto the middle of Minho’s bed and stared at the ceiling. Comfortable it was to listen to their idle chatter in the background, so much so that you found yourself closing your eyes still on top of the covers, letting their voices lull you to sleep.

“Listen… She’s snoring,” Jisung held his finger up and hopped onto the counter to sit.

“Let her. I kinda dropped some heavy bombs on her today. And why can neither of you sit on the chairs like normal people? I bought them for a reason.”

The blonde took a bite of the picnic snacks, “like what? That you like it in the ass?”

“No! But… isn’t that implied?” Jisung shrugged, stuffing his mouth again. “It didn’t come out the way I wanted it to, but we got there eventually.”

“Really! So can we all fuck now?” He caught Minho by the neck as he passed by, trapping him between his legs and slinging his arms over his shoulders.

Minho rolled his eyes, “is that all you ever think about?”

“Fucking both of my scrumptious, beautiful, sexy ass partners? Absolutely, I think about it all the time.” He emphasized his point by grabbing his ass, smiling deviously.

Groaning, Minho leaned into Jisung’s arms, “just hug me for now. We can fuck later.” Jisung giggled and held him tighter, whispering an, “okay.”

As much as he wanted to stay, Jisung had to leave just a little before midnight, stranding Minho alone with his thoughts once again. Except he wasn’t upset about it. Actually, he was enjoying having you here, even if you weren’t conscious, he just liked having another body in the house. By now, the chores were done, he washed his face, and changed into his pajamas and still had downtime to just sit and watch you. It was a lot less creepy in his head, but he loved how cute you were when you were asleep, mesmerized. Laying on his side next to you, he refrained from touching so as not to wake you, but failed when you stirred and turned your face towards him. A stray strand of hair fell over your eyes, how uncomfortable that must’ve been, Minho found himself pushing it away and you were fluttering awake beneath his touch.

Groggily you blinked into consciousness, straining a little to look up at him, “what time is it?”

“Thirty past midnight,” Minho whispered back, fully threading his fingers through your hair now.

You didn’t move, just staring into his eyes and enjoying the light skinship. It was a rare thing to get from him, even before. You wonder if he didn’t because of the friendship line, or if he just isn’t keen on initiating it, you have all the time in the world to find out now.

“I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Mhm.”

Wordlessly, he stood and lifted you just a little off the bed to make room for himself, managing to get you beneath the covers. You could hear his soft breathing and make out the handsome features of his face in the dim moonlight illuminating his room. The two of you faced each other now, heads in the pillows and hands loosely intertwined. “Are you tired?” You asked him quietly, seeing his eyes blinking slowly.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“What are you thinking about?” Voices hushed, Minho untangled his fingers and brought them up to cup your jaw, thumb just barely grazing over the plush of your lips.

He let out a deep breath, “kissing you.” You lean in to give him another soft smooch, feeling tingly all over as you did.

“Now what are you thinking about?”

The enamored, lazy grin on his face was endearing, “you kissing Ji.”

Giggling, “I think about you kissing Ji, too.”

“We should get a bigger bed.”

“Can I bring my own blanket? You two are blanket hoggers.”

“What?!”

“Why do you think I sit on the end of the couch during movie nights?”

He was silently blinking at you, “...I need some space.” Minho rolled onto his back just to stare upwards, the comforter hooking around his legs to tug and leave your backside exposed. You knew he wasn’t being serious as he blindly reached for your hand to hold but let out an ironic laugh as you pulled the edge to prove your point. He adjusted himself and the blanket came loose again.

His side profile, even in the dull light, was beautiful. You let go of his hand to trace the outline of his nose with the tip of your finger, drawing all the way down to his plump lips then down his chin and neck to splay your hand across his chest. Minho looked like he was deep in thought, or his head could’ve been completely empty, both options were very possible but you hoped for the latter.

Wordlessly you moved under the blanket closer and threw your leg over his torso to straddle him, taking the comforter with you as you sat up. Minho didn’t say anything but rather raise an eyebrow and lay his hands on your thighs, loosely massaging up and down the muscle. With a sigh, you tilted your head down at him, pushing his bangs from his forehead and caressing his cheek. “So curious,” you whispered.

A small hum left his lips as you smoothed the furrow in his brow with your thumb. “Why are you frowning, pretty kitty?”

Immediately his face relaxed just to morph into a surprised state of confusion, eyes widening and twinkling while trying to read your expression. “How did you–”

“Our baby’s mouth isn’t the only thing that’s big.” Slowly you wiggled your hips backwards to sit on his crotch, growing harder by the second. The grip his hands had on your thighs tightened as though he was holding back, which was proving to be more difficult for both of you. “He talks a lot, but you already know that.” Minho accepted your kiss gratefully, sliding his hands up to your ass as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss when feeling you slip your tongue into his mouth, not fighting or battling but rather looking for  a reaction. The lack of one is what made you pull away prematurely. Reattaching to the skin of his neck, “you don’t have to hold back with me, sweetheart.”

His body shivered and nails dug into your ass through the material of the borrowed shorts. Just barely did Minho cant his hips up to grind his erection into you, though almost instantly he let himself fall back to the bed. You followed, sitting onto him with your full weight and languidly moving back and forth while you continued to bite down his neck. “C’mon, pretty kitty. What do you want? Wanna be taken care of?”

Minho shook his head, no. “Wanna stop?” Another no. “Wanna use me?”

Oh, his ears perked up at that. “Y– you’d let me?”

“Only if you keep it our little secret, or we’ll both get punished.” You sat back to tug the shirt over your head, suddenly thankful that you’d changed earlier because the way Minho was staring at your breasts was a sight you’d never forget. He hesitated to let his hands climb higher until you took them and cupped them over your boobs, “use me. Just this once.” You gave him a wink, a signal that tempted him into groping you, tweaking your nipples before the excitement overtook him and flipped you onto your back.

His shirt came off in a split second and he was ravaging your lips again, not giving either of you a moment to breathe. Spit and saliva would’ve been dripping down your face if not for his desire to practically swallow you. Not that you would’ve minded either outcome, you couldn’t get enough. When Jisung said he’d trained Minho, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Seeing the older now you understood, he was on a tight, tight leash.

Hands were everywhere, in his hair, on your ass, scratching down his back, tugging at your shorts. Minho finally pulled away just to leave a trail of wetness down your chest. He handled you on the rougher side as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, teething and bruisingly groping the other like he was touch starved. It was like he didn’t know where he wanted to be, just that he wanted every part of you in his mouth because when he was finished with your boobs, Minho suctioned each inch of the skin of your torso and stomach to leave deepening red spots wherever he could.

Coming to the hem of your (his) shorts, it was all but ripped from your body along with your underwear, you swore you heard the fabric tear. It didn’t deter him, Minho continued his rampage down your legs and inside your thighs. His eyes somehow grew even wider upon seeing your cunt, wet and dripping, but didn’t make a move to touch you there. Even with your hands in his hair guiding him, Minho stopped and looked up at you, “can I?”

“Please,” you were almost whining even if there was no need for you to. He had all the power in the world now, and you didn’t need to beg for a single thing. He was more than excited to give you whatever you wanted.

Forget a man stuck in the desert without water, this was a whole new level of eagerness that words couldn’t do justice. To describe his enthusiasm would’ve required rewriting the entire english dictionary, which would’ve taken a lot more time than you had considering how skillful Minho was with his tongue and plump lips continuously stimulating your clit. He was moaning into your nerves and sending vibrations rippling through you, the addition of his fingers was your written demise, sending you over the edge in record time. Maybe it was because of how emotionally attached you felt towards him that made cumming so easy to accomplish. You’d always heard that sex with someone you love is an entirely different ball game, and whoever said that deserves to come as hard as he made you just now, every day of their life.

You wanted to return the favor, almost immediately trying to sit up as soon as you were able to recover enough, but Minho clambered over your body to keep you down.

“Let me do everything, please. Wanna make you feel good.” He begged, hiking your knees around his hips to keep you close.

“Awe, our Ji must never let you have your fun, hm? You already made me feel so good, kitty. Can’t I help you now?”

“No, no,” you tasted yourself on his tongue as he pressed a deep kiss to your lips, sending a shock of arousal down to your core again. “Can’t wait that long. Can I have you? Please.”

“Okay, sweetheart. How do you want me?”

Only a guttural groan from within his chest resounded through the room when you gave permission. Taking one leg from his side, he flipped you onto your belly with ease and planted more teethy kisses down your spine. He cupped your ass with both hands and bit harder into the flesh there, on the verge of breaking skin but it felt too good, you couldn’t even be mad. But, perhaps Jisung would be, his plaything marking you up like this and claiming you as his own. That was a worry for later.

It was getting harder to focus as Minho’s tongue roamed closer and closer to your core again. With his big hands, he spread your ass cheeks wide, licking your cunt from behind and burying his face between. He took a little extra time to trace the outline of your clit and draw upwards towards your asshole, hardly grazing the rim and making you shudder and a shot of heat pool in your belly again. The goosebumps along your skin made him chuckle and press a bit harder for more of a reaction, and when you moaned, he pulled away.

You’d never been touched like that, let alone licked. It was new and strange but so comfortable with him, knowing exactly how to touch you and just how to get you to melt. You almost stopped his fingers from entering your cunt again just to ask how the hell he did that because fuck, you wanted him to do it again.

But Minho moved on, circling his fingers at your wet hole to simply play with you, listening intently to the way your walls squelched and sucked him in. He seemed to have a fascination with your pussy, like he was entranced by a spell that couldn’t stop him from staring.

“Use your freedom while you have it, pretty kitty,” you snapped his attention back to the throbbing in his lower half and he almost cried at how hard his cock throbbed.

Placing a kiss and a lick to your pussy, Minho sat up and pushed your legs together, fisting his dick slowly to take in the sight of you. Looking over your shoulder as best as you could to see him, but his hand was planted in the middle of your back and pinching your skin lightly whenever you tried to get a better look. You were so easily controlled this way, nowhere to run and no way to see what was coming.

Spreading your ass again, Minho let the tip of his cock only prod at your asshole to see what would happen. You shivered and whimpered at the foreign sensation, but mewled louder when he traversed down to press at your cunt, bluntly pushing forward so slowly that you felt every inch of his cock stretching you so wonderfully. He felt different from Jisung, but just as good. While Jisung had length on his side, Minho had girth, it was hard to keep your cunt from clenching as you took him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck– oh god,” he muttered, “baby was right. So fucking tight.”

“Ah– easy, sweetheart.” You dug your hands into the mattress and gripped the sheets.

Minho sat up straight and adjusted his posture, knees on either side of your hips and using your ass as leverage to thrust shallowly, experimentally. A high pitched whine left him while a muffled cry came from you. It didn’t take long for him to find a slow but steady pace, knowing he’d blow early if he went too fast. But it only made you want to tease all the more.

“Such a big cock. Don’t know how to use it, do you kitty?”

“I– I do!” He pleaded.

“Show me, then. Please me.”

His hands moved to plant next to your head and his chest pressing against your back, trapping you. Wide spread his legs, full body weight in his hips, Minho pulled out further and slammed back into you. The clap of skin on skin was encouraging, as was the moan you let out. And he’d lost all resolve after that, letting gravity do the work to rock you into the bed with every stroke, both your bodies practically bouncing with how hard he pounded. The slapping sounds bounced off the walls, out the open windows and you had to say, you were proud of how pretty he sounded. You were building another high just listening to him, but could tell he was ready to blow.

You demanded he pick up the pace, “louder, kitty. Cry for me louder.”

He did, no longer holding back any noise that wanted to fall from his lips. As he lost the reins on his self control, Minho started growing sloppy, murmuring about how sweet you felt, how perfect you felt snug around his cock. “Gonna cum, fuck, so close–”

“Hold it. Wanna cum with you,” you called behind you as best as you could, even with the motions making your voice bounce. Minho understood, keeping rhythm as he sat back again on his hunches to use the strength of his thighs to continue moving. He elevated your hips just enough to change the angle, letting him slip somehow deeper and kiss your cervix so deliciously.

He was getting impatient, thrusts growing shallow as he got closer to his high. Despite not truly following orders, his neediness was helping you along to your own, the repeated quick prods to your sensitive spots was teetering you on the edge, crying his name when he hit it exceptionally good and made the bubble in your gut burst to suffocate you in blissful warmth. You knew he was still using you to achieve his orgasm, it only prolonged yours to milk him to completion.

Minho collapsed on top of you not even a minute later and didn’t move, keeping your hole plugged and soiled. It took more than a while for the both of you to regain your breaths, your arms spread across the mattress and Minho tracing mindless patterns along them. “I can hear your heartbeat,” he whispered.

“I can feel yours,” you whispered back.

He rolled over eventually, taking you with him to lay on your sides spooning, sweaty and sticky but fulfilled in more ways than one. His leg thrown over your hip, you held his hands to your chest tightly, feeling enveloped in warmth as Minho planted gentle kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder.

“Can’t wait to do that again in the morning.” Your admittance made him laugh and kiss your cheek. 

Minho snuggled in closer, “can’t wait to wake up to you every morning.”

You’d spoken it into existence and went another round as soon as the two of you were coherent enough, though this time it was much slower. He was still somehow inside of you when you’d woken up to the sun beginning to rise. Feeling him grow hard already within your walls was another new experience that felt beyond amazing. Morning haze made your body numb and sensitive at the same time, his warm lips raise goosebumps all over again as he reached his hand around to graze your puffy clit.

It only took a few fond touches to get you wet and ready, though of course neither of you stopped there.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” he muttered into your hair. “Smell so good, fit so perfect around me.”

Minho was even touchier than last night somehow, his hands never stopping finding a new part of your body to love. Your hips, your thighs, belly, love handles, chest, he even found a way to make your ankles feel sexy as he lifted your leg and met the joint half way in the air to place a kiss to.

The morning was spent in bed with him lazily thrusting into you from behind and caressing every bit of your body followed by unfiltered words as he came across it, annotating you like a good book. But a good book should always be accompanied by good music, his fingers strumming your center until you cried out a melody that would play in his head on repeat for ages. And you were filled to the brim once more, held so tightly and so loved that it felt impossible either one of you had ever been broken in the first place. There was just one piece missing.

But not to worry, he had burst through the door with almost comedic timing, seed seeping from your hole as he greeted the two of you.

“Awe, damn it. I missed out on the fun!” Jisung slumped, stripping his shirt and pants off and joining you and Minho in bed completely unphased by what had just happened. “We need a bigger bed,” he gave you a kiss on the forehead and one to Minho as well before taking up the space in front of you.

“She said we’re blanket stealers and wants to sleep on the edge,” Minho threw you under the bus before you’d even gotten to greet the blonde lying next to you.

“We’re what?!”

Their reaction was identical. “Be happy I don’t mind that you both also snore. Can I take a shower before you start attacking my sleeping preferences?”

“No! You sleep in the middle. Just like this,” Jisung copied Minho by tossing a leg over your torso and caging you between their bodies. You felt them interlock hands and rest it on your hip like another lovely hello.

“Why didn’t you stay?” You asked softly.

“Had a few errands to run,” the blonde eased your worries.

You reached your top hand back to run through Minho’s messy hair and the other dragging Jisung in closer by the chin, kissing his lips and humming. It was comfortable, so comfortable that your heart started to race and you wanted to hang your head out the window to scream to the world how in love you were and how you hoped everyone would look at you and feel jealous because of how much they loved you back. Was it petty? Yes. But you couldn’t help it, you were sickeningly happy and wanted everyone in the world to know.

With Jisung right in your face, you spoke, “I know I’m on birth control, but can one of you buy me a plan B? I just got double cum dumped and feel it sticking–”

“Double?!” Jisung yelled and sat up, looking over you at Minho. The older nodded yes to your question and pointed to where your bodies were still joined and held up two fingers, his cock flaccid now and doing very little to keep any fluids in. Looking closer, Jisung noticed the bruises covering your body and suddenly relaxed.

A mischievous grin replaced his jealousy. “Pup, I know I said you could do whatever you wanted to him. But I don’t see a single mark on him.” You looked behind you at Minho who attempted to hide his face in your hair. “Why don’t we go take a shower and change that?”

-

A/N: took me a sec to post this part...had a lot going on but we here now!!! and the character plot miiiight've gotten a bit lost but I'll make up for it in part 3 I promise!! so pleeeeease stick around for that it'll be worth it ;)

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @leebitsimpracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning