Tumgik
#just do nothing but draw her and add on to things about her
spacedlexi · 9 months
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trying to keep all my clemviminnie thoughts contained until i get to episode 3 but
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its hard
#telltale was CRAZY for this btw!! the drama of it all ALWAYS gets me#violet blaming herself for her gf/minnies death. clem helps her open up again. starts dating clem. finds out minnie is still alive?#saved violet telling clem she has nothing to worry about and she'll fight minnie if she has to to keep clem and her loved ones safe#kidnapped violet getting brain poisoned by minnie into turning against clem after feeling betrayed and abandoned by her#saved vi shooting minnie to save clem!!!!!!!!! but cant leave minnie behind because she already left her once and she cant do it again#vi begging minnie to stop trying to fucking kill them but shes too far gone. the 3 of them fight to the DEATH!!!#now add all that to the parallels and dark mirrors going on between clem and minnie in the A plot like the tension is off the charts#plus the parallels you can draw between clem and vi but those are less “you are my dark mirror” and more “we are the same i understand you”#HOW are the girlies not still talking about this#you know what i partially blame myself i dont talk about it enough either. i forget how many things ive left in my wips folder sometimes#UGH its all so good violets route just ads so much Flavor to the clem/minnie plotline its Delicious i couldnt imagine it Not being there#i neeeeeeeed to draw them fighting and being gay and maybe bloody even#if u cant tell i really want to get back to that wip i posted a few weeks ago but im Trying to Restrain Myself#i love forcing myself to take things slow sometimes really makes the brain shift into overdrive#twdg#violentine#it speaks
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widowshill · 3 months
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r/v + loneliness.
102 / Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca, ch. 4 / 4 / 8 / Art Wallace, Shadows on the Wall / 603 / Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca, ch 4. / 473 / Richard Sherman, Demo: "Lovely, Lonely Man/Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Finale" / 2
#➤ roger collins & victoria winters. ┊ pain sometimes precedes pleasure,miss winters.#➤ edits & art. ┊ the evans cottage art gallery.#compilation tag#idk I have just been Thinking about this since that gifset lol.#‘I’ll blame it on you‚’ she says — because you are the one who has brought me here‚ she thinks#because she seems to anticipate even in their first meeting that she will play Eyre and he Rochester.#there had better be many more such tête-à-tête’s on the cliff side or she’ll be terribly disappointed !#[and not only cliffside proselytizing: barging into her room at all hours‚ chasing her around town‚ dragging her bodily into the drawing#room‚ and‚ occasionally on a good day‚ an actual genuine date or a meal sometime.]#Roger has –– in theory –– everything that she wants. a family‚ a home‚ a wife and child‚ history and ancestry! boy does he have that!#and yet he is terribly terribly alone in this well he has poisoned.#(from which‚ I might add‚ vicki drinks greedily.)#''What do you want out of life?'' when he's already achieved (or so it appears on the outside) the midcentury blazon of success:#a family‚ a well-to-do office position at which he really does nothing‚ a succession of american-made sports cars.#he may be separated from his wife but together‚ he and elizbeth and david and carolyn form a mimetic image of the nuclear family.#to which vicki is desperate to grasp onto‚ even in its most nightmarish form‚ whether or not she realizes that's why she stays.#but what does he want? he wants the same thing she wants. love and companionship. (that he hasn't yet ruined. that he can't stop ruining.)#she may not precisely understand his type of loneliness but she knows about loneliness among people. she's lived it.#and she knows too about ... a visceral loneliness pushing you to push people even further away (as in the childhood story she tells david).#so she sees through his fronts a lot of the time‚ whether they be a layer of charm‚ or terror. and boy does he hate that. being seen for#something real. where his actions matter and produce consequences. where feeling is real – good or bad.#the little governess and her capacity to find shadows to throw light on! whether they be locked chambers in the basement or the atria.
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literaila · 2 months
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three things
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)
warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo
last part | next part
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*
year one.
"no, satoru." 
how many times have you said that today? 
how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything? 
oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five. 
megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.
it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely. 
because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.
you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind. 
so you're not sure what to expect. 
because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him. 
the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried. 
it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week. 
"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert." 
"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way." 
"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?" 
you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists." 
satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks. 
the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face. 
you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school. 
how long will it take before you finally ask him--
you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back. 
"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.
you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.
you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right. 
satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him. 
"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.
megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red. 
"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.
"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.
"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us." 
"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.
you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy. 
megumi swallows. "i like dango." 
"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some." 
"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--" 
you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again. 
you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want. 
tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by. 
honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air. 
after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head. 
he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart. 
after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.
"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed. 
"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly. 
"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side. 
the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear. 
satoru is already looking at you. 
"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors. 
"what what?" 
you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?" 
satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"why are you acting weird?" 
"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning. 
he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?" 
you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes. 
"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..." 
you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want." 
satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything." 
"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids." 
"everyone?" 
"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait." 
he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?" 
you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi." 
"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.
"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it." 
"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable." 
"by invading his space?" 
"you stare from far away, i stare from up close." 
"you antagonize." 
satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again. 
the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances. 
it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him. 
"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second. 
"about the kids?" 
"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up." 
he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days." 
and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you. 
"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up." 
"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically. 
"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know." 
"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward." 
"maybe it's too much, too fast." 
satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?" 
"everything." 
satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out? 
how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right? 
and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?
satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this." 
"well, i have to do it for the both of us." 
he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days." 
you sigh, nodding reluctantly. 
"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..." 
you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you." 
"hey, yes he does." 
"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up." 
"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding." 
you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you. 
he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy. 
when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall. 
"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading. 
she nods immediately. 
you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek. 
something inside of you warms, just briefly. 
and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you. 
"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?" 
"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--" 
megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning. 
"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave." 
megumi glowers. 
"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--" 
"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need." 
tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll. 
"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like." 
and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit. 
satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.
something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him. 
you try not to flinch away from the contact. 
and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you. 
he's trying to be reassuring. 
so you smile back and let him hold your hand. 
"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.
*
later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice. 
"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.
it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.
the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.
as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart. 
*
next part
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ginax0916 · 2 months
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⋆。𖦹 °.✩ 𝐈’𝐦 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✩⋆。𖦹 °.
Chris Sturniolo x Fem!Reader
Genre - Fluff :)
Synopsis - Reader is a shy introverted person, she rarely adds on to convos. But when she finally tries to she’s ignored, but Chris is the one willing to listen to her.
I’m someone who doesn’t really talk. Not because I can’t, just because I choose not to. I just feel like I really have nothing to say. I just sit there and listen to others. It’s the way I prefer it.
I’ve been friends with the triplets for over 2 years now. But with them it’s a little different. I do talk when I’m around them, I just feel more comfortable. They always let me speak; unlike with big groups of people they tend to ignore me or just not care for what I have to say. And I guess I understand it. I mean I’m a quiet person, my voice in general is quiet. Why would anyone want to listen to what I have to say?
“N/n you ready to go?” Chris asks, calling me by my nickname.
“Uh yea I’m ready” I nervously respond. We were all going to some birthday party for one of the triplets friends. I don’t really know them but I was invited too and since the triplets are going I guess I am too.
“You ok?” Matt asks noticing my nerves.
“Yea why?” I reply trying to hide my emotions.
“No reason” He rubs my arm and walks away to the car.
I look around as we enter the house. It’s quite big, it’s filled with balloons and decorations all over. The neon lights making it hard to see the colours of things. It’s loud. Very loud. Too loud for my personal liking. Chris on the other hand is already talking to half of the people here. I’ve always admired him. The way he can just talk to everyone so easily is mind blowing to me. And everyone around him just seems to like his energy. I don’t understand how he does it. But I’m sure his looks have definitely something to do with it.
“Matt and I are gonna go look for Larray, are you ok staying with Chris or do you wanna come with us??” Nick asks me knowing I don’t like to be alone at parties.
“I can stay with Chris I don’t mind” I smile back as they nod and walk away.
“Chris?” I quietly say tapping his shoulder.
“Hm? You ok? Where’s Nick and Matt?” Chris asks starting to panic a little.
“I’m ok, I was just gonna ask you if I could stay with you because Matt and Nick went to look for Larray” I reply back, looking down at the floor intimidated by his stare.
“Of course you can stay with me. We’re all gonna go outside to talk come on” He smiles and I grab on to his arm as we move to the outside patio.
This is the part I hate the most. The talking. Makes me look like an idiot who can’t speak. Not to mention I look like a child holding on to Chris’s arm for dear life because I’m too scared to let go. He doesn’t seem to mind, but the stares other girls are giving me are telling me for some reason they mind.
“No yea I agree dude like I can’t believe she would do that to him”
“So what are you guys doing for summer? We should throw a big summer party and the beach”
“Did you guys hear about the tea with Kate and her boyfriend??”
I try and tune out all the different convos that have been happening. I have nothing to say about them. Until one. Kate is my best friend. I know everything that’s happening with her and her bf. Should I say something? I can’t. But I really want to. My mouth twitches. I want to talk I really want to.
“Y/n aren’t you like best friends with Kate?” Some girl asks me.
“I- I am yea” I stutter. Already growing nervous with all the eyes looking at me.
“So like is it true that she fucked another guy and cheated??” The girl asks smiling.
“What? No she didn’t” I reply quietly my hands sweating and slightly shaking. I feel Chris rub my arm, drawing little shapes with his fingers as if he’s telling me to relax.
“Yea she did I know she did” She says laughing.
“N-no that not what happened. It w-was the other way around” I stutter again, feeling embarrassed.
“Why do you stutter so much? Did the cat get your tongue?” She spits out giving me and nasty look.
Everyone laughed. Every single person there laughed. All looking at me judging me. I want to cry. There’s tears pricking at my eyes. My throat closes up. I hate this all I wanna leave.
“Dude what the fuck leave her alone” Chris raises his voice at the girl.
But before I can hear what that bitch has to say I get up and speed walk away to somewhere quiet.
Tears run down my face as I go upstairs and find an unlocked room. I go to the balcony and sit on the chair with my knees up to my chest. My heavy breathing filling up the room. How pathetic of me? Having a panic attack over talking?
“Oh baby” I hear a familiar voice say. I look up with tear filled eyes and see Chris approaching me with a small comforting smile on his pretty lips.
“C’mere” He opens his arms up to me inviting me into his warm embrace. Without a thought I wrap my arms around his torso and lay my head on his stomach since I’m still sitting down.
“It’s ok, you’re ok. Breathe for me yea? Nice and slow. Just like that pretty girl” The praise giving me butterflies as I follow his instructions which help me calm down.
He suddenly picks me up with ease and sits on the chair I was once on. I stare at him confused for a second; he chuckles and grabs my hips making me sit on his lap sideways. Chris then holds my head with one hand keeping it close to him, and rubs my back with the other hand.
“I’m listening ma” He smiles. I blush at the nickname and look down.
“No no none of that, don’t shy up on me” Chris laughs and tilts my chin up for me to look at him.
“Will you really listen or are you just saying that because I’m crying?” I say quietly as I sniffle and nuzzle my head into his neck.
“Of course I will listen, I want to hear your pretty voice” He rubs my knee in a comforting way while smiling down at me.
“Ok well first it’s not true what that girl said because you know Kate she wouldn’t do that” I started off.
Chris only stared at me in adoration with the biggest smile on his face. He’s the one that truly listen to me.
“But then she found his phone and saw the text!” I kept on going on about the story till the end of it.
“Well now I know the truth ma” He says using that nickname again.
“Mhm” I hum blushing because of the nickname.
“It’s cute when you blush after I call you ma” He laughs making me blush even harder.
“Come on let’s go find Nick and Matt so we can go home and watch a movie yea?”
I tried to do something diff and wrote about Chris cuz I just felt like it would be fun yk. So I’ll be doing fics about the Sturniolos too so pls pls request anything I’m in need of ideas I beg 😣🙏
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srjlvr · 6 months
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WHAT’s IN MY BAG ?!
what would ENHA members put in their bag that reminds them of you.
idol-ot7!enha x nonidol-fem!reader | genre fluff | warnings none (lmk if i missed smth) | not proofread ! | ✎ ᝰ (‘a note from jo’) . don’t even ask me how i thought about it bc i honestly dont know
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희승 <> heeseung
he’d probably go around with your beauty products like hand creams and such.
it’s the ones you always use and even asked heeseung to buy them for you a few times when you ran out of it.
you sometimes happen to forget them when you two are going out—no worries!! heeseung is always here to rescue.
“what’s your favorite thing you keep in your bag?” the interviewer asks. heeseung looks through his bag and smiles when he sees something that reminds him of you, he takes it out and chuckles, “y/n always uses them, i thought it’d be good if i keep them since she always forgets them when we go out”
제이 <> jay
he’d definitely carry your perfume in his bag. he bought it to you once as a gift and ever since then it became your favorite perfume ever.
sometimes when you’re far from each other, he’d put on your perfume he carries around just because he misses you.
always buys extras and gives them to you but leaves one in his bag just incase he rans out of it and isn’t able to buy more at the moment.
“what’s the most expensive thing in your bag?” the interviewer asks, clearly making them to show off. jay immediately takes out your perfume and grins, “i bought it for y/n as a gift, but i didn’t expect her to like it as much as she does now, so i buy it more often now and it’s somehow the most expensive one”
“i use it a lot, i always think about y/n when i do” he smiles and nods, the members all sniffing him and giggling.
제이크 <> jake
before the two of you got together, you made him a heart shaped paper with a cute drawing on it.
he’d definitely carry that around, even if it looks old and wrinkled, he loves it.
always shows it to people since he adores it so much and wants to show off about how amazing you are.
“what’s the thing you’d never agree to give away?” the interviewer asks. jake, without a doubt takes out the heart shaped old and wrinkled paper with a big smile on his face, “y/n made it for me before we started dating, at that moment i knew i had to do everything to make her mine”
성훈 <> sunghoon
sunghoon loves taking pictures. he especially likes taking polaroid pictures with you, and of you alone.
he’d go around with a little album of your polaroids together, there’s nothing he loves more than looking through those pictures whenever you two are far away from each other.
would take it ANYWHERE he goes, and always adds new polaroids when he gets the time to take new pictures.
“what’s one thing you’d never get rid off?” the interviewer asks. sunghoon takes out the little album and smiles as he shows a few pictures of the two of you together, “it’s me and y/n in those pictures, i have this album for over a year and we’re always taking new pictures, i always look at them whenever i miss her”
the poor boy blushes and covers his face, the rest are busy pouting, “it’s the fact that he doesn’t even have pictures with us in his bag that saddens us”
선우 <> sunoo
gahhh i feel like he’d definitely carry around hair products in his bag—such as hairpins and hair ties.
he loves loves LOVES styling your hair, and always has an emergency hairpins and hair ties just incase.
your hairpin broke? sunoo’s here to fix it for you. your hair tie is not holding enough? sunoo’s. here. to. fix. that.
“what’s a thing you rarely use but still have it?” the interviewer asks. sunoo knows the answer right away and takes out the hairpins and hair ties with a giggle, “i use it on y/n mostly since i can’t really style my hair with these, but she needs them a lot so i carry it around”
정원 <> jungwon
the amount of wireless earbuds that you lost is insane. jungwon, being the responsible he is—still uses his first earbuds ever.
when you bought a new pair, jungwon decided to buy an extra one. he puts it in his bag and carries it around in case you’d come up to him and tell him you lost it again.
lost a pair again? jungwon pulls out the extra he bought you last time, and would probably buy an extra one again since he can’t trust you on this one. would he mind? no, not at all.
“what’s a thing you actually have twice of it?” the interviewer asks. jungwon laughs as soon as he hears the question, taking out the earbuds he bought recently, “i have my own earbuds, and these one are extra for y/n, she keeps loosing her earbuds all the time so i keep extras in my bag for her”
“it’s quite expensive isn’t it?” the interviewer asks and jungwon nods, “but i don’t mind since it always reminds me of her”
니키 <> ni-ki
both ni-ki and you LOVE sunglasses. you even bought matching ones once! ni-ki would probably carry one of your favorite sunglasses in his bag.
you have your own that you love and usually wear, but the one ni-ki carries is your most expensive and favorite one.
as much as he loves his own sunglasses, he’d wear yours whenever he misses you a lot, that way he can feel your embrace next to him, even if you’re not physically by his side.
“what’s your favorite accessory in your bag?” the interviewer asks. ni-ki smiles and slowly takes out your sunglasses, “it actually belongs to y/n, but i took it. we both love sunglasses and we bought matching ones, but since these are her favorites i carry them around and wear them all the time”
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••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.
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natsarrownecklacx · 2 months
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Just One Chance
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count- 2,191
Summary- You desperately want Natasha to sit on your face, she’s definitely not apposed to the idea, but she does have her concerns.
Warnings- Smut, 18+ only Minors this is not a fic for you. Chubby, subby Nat (she’s so adorable pls I love her) face sitting, slight degradation kink, slight mommy kink, teasing, hand riding (?) talks on weight insecurities (Nat)
Based on this
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
“Baby, please.” You plead with your girlfriend, not for the first time, for her to give into your desperation. “You won’t hurt me, I promise.”
Natsaha looks at you with eyes full of guilt and uncertainty. She knows you want her to do this, knows how desperately you crave her this way and honestly if you were asking for anything else she would have given it to you within a moment's notice, but this, she just can't.
She has a deep seeded fear that the chub around her thighs, tummy and waist will hurt you the second she puts her weight down on you.
She’s always declined your offer, your need, to pleasure her that way, despite your assurances that she wouldn’t hurt you, that you’d only ever feel blessed to be between her legs.
She’d be lying if she said she’d never thought about it. That she’d never cum with her fingers buried deep inside her with the thought of you underneath her, mouth on her cunt bringing her to the very edge of bliss before pulling her over and helping her fall.
“Nat.” You say seriously. “If you are genuinely uncomfortable with this I will drop it, but if the only thing holding you back is your fear of hurting me then I need you to hear me when I say you won’t, love. I’ll even have a safeword and action for if I need a break.”
You see it the moment Natasha’s shoulders slump, her body relaxing at the idea of you having a safe word, a way for her to ensure your comfort and safety.
You take the opportunity to close the distance between you, the slight chill in your shared bedroom dissipating the second her body is against yours, even with the both of you fully clothed.
You take her in your arms, pulling her toward you to place a kiss on her cheek. “Besides.” You add, teasingly, a smirk on your lips. “I’m not sure if I've ever mentioned this but my preferred way to go out is between your thighs, love.”
Natasha laughs, lightly swatting your shoulder, a teasing tone to her own voice as she answers. “You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.”
In your defense, it would be your preferred way to go, if it came down to it, you’d want to leave this life with her. Where else would you get a view like that?
Natasha takes a second to think it over, a steady heat pooling between her legs at the thought, ultimately leading her to the decision not to deprive either of you of this any longer.
“Okay.” Natasha says, so quietly you think you might have imagined it.
“Okay?” You ask, your voice filled with poorly covered hope.
“Yes.” Natasha says more confidently this time. “I’ll sit on your face.” She blushes as she says it, the crude words feeling heavy on her tongue.
You don’t even try to hide your excitement as you smile at her, sliding your hands down her body, stopping at her thighs to pick her up and throw her onto the bed.
“Strip, love.”
Your eyes darken as you stand at the foot of the bed, watching her remove her clothes one by one until she’s left in only her panties in front of you. “Leave those on.”
Natasha groans, knowing she’s about to be teased. “But-” She tries to protest, only for you to cut her off by crawling on top of her, caging her against the bed with your body. “But nothing, love. What I say goes and you know that. Don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She replies, letting her eyes drift to where your pointer finger is tracing over the skin of her stomach.
You draw a path over the skin of her abdomen, up through the valley of her breasts, across her collarbones and over her throat and jawline. You take her jaw in your grasp, making her move her gaze back to your face. Her pupils are dilated, submission and lust clear in her gaze.
You lean down to cover her lips with your own, simultaneously moving your finger back down between her breasts, down over her stomach and over her thighs.
You roughly palm the inside her thighs, causing a gasp to leave her lips and allowing you to slip your tongue into her mouth. The noise she releases is heavenly, somewhere between a needy whine and a moan and you have to keep your hips from bucking against her.
You bring your hand down to grope at her thighs, feeling the desperation roll off of her in waves, her hips rising off the bed in search of more.
Natasha pulls away, her head falling against the pillow below her with a dull thud. “Please.” She says, breathlessly.
“Please what?” You ask, feigning confusion.
Natasha only huffs at your act, her hips raising again trying to catch your attention. “Please, touch me.” She says, this time making sure to look you in the eye, knowing your weakness for her dark green orbs.
“I am touching you, love.” You tease further, groping the flesh of her inner thigh to prove your point.
“No.” She says confidently, making you raise a brow as takes your wrist in her hold, guiding your hand from her thigh to her heat. “I need you here. Please, y/n.”
Without saying anything, you press against the wet spot on her panties, delighting in the noise it draws from her. Her hips lift on instinct, pushing herself against your hand, head falling back at the pressure she’s rewarded with.
“Oh g-god.” She stutters out, rutting her hips against the flat of your hand, held firmly against her with her hand wrapped around your wrist.
You smirk down at her, a borderline predatory look in your eyes. “You gettin close, love?” You ask, feeling her pick up the pace of her hips, cute little moans falling from her lips as she nods.
“Yeah?” You tease, only to receive another nod in response. You bring your free hand up to wrap around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her head swim. “How about now?” You taunt, receiving only a whine and a breathy “f-fuck” in answer.
“Gonna come.” She says in warning and you can’t help but smile as you watch her tilt her head back, her back arching off the bed as she moans and a gush of arousal soaks her panties.
“Aww, honey.” You coo, fighting against a smirk when you see a bright red blush cover her cheeks, her head turning to the side, avoiding you’re gaze.
Keeping your hand on your throat loosely you lean in to whisper against her ear. “You came so hard your shaking and I didn’t even properly touch you.”
Natasha whines, moving forward to tuck her head into your neck. “None of that, sweetheart.” You say, moving away from her to capture her lips with yours.
She closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of you against her. You pull away and she tries to follow your lips, a chuckle leaving yours as you lean back, giving her some room to breathe.
It takes Natasha a minute to gather herself, her eyes drifting to your smile as soon as she’s calmed enough to meet your dark gaze.
You shift off of her, lying on the bed beside her and tapping her thigh.
“Come on, honey.” You say, moving your eyes slowly up her body until you meet her blown out pupils. “Sit your pretty self on my face and I’ll make you cum again.”
Natasha whimpers and clenches her thighs shut, the action drawing your attention, a smirk falling onto your face.
She moves to straddle your stomach, her hands flat against your chest as she stares down at you. The sight of you beneath her, eager to please her reminds her of her often thought of fantasies. Her hips grind down on you unintentionally, drawing a quiet moan from her.
You laugh quietly and take her jaw into your hand, forcing her too look you in the eye. “That’s right honey, I want you to make yourself feel good just like that. I just need to taste you while you do it.”
Natasha nods dumbly, moving off of you to remove her panties. She then moves herself to straddle over your face, her eyes full of hesitation as she lowers herself down, refusing to put any weight on you.
You allow her this moment of hesitation, looking to her for permission as you wrap your arms around her thighs, lifting your head between her legs.
You wait for her nod of approval, a timid smile on her lips as she does so, before you let your tongue come in contact with her cunt. You lick a strip up her and watch in fascination as her mouth drops open at the pleasure it causes her.
You move your tongue to her clit, circling the bundle of nerves and Natasha’s hands fly to the headboard to hold herself up as her thighs begin to tremble.
“Oh god.” She moans, fighting against herself to keep from grinding on your tongue. “Y/n.” She moans.
Natasha’s head tips back, whines and moans spilling from her lips. You look up at her, noticing the muscles in her arms tense, her thighs shaking on either side of your head and you know she’s holding back.
You use your hold on her to pull her down onto you fully. She looks down at you, alarm on her face for all of five seconds before you flatten your tongue under her clit and pull her forward on your tongue.
She moans loudly, hints of desperation laced in the pretty sound. Her hands to rest just above your head, her hips grinding against you with fever, drawing every ounce of pleasure she can from you.
You let her use your mouth to get herself off, her desperate movements, moans and cries of your name turn you on more than you can bear. Your thighs squeeze together, trying to release the building pressure.
“Oh god.” She cries out, her head falling forward. “Feels so good.” She moans, her hips stuttering against her tongue. The sound and the taste of her make you moan into her, causing her to cry out again.
You move your tongue away from her clit, her whine of protest bringing a smirk to your lips.
Natasha sits up, her back straight, her hands wresting on her thighs. She stares down at you through hooded eyes, her pupils blown out and a pout on her face. “Y/n.” She mumbles, as if she simply doesn’t have the energy to do any more.
“Yes baby.” You answer, giving short, gentle licks against her opening. “Nughhh. Oh god, y/n please.” She begs, trying to grind down onto your tongue.
You look up at her with mischievous eyes, her eyes widening as she sees them. “What are you- fuck!” She cries out, feeling your tongue slide inside of her.
You thrust your tongue in and out of her, using your grip on her thigh to pull her more onto your mouth.
Her walls flutter around you as she weaves her fingers into your hair, tugging lightly on the strands.
You brush your nose against her clit as you thrust inside her, causing her head to fly back and a loud cry of “mommy” to fall from her lips. Her thighs shake and threaten to close as she comes apart on your face, the orgasm hitting her harder than ever before.
You continue to thrust into her, drawing out her pleasure as she rides out her high on your tongue.
You only pull away from her when she whines from overstimulation, her hand pushing you away from her as her whole body slumps forward.
She takes all of five seconds to catch her breath before she registers her position, the amount of her weight she let you bare.
In a state of panic she lifts herself from your mouth. A panicked jumble of apologies and words of concern leave her lips so fast you can barely understand what she’s saying.
You simply lift your hand to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately snapping to yours, the panic all but evaporating from them when she sees the adoration and bliss in yours.
She gasps when she meets your eyes, the sight of you covered in her so contently causing the heat in her stomach to reignite
You kiss the inside of each of her thighs, relishing in the shaky breath she releases as you do so, a mumbled “you're so beautiful” falling from your lips and you watch as a blush covers her cheeks and she looks away shyly.
“So.” You tease, causing Natasha to look back at you. “Mommy, huh?”
Natasha’s eyes widen again, suddenly remembering what she’d said in her state of pure arousal.
You feel it against her hand when she goes to apologize, but you keep her mouth firmly shut, pushing your hand against her.
“Shh, baby. Just let mommy taste you again.”
ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ <3 ⴵ
A/n - I’m not entirely happy with this one but the wip list is so long I just wanted it done and honestly if I don’t post it rn there’s a 50/50 on it never being posted. Hope ye like it anyways
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cabotwife · 4 months
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Can you do a Johanna mason x fem reader grumpy x sunshine and it’s katniss and petas as first time meeting but sunshine x grump not abuser x sunshine. I feel like Johanna would be kind to her gf
thank you for the request! i hope this is up to your standards?
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You Are My Sunshine
Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader
warnings: slightly hinted ADHD coded reader, ooc Peeta(?)
word count: 661 (sorry it's short i had a hard time figuring out where to go with it)
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the pure smile on your face is inerasable as you follow behind your girlfriend, your hand interlocked with hers as you both leave the training center.
"Johanna! hey!" a voice calls out, breaking the tranquil silence that had surrounded the two of you. Johanna turns around, your hand slipping from hers as you both pivot to face the source of the voice.
a short blonde boy approaches the both of you, with a slightly taller dark-haired girl trailing not too far behind him. you recognize them as Katniss and Peeta from last year’s games.
Johanna raises an eyebrow at the pair, her gaze primarily fixed on the boy. "what do you want?" she asks, her voice laced with a hint of skepticism as she crosses her arms over her chest.
the blonde’s cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink as he stammers, "just wanted to talk about being allies." the statement leaves his mouth as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "you seemed pretty fond of the idea yesterday-" his voice trails off as his gaze shifts to the other woman, who is now squinting at him.
your chuckle escapes you at the sight of her expression, drawing all eyes onto you. as you notice their stares, a blush tints your cheeks. "hi.." you mumble, your eyes flitting up to meet Johanna’s.
“you want to be allies with us?” Johanna redirects the attention back onto her, and you, overwhelmed by the sudden attention, bounce on the balls of your feet, your eyes darting around the hallway as you look for something else to focus on.
“us?” Katniss questions, her eyebrow raised.
Johanna lets out a frustrated groan, "us." she motions between you and her. but you remain distracted, your attention diverted as you watch Finnick and Mags leave the training room. "y/n." Johanna interrupts your thoughts, placing her hand on your shoulder and pulling your attention back to her.
you turn your head to look at her, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "hmm?"
Johanna chuckles at your reaction, following your gaze over to where you were previously staring. "go," she instructs, motioning for you to leave.
Katniss furrows her eyebrows as Johanna shoos you away.
“thank you, babyy,” you drawl out, leaning up to press a gentle peck to her lips before darting off towards your best friend.
Peeta is left staring at Johanna, his mouth slightly agape.
Johanna turns back to the two of them, irritation painting her features. “what?” she snaps.
“nothing!” Peeta quickly defends, his hands raised in surrender as he locks eyes with the taller woman.
rolling her eyes, Johanna lets out a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. “yeah, we can be allies.” she finally concedes, crossing her arms as she once again meets their gaze.
Johanna, caught in the middle of an uncomfortable silence, carefully scrutinizes the two figures standing before her. neither Peeta nor Katniss utters a single word, a thick tension hanging in the air between them. she narrows her eyes slightly, pursing her lips in an obvious sign of annoyance.
after what feels like an eternity, she finally releases a heavy sigh, her voice dripping with sarcastic humor as she says, "well, this has been a great talk. enlightening, really." she adds an exaggerated raise of her eyebrows for good measure. "now, if you'll excuse me," she continues, her tone shifting to something more sincere, "i need to catch up with my girlfriend." without giving them the chance to respond, she swiftly walks past them, her boots clicking against the hard floor as she heads in your direction. 
you, meanwhile, are standing a little way off, engaged in an animated conversation with Finnick. the sight of her approaching brings a smile to your face, a stark contrast to the slightly dumbfounded expressions she leaves behind on the faces of Peeta and Katniss, who are still standing in the hallway, processing the interaction.
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cloudy-dreams · 7 months
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I imagined a Wally Junji ito au! Like
Wally being in Tomie's role!
Here's a bit of Tomie story OwO
"Tomie Kawakami is a femme fatale with long black hair and a beauty mark just under her left eye. She can seduce nearly any man, and drive them to murder as well, even though the victim is often Tomie herself. While one lover seeks to keep her for himself, another grows terrified of the immortal succubus."
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I adore Junji ito’s work to bits! I love his line work he does for his drawings! It’s so gritty looking!
Anywho, I enjoyed doing this ask! Here’s Wally as Tomie! (I tried to capture Junji Ito’s style mix mashed with my art style, along with replicating panels from the manga) I did two versions where Wally has long hair and short hair.
Content warnings: Body horror, murder
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(Oops forgot to add this artwork)
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(I did write a little story about this and changed the personality and story of Tomie)
Y/n and Wally have been close friends since childhood, being by each others sides while growing up together..
Now they were in high school, Y/n made decent amount of friends, while Wally gained popularity by his beauty, and anyone would kill for it…
Y/n does defend Wally from crowds of people gawking at Wally, while comforting him during the aftermath, Wally slowly realizing that he was only recognized by his pretty face, this fact was tearing up Wally from the inside..
Only looking up to the only viable friend he has.. Y/n…The only person who cares about him..
On one fateful day…in the 5th floor of the school
A fellow peer started harassing Wally for stealing the attention of the girl they liked with his beauty, making Wally back up to an open window.
The student continued to verbally assault Wally.
Wally had enough, and sassily snapped back at the angry student which made them snap and pushed Wally….
Causing him to fall out of the open window…
Y/n witnessed their childhood friend falling to the ground, as witnesses immediately flocked to the sight, surrounding the unresponsive Wally..
Y/n only staid still out of pure disbelief, muffling everything and only hearing the words that crashed their world.
“He’s dead!”
The police and the ambulance came and took away Wally’s lifeless body in a body bag, Y/n desperately tried to see Wally but was denied from doing so by the police.
Y/n cried in hysteria, trying to deny that Wally was forever gone..
Y/n fell into deep despair as they held their tears during his funeral, and after that…everyone went back to their normal lives..
Not until Wally came through the classroom doors, giving everyone a warm smile.
Everyone stared in shock as they shouted out his name in disbelief, seeing him alive and well.
With him only responding with a calm and collected demeanor
“Ha..ha! That’s me alright!”
Y/n was one among many who was reasonably appalled with his return…
Y/n asked many and many questions to Wally on how he lived, they did just witnessed his death that happened right in front of there eyes
Only getting responses from Wally who looked confused and clueless to Y/n’s mixed of emotions…as if nothing ever happened just a couple of weeks ago..
And it was from this day forward that Wally acted strange to Y/n, holding their hands everywhere they go, staring at them for long periods of time, as if in a trance.
But, the major thing that everyone noticed was his beauty, he became more attractive since they last saw him, his eyes became hypnotizing for anyone gazes into them, everything about his appearance is more enchanting…
So enchanting in fact….it drives people mad…obsessing over every single inch of his body…
So mad…the students murdered him..hacking him to pieces..
Until he came back again…even more beautiful…
Y/n became uneasy being around Wally…seeing his ever decreasing behavior…Seeing him be rude and dehumanizing people left and right..
Boasting about his beauty to all, getting people riled up..
Getting increasingly possessive over them..
Y/n couldn’t even recognize Wally anymore…so Y/n began to distant themselves from him..
And Wally didn’t like that…
And Y/n’s other friends began to disappear…only ending up being pronounced dead on news..
Y/n’s paranoia began to increase, only increasing when many and many photos of Wally were tossed off the roof of the school.
Gently floating down as Y/n caught one…
Their fear spiked…
It was just a normal picture of Wally…but a disfigured and monstrous version of Wally was peaking out of his black hair..
Every photo was like this…
Wally was next to them as they watched Y/n looked at his photo in fear..
Wally was growing furious by the second, Y/n saw his furious expression…
Only growing more tense…
This was not Wally…it wasn’t…
Now witnessing him asking a favor to nearby students…a favor to harm the person who took his photos…he had students wrapped around his finger…
Using them as his pawn for his own gain..
After that…the person who took the photos survived the angry students who tried to kill them, thankfully..
But now they were a social outcast from high-school for harming Wally.
And from that point on…Y/n moved schools without telling Wally…leaving him…
But as soon as they settled down comfortably in a new school..Wally was there too…
Smiling at Y/n with a ever so warm smile that held anger…
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Hope ya’ll like this story! Not one of my best works but I like it!
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novelconcepts · 10 months
Text
There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.
Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.
Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).
But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?
How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.
How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.
How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.
How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.
How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.
How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?
All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?
They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.
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moonjxsung · 4 months
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OMG i have a small ask
first date w seungmin and everything’s going like … REALLY BAD right like his reservation got canceled typa beat just bad thing after bad thing
and then it starts raining and he’s all moppy and reader pulls him in for their first kiss AGHH i’m in my fluff days
thank you!!
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“What do you mean there’s no reservation under ‘Kim’? It’s a party of two.”
“I’m aware, the hostess says as she scans her clipboard once more. “But we don’t have anything under that name.”
“How long is the wait?” Seungmin asks, glancing nervously at you and then back at the hostess.
“About 4 hours, depending on guest arrival,” she says plainly. “You can also book another reservation online for another day and time.”
“I can’t do another day,” Seungmin huffs frustratedly. “We both have-”
“Then I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do for you,” she cuts him off. She turns to another party entering the restaurant, bowing to them as she checks the reservation on their phone and ushers them toward a table.
“Best of luck,” the hostess says, as she compiles a stack of menus in her hands and leads them inside the restaurant.
First dates very seldom seem to go smoothly for you, who always runs into a unique set of bad experiences while alongside whichever cute guy you’re seeing this week. Last week it was you who paid, your date conveniently forgetting his wallet and ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. The week before, your date was much older than he’d advertised, the ten-year age gap making for sparse conversation at the dinner table. And currently, it’s a lost reservation at the most in-demand restaurant in town, because why would you have thought it to go any other way?
“I swear I booked us a reservation,” Seungmin says as he turns to you. “It’s in my phone calendar and everything. They probably didn’t add it to their stupid book.”
Seungmin runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly, and you chuckle lightly at the sight of him.
You’re not mad about this date going awry just minutes into meeting him- mostly because it’s not his fault in the slightest. You know it was probably the restaurant that overbooked or forgot to pen in his name. But normally, any other guy you were out with would blame you, call it quits and run off to find the next woman deemed worthy of taking out.
But not Seungmin. He appears to be genuinely frustrated with himself, like he actually wanted to take you out to dinner tonight. And judging by the way he cares about it so much, you have no intention to end this date prematurely.
“Is there another restaurant you like? Do you like chicken? Or- fuck, you’re vegetarian, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I totally forgot.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him casually. “We can walk down the street and see what’s around if you’d like?”
Seungmin nods nervously holding the door for you as he escorts you out of the restaurant.
It’s already late out, and most restaurants are either closed for the evening or drawing to a close, as you pass by their windows and watch store owners shut off their neon “open” signs and flip their signs to “closed”.
“Sorry, we close in ten minutes,” the owner of a small noodle shop tells you, as she shakes her head. “We’re open again tomorrow at 11.”
Seungmin throws his hands up in defeat, sighing frustratedly and averting your gaze.
“I’m so sorry,” Seungmin voices. “This is all my fault. I should’ve called to double check that our reservation made it through.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you voice back to him. “It’s really not a big deal.”
Your hands are shoved in the pockets of your coat as you walk beside him, glancing around the strip of shops to gauge what’s still open at this hour. A pho restaurant, closed for the evening. Sushi, also closed. Sandwich shop and a little cafe, both closed.
The only thing still lit at the very end of the strip is a small convenience store, the neon “open” sign flashing a bright green color as the owner sweeps the floor inside. It’s empty at this hour, just a few cars in the parking lot from the other businesses. And you smile at Seungmin, gesturing to the convenience store with a nod of your head.
“What do you say we get some instant noodles?”
Seungmin looks at the convenience store, and then back at you, an expression of disbelief painted on his face.
“What- seriously? I don’t want to make you eat a microwave meal for dinner, we can just-”
“I’m serious,” you say with a smile. “I haven’t had them in so long. There’s all kinds of new flavors too, and we can get dessert if we want.”
Seungmin scans your expression again for any hint of this being a joke, but you wait for his answer with bated breath, fully intent on enjoying a steaming cup of ramen alongside him.
“I mean, sure,” Seungmin says finally. “Let’s do it.”
The convenience store is neatly organized with rows upon rows of instant noodles, chips of every flavor, trays of rice balls and cans of carbonated beverages. There’s a microwave all the way in the back of the shop for meals, and the shop owner even sends the two of you off with a free tin of cookies while Seungmin pays.
“Beautiful couple,” she remarks to you, and you smile back at her while Seungmin chuckles nervously.
“Thank you,” you say back, giving her a little bow when she slips the cookies into your bag.
When Seungmin finishes paying, he bows to the shop owner too, holding the door open for you as you exit the shop.
“This smells amazing,” you remark to Seungmin, stirring your noodles around with a set of wooden chopsticks.
“Yeah, I’ve never had this flavor before,” Seungmin replies. “I hope it’s not too spicy.”
You glance around the parking lot for a table or a raised curb to sit on, but you see nothing in your immediate sight, Seungmin also noticing as he observes the empty streets.
“We can walk back to the restaurant and sit on one of the outside tables-”
And before he can finish, you sling your bag over your shoulder onto the floor, sitting on the short curb in an empty parking spot and patting the vacant space next to you.
Seungmin shrugs, occupying the curb beside you, as you both stir your noodles around.
“Cheers,” you say to Seungmin. “To… first dates?”
Seungmin chuckles lightly, giving you a nod and tapping his paper cup lightly against yours.
“Cheers to that.”
And the noodles are promptly devoured by both of you in between sips of melon soda and shortbread cookies, per the shop owner’s generosity.
“This is way better than any restaurant would have been,” you say to Seungmin. “Nothing comes close to instant noodles.”
“I guess you have a point,” Seungmin voices back. “They also don’t have melon soda.”
“There you go!” You chime in with light laughter. “And the hostesses probably wouldn’t have called us a beautiful couple.”
Seungmin meets your gaze momentarily, a glint in his eyes as he watches you laugh. You’re so much easier to talk to than he’d initially assumed, much more easy going than the other girls he’s gone out with, and you genuinely seem to enjoy his company. He can’t help but feel his heart flutter at how much you’ve managed to save him from an otherwise embarrassing evening.
“You’re so much… cooler, than I thought you’d be,” he says suddenly. “I mean- not that I thought you’d be uncool. You’re just cool-er, if that makes sense?”
You chuckle lightly, nodding at Seungmin’s words. “You’re pretty cool, too. I haven’t had a date this fun in a long time.”
Seungmin shoots you a toothy grin, and then he feels it- a big, wet, raindrop, grazing the skin on his cheek as he stares at you. Both of you crane your necks to look up, and just as he’d suspected, it begins to rain, harsh raindrops pelting down over you both and making your food and your clothes damp.
“Great,” Seungmin says in a defeated tone. “Just great. Of course nothing could go right for five fucking minutes. I don’t even have an umbrella-”
“It’s okay,” you say again, shielding your eyes with one hand. “It’s just a little rain. It’s not going to kill us.”
Seungmin doesn’t take his gaze off yours, furrowing his brows at the way you seem to remain so calm even when nothing seems to be going right.
“This doesn’t bother you?” Seungmin asks, also shielding his eyes from the cold rain that falls over you both.
“No,” you respond, stringy pieces of hair falling into your face as you speak. “It’s kind of nice, actually, being here with you.”
And Seungmin feels his heart flutter again, a small smile creeping on his face as you speak, like the world around you is at constant peace when he’s near. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt with somebody before, putting his mind at ease when you’re looking at him with eyes full of curiosity and infatuation.
“You have something,” you say to Seungmin, as a strand of hair weighs down into his eyesight and drips onto his cheek.
“Right here,” you finish, leaning forward to tuck the strand of hair out of his face.
And as you do, you can’t help but lean in to press your lips against his, placing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips, his eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you do. You stay like that for several moments, your lips locked to his as you caress his cheek tenderly with your hand. And when you pull away, Seungmin’s expression is both confused, yet calm, and radiant.
“Sorry,” you say quickly. “I’ve never had the overwhelming urge to kiss someone like that before.”
But Seungmin shakes his head quickly, reassuring you with his words.
“No, no,” he responds. “I really liked it. I… kinda wish you’d do it again.”
And you smile as you lean into him once more, the raindrops that linger on your lips joining into one puddle of rain between the two of you as you kiss him again, smiling against him under sheets of rain.
Seungmin tilts his face the other way to kiss you even deeper, and a loud phone call from his pocket startles you both, Seungmin pulling away to glance at his pocket.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling his phone out to silence it. “I’ll just turn it off-”
“You can get it,” you say to him, wiping rain from your lips with a smile. “I can wait.”
Seungmin glances at the caller ID, furrowing his brows as he presses the green button and brings the phone to his ear.
“Mr. Kim,” the voice on the other line says. “I apologize, there was some mistake with your reservation. I see your name here in the books if you want to return, and on behalf of the staff we all-”
The hostess can’t even finish before Seungmin is hanging up, shoving his phone back into his pocket.
“Who was it?” You ask, taking note of his frustrated demeanor.
“The restaurant,” he replies with a chuckle. “They say my name is in the books, after all.”
You wave him off with a gesture of your hand, shaking your head at him with a smile. “Yeah, well, they don’t have melon soda. Or free cookies.”
“Yeah,” Seungmin replies. “And the rain is kinda nice.”
He meets your gaze with a smile, leaning in to kiss you once more, as the sheets of rain continue to come down above you.
And the shop owner peers out the window with a gentle smile, admiring the innocent love shared so visibly between the two of you.
Beautiful couple, she thinks to herself, for the second time tonight.
[ ᴛᴀɢs: @drhsthl , @straykeedz-recs , @caitlyn98s , @moonlinos , @cottonsthings , @jaykyo , @write143 , @pinkcinnamon444 , @maximumkillshot , @auraleeknow , @skzms @coastalmaine , @venomracha , @lmhcats , @felinows , @maexc , @liinoracha , @sealovesbts , @hanniessleepyeyes , @chans1aptop , @kbbok , @silentreadersthings , @beomkgyu , @diorrxluvskz , @jeannie-beannie , @heeseungshim , @weareapackofstrays , @bethanysnow , @inlovewithmusician , @kite-lee , @heartheartisa , @katsukis1wife , @minhosbitterriver , @y-ur--i , @seung-mine , @sskzlover , @crisle19 , @binniesbang , @leritzreyw , @lixiesundrop , @vsereniasstuff , @fun-fanfics , @awillowbent , @unstiqn , @cutiespaghetti , @msaddictions , @ihrtlix , @yevene ]
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steveshairychest · 1 year
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Eddie gets Steve for the party's secret santa and instead of just going out and buying him a present, Eddie spends the whole month making something personal for him, something to remind Steve that he is absolutely adored by the people around him. He's seen the way Steve dismisses any and all comments from the kids about how awesome he is, he's seen the way Steve curls in on himself whenever he's complimented or praised and it hurts to see.
No matter what they say, Steve doesn't seem to get it through his thick skull that he is the party's centre of gravity. Everyone, including Eddie, finds themselves pulled in by Steve's overwhelming love and care. He is their sun. He drops anything and everything the second he's needed by anyone but if they offer the same to him, he shies away from it, brushes it off and says he can handle it. Eddie can't remember a time where Steve actually willingly accepted his help; he usually has to forcefully grab a grocery bag from Steve to stop him from trying to take them all inside himself.
So, for his present, Eddie decides to make him a book, a book filled with everything the party loves about him and everything they appreciate him doing. It's a big book of love and all that love is for Steve. Some of the kids fill pages and pages of things they love and appreciate about Steve, Dustin draws a whole coloured comic that spreads over 5 pages and some of them just fill one page but that's okay. Eddie and Robin write enough to fill the whole book; they actually have to add more pages to the book because there's no room for anyone else to write after Robin goes full sap mode.
Nancy writes one page but forbids anyone else to read it, says it's only for Steve to see and they respect that. They leave the page next to her's blank so that no one sees it. Eddie's only mildly surprised when Jonathan asks to write in the book. He doesn't write a lot but from his sneaky glances, Eddie can tell Jonathan is extremely grateful for everything Steve's done for the kids.
When it comes time to actually give the gift to Steve, Eddie is extremely nervous. He's scared he's overstepped, that it's going to make Steve uncomfortable. Maybe he should have just gotten him that cute sweater or made him a mixtape.
Eddie opens his gift, it's a custom hellfire guitar pick and new strings; stuff he'd only talked about around Robin. He smiles knowingly at her but she acts the fool, pretends she has no idea who his secret santa was but her giant smile gives her away.
And then Steve is reaching for his present and Eddie feels like he's going to pass out. Everyone's smiling and shoving each other excitedly as Steve tears the wrapping paper off but all Eddie can do is nervously look between the present and Steve, watching for the slightest hint that it's too much, that Steve doesn't like it.
The room is so silent, the only sound is pages turning and Eddie's almost panicked breathing as Steve reads through every single page without looking at anyone in the room. He can't get a read on him, can't figure out if he loves it or hates it and then Steve's crying, his chest heaving as he gently closes the book and covers his face with his hands, tries to hide himself away from everyone. Oh, God he made Steve cry on Christmas. He feels like absolute shit.
"Steve, I'm sorry -" He doesn't get to finish because Steve pulls him into a hug so tight he can barely breathe. He feels Steve's tears soak through his shirt as he cries into Eddie's chest and Eddie can do nothing but hold him and try to read Robin's lips as she tries to communicate something to him from across the room. "Spoiler alert, I was your secret santa, but I can't tell if you hate or like your present. Just tell me straight up, I don't mind." Eddie whispers into his hair as he gently rocks them side to side. The book he made for Steve sits discarded beside them and from this angle, Eddie can see that Steve dog tagged a few of the pages. He'd been too focused on watching Steve's reaction to notice him do it.
Steve sniffs and pulls back, his eyes red and puffy. "I loved it." He moves away from Eddie and sits back in his original spot so that he can see all his friends, see all the people that filled a book with words he never thought he deserved to hear. "I really loved it. Thank you. I especially love the comic where I fight 40 demodogs even though I'm pretty sure it was only like 4." He says this while smiling at Dustin, who puffs his chest out with pride and boasts about being Steve's favourite part of the book.
"I think I wrote a whole novel in there." Robin says while scooting closer to Steve so that she can rest her head on her best friend's shoulder. "Did you even read all of it?"
Steve rests his head against hers and points to the dog tagged page in the book. "I've saved it for later. I didn't want to get snot and tears all over the page."
"Ew, you're disgusting." She shoves at him playfully but Steve catches her arm and pulls her into a hug, a hug that they both relax into, a hug that says a million things no one but them will understand.
Eddie feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he knows the present wasn't one big mistake. He doesn't know if Steve read the pages he wrote, doesn't know if Steve will feel the same, doesn't know if confessing his feelings in a secret santa present was the right way to go but he can't bring himself to regret it. Seeing the way Steve pulls all of his friends into a hug and whispers something to all of them, something only meant for that person to hear, brings a warmth to his chest.
He hopes that Steve understands now. He hopes that having all of their love for him in physical form helps him realise that he is more than just a babysitter, more than a human shield, more than a bad ex boyfriend.
And to Eddie, he's more than a friend. He poured his entire heart into that book and he hopes that Steve will handle the pages carefully and that when he's ready, he'll answer the question Eddie wrote on the last page of the book.
'Will you let me love you?'
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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King For A Day
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Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader
Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger
You want a martyr? I’ll be one.
Summary:
You have always had a special relationship with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the one and only Harry Potter.
When you set out to help them find and destroy Lord Voldemort's Horcruxes, it seems that your intimate knowledge of them is the one thing keeping them together - until the unique dynamic shifts, thanks to one of those pesky pieces of dark magic.
Angry voices carry, and it turns out - moans of pleasure do too.
Poly!Golden Trio x Fem!Reader (Fem!Reader x Harry Potter x Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger). FWB to Poly Lovers. Smut (with a slight bit of Angst). Set during Deathly Hallows.
Word Count: 22,400
Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: This fic is about the formation of a polyamarous relationship, and before that, the reader has individual friends with benefits relationships with each of the Golden Trio without them knowing about each other; there is dom/sub dynamics in this fic, but no explicit BDSM play - Hermione is a switch (bratty sub and controlling but soft dom), Ron is a rough, mean dom, Harry is a whiny, needy sub, and the reader is a switch - she is submissive with Ron and Hermione, but dominant towards Harry. While the reader is the one who connects all the characters here, there is definitely threads of Harry x Ron and Hermione x Ron and also Hermione x Harry going on here. (So there is wlw action and mlm action in this fic.)
Emotional angst - general emotional angst due to the circumstances (the Golden Trio + reader being pressured to save the world, the war going on, emotional and physical isolation during the Horcrux Hunt); mentions of food insecurity as was canon during the Horcrux Hunt; mentions of becoming thin from lack of food being available; mentions of hunting and killing for food; mentions of emotional disturbances due to the presence of the Horcrux Locket - everyone is affected, including the reader; the reader experiences severe depression and intrusive thoughts about self-harm while wearing The Locket (this is something that is a very small part of the story, about a paragraph); the reader is mentioned to be in Gryffindor but because this is a Horcrux Hunting fic that fact is easy to ignore and you can imagine the reader to be in whatever house you want; mentions of Ron and the reader being childhood friends/growing up together before Hogwarts (it is mentioned that they had their first kiss together when they were young); mentions of past Harry/Cho (as a very fleeting fling, as it was in the canon).
For the actual smut: unprotected sex all around? but hey they're wizards so we could just say that Hermione did some anti-pregnancy spells when they were done (but there's definitely no condoms involved); the reader masturbates/touches herself (very brief); the reader gets caught masturbating by Harry but they both pretend that he didn't see anything (or maybe he didn't); mentions of Harry, Ron, and Hermione masturbating (mentioned in passing); Ron being possessive over the reader, partially due to the Locket's emotional influence; slightly dubious consent - it's very clear in the narration that the reader enjoys everything that is happening, but Ron does not explicitly ask for consent, and while Harry watches on, he worries for her well being due to the roughness of the acts; Ron is very rough with the reader because the Locket amps up his anger and he takes out on her (through rough sex, not through overly harsh painplay or sexual torture); hair pulling (Ron pulls the reader's hair); rough kissing; biting/marking (Ron bites the reader so hard that he draws blood); Ron slaps the reader across the face (only once) but it adds sexual arousal for her; some manhandling (nothing that implies Ron is superhumanly strong or implies that the reader is dainty thin).
Vaginal fingering (Ron does this to the reader); undertones of humiliation kink (Ron teases Harry for not knowing 'how to fuck' and because he can supposedly fuck the reader better); literally one spank (from Ron to the reader); size kink (Ron Weasley has a big cock and everyone is admiring it); unprotected penis in vagina sex (between Ron and the reader) - very rough sex; Harry watches while Ron fucks the reader; Ron calls the reader 'cockwarmer' and 'good girl'; Hermione walks in on Ron fucking the reader (while Harry watches) and questions the consent of the situation (only for a moment) before she decides to join in; Hermione gropes the reader and fingers her; there is unprotected penis in vagina sex between Ron and Hermione and also between Harry and the reader; unintentional edging due to being passed from partner to partner (toward the reader); Ron is generally degrading/condescending toward all the other characters (he's kind of an asshole but it's hot and he is sweet afterwards); creampie kink (no breeding kink); overstimulation; multiple orgasms; mentions of anal sex (does not happen during the fic); Hermione eats the reader out, Harry sucks Ron off (mentions of 'choking' on a cock but there is no severe breathplay), cumplay.
Sex flashbacks - the reader cockwarms Harry (in a flashback); the reader riding Harry while being dominant with him; the reader uses Harry's Gryffindor tie like a leash; the reader 'teaching' Harry how to increase his stamina (really, it's just code for edging him/torturing him); the reader calls Harry 'darling'; in a separate flashback - Hermione and the reader have sex in the bathroom at the Burrow; so - semi-public sex; the reader eats Hermione's pussy; the reader fingers Hermione; Hermione presses on the reader's neck but does not choke her; Hermione calls the reader 'good girl'. I think that is FINALLY it.
A/N: The title of this fic comes from a song of the same title by Pierce The Veil. I think it's a song that so perfectly encapsulates the storyline around the Locket - how Ron makes himself into a martyr, how it feels like they are living with ghosts in the walls when they wear it. Anyway - I am so excited about this fic.
When the idea was presented to me: Ron being pissed off because of the Locket's influence, and feeling particularly jealous of Harry, it just felt so genius. Ron has always been one of my favourite HP characters, if not my singular favourite. When I first start reading and watching the series, I fell in love with Ron so quickly. I deeply related to him - his insecurities, his fears (how he doesn't try to act brave when he's scared), his stubbornness, his feelings of inadequacy.
This fic perfectly encapsulates my love for Ron, and with something I couldn't resist the urge to do (the whole 'childhood friends' thing) - my deep urge to be Ron Weasley's special girl has bubbled to the surface harder than ever before. But with maturity comes the urge to also want to be Harry Potter's special girl and Hermione Granger's special girl all at the same time and have them share me like a KitKat bar. So everyone please thank Orgy Anon for giving me this idea, and please enjoy the fic!!
Also, I didn't think I was ever gonna write more rough, demanding (kind of asshole) Ron smut after Caffeine Cold - but it's something that weirdly works for his character. It's something I actually really love writing with him, turns out lmao.
...
When you woke up that morning, there was a persistent, annoying ache between your legs. Even the bitter November chill that had seeped into the tent couldn’t dampen it. 
It was a strange and tedious thing. You were months into a perilous, life-threatening mission that would ultimately change the fate of the world, and yet, all you could seem to think about was the fact that you hadn’t been able to orgasm in weeks. You could blame it on the mental strain that the journey was causing on you and your companions - between the lack of food and the presence of a certain dark object weighing on you all, irritability among your small group was skyrocketing. And you were desperate for a distraction. 
But you had always been someone who was more inclined toward the physical - someone whose sexual needs stuck out as more important to you. It’s why you had three different partners regularly ‘servicing’ you for quite some time now. But you hadn’t been with any of them since the start of your travels, and it felt like far too long. It felt like forever. 
You reached down and palmed your cunt through your cotton sleep pants, hissing quietly through your nose at even the slightest bit of relief. You listened to Ron’s heavy snores and Hermione’s quiet breaths, knowing that Harry was out of the tent on his watch. If you could be quick about it, you could cum. You clamped the other hand over your mouth, ready to silence your own moans as you moved your own touch past your waistband. You let out a sharp whine into your own palm as your fingers found your clit through your cotton underwear. 
It had been so long. 
And just by that fact alone, your pussy was aching, wet, and needy. You began to rub circles on yourself through your underwear, feeling your cunt clenching around nothing, so damn needy to be filled up, and- 
“Y/N?” Harry’s voice whispered your name frantically through the dark. 
The sound instantly startled you, causing your lungs to seize up and your heart to race all at once. You stopped moving your hand upon instinct, feeling terribly caught. 
It was lucky that he hadn’t lit his wand, clearly not wanting to wake up Ron or Hermione, or you most definitely would have been caught outright, even though your hand was under the blanket - your actions still would have been blatant to the eye. 
“Are you alright? I thought - I thought I heard a noise.” Harry whispered when you didn’t respond. 
You quickly cleared your throat, taking your hand away from your mouth and slowly moving your other hand out of your pants as you found the glinting lenses of Harry’s glasses looking at you in the dark. 
“I’m fine.” You croaked quietly. “I - I was just stretching. This cot is terrible on my back, you know.” 
You hoped that you could pass off any sexual sounds that had escaped you as sounds of pain, soreness from poor sleeping conditions. 
Harry nodded. 
“Right.” He said quietly. “Well - it’s your watch.” He announced as he sat down on his own cot and began taking off his boots. 
You didn’t say anything further, but simply got up. 
You changed out of your pyjama pants and into a thicker pair of cargo pants, wanting to shield yourself against the cold. As you undressed, you were completely uncaring to shield yourself from Harry’s eyes in the dark. He was likely too tired to keep his eyes open, and it was dark enough that he wouldn’t see too much of you anyway. And if he did look, you didn’t care too much anyway. 
He watched you completely unabashed, squinting hard through the darkness, utterly focused on the shape of your ass moving around as you looked for thicker socks and gathered a notebook to write in to pass the time. 
He only wished that he could see more than the silhouette of your ass covered by white cotton panties as you moved in the shadows, pulling your pants up, and then left the tent. He went to sleep with his cock hard, thinking about pressing himself up against those cotton knickers, dirtying the fabric with his cum - thinking about hearing you whine like that again. 
You didn’t think that tracking down and destroying all of Voldemort’s Horcruxes was going to be easy by any means. 
But you didn’t think that it was going to be this tedious and boring. You knew that there were a great many wizards out there who yearned for your head on a platter. People who would have captured you in a moment and tortured you until your dying breath just for a chance to hear you give up information on Harry Potter’s whereabouts. But it was difficult to feel the urgency of the life threatening situation you were in when you were living in such seclusion. 
It was difficult to feel anything other than the crushing weight of loneliness and depression, living like this. 
For nearly three months now, you, Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been living in a tent, picking up and travelling from place to place with the effort to be as isolated as possible so that no one would be able to find you. But this meant that no one you loved could know where you were either. 
No owls, no contact with anyone else in the outside world - you went from day to day, not knowing if they were safe or not, waiting to hear their names on the obituaries, or the missing persons listings on the radio. 
All of you had been living off scraps of food because you couldn’t even go to the shops for fear of being seen. You had been living off the canned food Hermione had squirrelled away before the trip, and you had been reduced to stealing - nicking eggs from chicken coops in hopes that the owners wouldn’t notice. Luckily, some things from your childhood had come back around, and you had been able to snare some rabbits for food, as much as Hermione cried and tried to pretend she didn’t hate killing something so cute and innocent in order to eat it. 
So far, the only real progress the four of you had made in terms of truly defeating Voldemort? You had gotten a hold of the real Locket of Slytherin. But you had no clue how to destroy it. 
This left you stuck with the incredibly dark piece of magic. The four of you took turns wearing the Locket - even though it hadn’t taken Hermione long to observe that the object had some kind of dangerous emotional aura due to the dark magic that tainted it. But you were unable to simply leave it laying around somewhere in case it got misplaced, which would have been intensely foolish. 
You had to keep it close in the more likely case that the group had to run off in a hurry if you were confronted. It was too precious of an object to lose - perfect leverage to bargain with if one of you did happen to get captured, and ultimately critical to your overall mission. 
Unfortunately, the isolation and general bickering between you and your companions left you aching for a distraction. Although you were surviving day to day and trying to balance the fate of Muggle and Wizard kind in your hands, food and safety and progressing the mission were your greatest concerns. 
But there was a certain loneliness that crept in. 
Living in the tent like this - physically, it was the closest you had ever been with your three best friends for such a period of time. Although the three of you had lived in the Gryffindor Tower during your six years at Hogwarts, and you had shared a dormitory with Hermione, it had never been like this before. 
The three of you had never shared such close quarters day in and day out for so long without some kind of break for other things - meal times, classes, Quidditch practice, time spent with other friends. It was a large tent, but it was an intensely cramped space for four people to be packed into, especially with the Locket and the depressing atmosphere and the emotional pressure of the mission causing tempers to flare up. 
It was a Herculean test of your friendship, that was for certain. 
Each of you were coping in your own ways. 
Harry was pouting. 
It was something that he did best, in your experience. He was a chronic pouter, as you had discovered over the years of knowing him. Whenever a bad mood overtook him (which was, unfortunately too often due to the unfortunate circumstances that haunted his life), he could mull around and pout for days, sit in sullen silences without talking to anybody with a grand stubbornness. 
He would do it until the loneliness truly broke him, or until someone broke the barrier of stubbornness and talked to him first. (The ladder was more likely to happen when you were around. You hated to see him pouting and you usually always approached him first.) 
Usually his pouting came with locking himself in a room, a purposeful isolation from others when he needed them most. Like when he had locked himself in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place for nearly the entirety of winter break when he believed that Voldemort was corrupting his mind with the evil dreams.
This time around, he had taken to sitting in corners by himself, as far away as he could get from the three of you in the cramped space. He ate his small meals alone without talking to anyone, speaking as few words as possible and only grunting out small responses when asked questions like ‘are you going to sleep now?’ or ‘are you going to take watch next?’. 
He had also taken to pulling out the Marauders’ Map often. He studied it with astute eyes as though it was going to tell him something important. But you guessed that he was simply watching over your friends at Hogwarts like some godly protective force. Even though he couldn’t intervene if anything bad happened to them, he felt like the weight of the world was already on his shoulders, so he guessed that he should be watching over people like a god in the sky too. 
Hermione, of course, was reading. 
Whenever there was trouble, Hermione Granger had her hands on a book. 
She found comfort in knowledge, comfort in pouring over books looking for the answers to her problems. Naturally, this was no different. 
When she had packed for the journey, she had brought along every possible book she could find about dark magic and the subject of immortality. Any reading material she could possibly get her hands on that might mention Horcruxes, how to find them, and more importantly - how to destroy them. 
And thus far, even though all her reading had come up empty, she still took a pile of books in her arms every night and read through them, often sacrificing sleep in the name of staying up to continue her search for answers. Some of those books she had read over two or three times before that she was rereading again now, developing a kind of madness over searching them cover to cover, looking for something. 
It was clear to you that she felt an intense pressure - most of it, she was putting on herself. She thought that her brilliant mind, her stubborn ability to continue on despite nothing turning up would be the thing that finally solved the issue. She thought that it had to be her. She had helped Harry so many times before, so of course - it had to be her. 
You were someone who coped by comforting others. 
This is where the loneliness became even worse, because the more you tried to fuss over Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the more they pushed you away. The more you chased them down in small ways - putting blankets over them, trying to provide small comforting touches, trying to have small conversations just to satiate your own loneliness, even yearning for a short cuddle, the more they shrugged you off and the more each small rejection stung right to your core. 
Even though you were yearning for some affection, you knew consciously that they weren’t there to simply fulfil your needs. You knew that they weren’t actually ‘yours’ in that sense, not in a way that would demand them giving you attention just on the basis of your loneliness. As much as you had dreamed of it being that way, it simply wasn’t true. 
But you found yourself aching more and more after each rejection, knowing how incredibly stubborn the three of them were. Maybe they were yearning for the affection too, but they were too stubborn to show it on the surface. But maybe, they truly didn’t need it. They were hardened stones, and you were a delicate flower. Even though it hurt you, it was why the four of you had always worked so well. 
You had always softened their edges. Every single major argument that had gone on between them, any bickering between Ron and Harry, or Harry and Hermione, or Ron and Hermione, or god forbid, a blow-up between all three of them - it was something you had been able to reign in and calm down. You had always gotten them to calm down and ignore their worst impulses, and simply talk it out. At the end of the day, you always got them to apologise to each other. 
And of course - there was the sex. 
As far as you knew, no single person in the group knew that you were ‘involved’ with the others in that special, intimate way. They all thought that they were the only one. They all thought that you only had platonic, completely friendly relationships with the others. Even though you made no effort to hide it. You would still flirt with them, compliment them, cuddle them out in the open, hold hands. 
But it was something that had never been discussed, and at certain points, they had emphasised hiding the sexual aspects of your relationship and jumped apart from kissing you or groping you when one of your other dear friends came into the room. So you never pushed to open that can of worms and start a big argument over it because things were good. There was a balance to it, a silent status quo. 
It’s not like you set out to be some scamming harlet. Most definitely not. 
Each of your individual relationships with them mattered to you so much. You loved them in such special and unique ways. But they were all so stubborn, and they acted like kissing and sex was some grand secret that needed to be locked away from the world and could never be discussed with anyone else. So as long as you kept those secrets, they never knew about each other. It turned into threads of private time, special bonds that you built with each individual person. 
And now, living so closely with all of them, it left you feeling so intensely stuck. 
You had three of the greatest people so close to you, and if you asked one of them to fuck you in the name of sexual relief, then the other two would be offended. It would be incredibly difficult to sneak off for a secret romp like you used to, because you were supposed to stay close and keep an eye on each other for safety. 
So this left you with your own hand. You knew that when you touched yourself, you weren’t quiet, and you weren’t quick. You had tried a few times so far during the trip, and it had only left you more wanting when you had failed to cum for fear of being caught. It left you needier than ever when you had been interrupted by someone else’s presence - someone waking up or walking into the tent, and stopped because you didn’t want them to catch you. 
There had even been times when you had woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of Harry or Ron wanking, grunting roughly in the darkness, and it burned up your insides so badly that you practically wanted to beg them for cock. But you didn’t want to embarrass them by outing their ‘secret’ relationship with you to the other two, so all you could do was lay there and let the flames of your arousal burn you up. 
You had no clue how Hermione had gone so long without touching herself. You guessed that she was either doing so off in the woods during her ‘reading time’, when she thought that she wouldn’t be disturbed, or she was too afraid of possibly being caught in order to even try. She was a lustful person, you knew that from experience. But oftentimes, her rule oriented mind won-out and kept her from doing truly mannerless things (like letting you touch her under a desk during class, much to your disappointment). 
The more time you spent in such close proximity to them, the more you craved their touches. You knew that you were going to break soon. And you were going to do something truly mannerless. 
In the meantime - you sat in the cold, early morning darkness, keeping an eye out for danger that likely wouldn’t come because it didn’t know where to find you. And as you kept watch, you tried your best not to think about the hot ache between your legs. 
… 
You had managed to spend most of the day distracted from your… cravings. 
You spent the morning on watch, watching the sun kiss the sky orange and break beams of light through the trees. It was nice to go from ice cold, your fingers numb in the darkness to feeling the warmth wake up around you. It made you feel alive. 
When you were supposed to switch off with Ron, you continued to sit with him for a while. You smiled at his sleepy state - his hair messy and his eyes barely open as he forced himself to be up and about. When he yawned wide, he truly reassembled a lion with a wild red mane. 
You actually managed to hook him into a pleasant conversation about some of your childhood memories. He pointed out that one of the trees nearby looked primed for a treehouse. You smiled and reminded him of the treehouse that the Burrow used to have before Fred and George blew it up. This easily spiralled into a long conversation about nights that the two of you had spent camping in that treehouse looking at the stars, and a time where the two of you had technically had your first kiss when you were ten years old. 
This left Ron with a smile on his face, which made you happy. You left with a kiss on the cheek while Hermione hollered your name through the tent flap, needing your for something else. She wanted your help to translate something from one of the books - something written in a different language that she didn’t know that you just happened to be very well versed in. After you spent some time helping her with this, she gave you a small smile and a nod and then rushed off to look up something in another book, seemingly pursuing a lead - which pleased you. 
And then it was time to help Harry prepare the evening meal. It wasn’t much; just some canned soup and a few pieces of bread. But Harry came out of his pouting long enough to make a joke about how you were a ‘five-star chef’ and when you giggled brightly at this, he gave you a genuine smile back. 
It was officially upgraded from a good day to a fantastic one when you actually managed to gather everyone at the table for dinner. Harry wasn’t off pouting in the corner, Hermione wasn’t sitting in her bed or off outside propped against a tree with a book in hand. Though she did read through the entire meal, you still considered it a win. And although Ron only ate half his food before not-so-subtly scooping the rest into your bowl with a grunt of ‘not hungry’ (the biggest lie you had ever heard in your life) - you were glad that no arguments had broken out at the table. 
Ron giving you his food was something that had been happening more and more lately. 
See, Ron’s method of coping was more complex than Harry’s or Hermione’s, or even yours. And it was something that could only be quantified if you watched him very carefully. It was likely only something you could name because you had known him for so long, and you had seen him do this so often throughout the years. 
Ron was someone who suffered. 
It was strange to put a name to, but that’s what it was. In all the years you had known him, whenever Ron found himself in emotionally troubling times, he put himself through purposeful suffering - a kind of martyrdom - in order to cope. 
Back when you were kids, a few months before his eleventh birthday, he had been so worried that his Hogwarts letter wasn’t going to arrive. He convinced himself that he simply wasn’t good enough - that somehow, even though his parents and all of his brothers before him had gotten their letters, he just wasn’t going to get one. 
He worked himself into such a frenzy about it that he spent hours doing the most difficult, painstaking house chores that he could think of, simply to prove to himself that he was useful. And to perform some suffering because that was how he coped with the anxiety and the emotional pain. After his letter came, when the worry left him, he didn’t bother with any more chores. He didn’t make his bed for weeks, no matter how much his Mum nagged him to do so. 
After Harry’s name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire and Harry was named the Fourth Champion - that was one of the worst states you had ever seen Ron in. (And Harry, but in a different way.) 
Hermione thought that Ron went cold on Harry because he was angry with Harry. But you saw it for what it truly was - Ron was trying to end the friendship because he thought that he didn’t deserve Harry as a friend. The Tournament was presented as a chance for eternal glory, riches, praise. And Ron was being reminded yet again how entirely unremarkable he was. So he wanted to sink lower. He wanted to be as unremarkable as the Malfoys and everyone else told him he was. He didn’t even want to be associated with Harry - the wondrous fourth champion, if it meant getting a modicum of praise for it. 
But as usual with Ron, his own insecurities presented as annoyance, and anger toward other people. He pretended to be mad at Harry for not giving him the ‘secret’ of putting his name in the cup. 
Ron went for weeks without talking to Harry. Not as a punishment to Harry, but as a punishment to himself. In reality, he was dying inside, not being able to talk to his best friend. He wanted to berate Harry with questions about the process of the Triwizard Tournament, he wanted to become excited with his best friend about the whole thing. 
He told you at one point that he would have even preferred to hash out the whole argument, loudly, and simply have it over with. But he froze out Harry with bitter silence, simply because he felt that he deserved the pain of being separated from his best friend. 
After a few nights of contemplation, Ron had realised he was wrong to blame Harry for it. It was a short-sighted response out of anger. Really, what kind of numpty, especially Harry, who hated the attention, would willingly put their name into a death tournament? 
But still - he went on for weeks without talking to Harry, instead of simply apologising, because he felt that he deserved the punishment of being away from his best friend. He felt that he should be punished for being lowly and unremarkable, and for not simply believing Harry in the first place. 
Ron partook in suffering and self penance as a distraction from dealing with all of the true, deeper pain that he felt inside. 
And this time, his self imposed punishment came in the form of Slytherin’s Locket. 
The Locket affected all of you negatively. That much was clear within the first few days of the object being in your midst. 
When you put it on, you could best describe it as - heartbreak. A deep, awful ache in your chest that simply made you sad more than anything else. It made you want to burst out crying at any moment, it made you feel as though any happy thing had gone from the world, and any goodness you once knew would never be possible again. You would almost compare it to the feeling of a Dementor’s presence, though it didn’t come with the bitter chill in the air or the horrible memories flashing through your mind. 
Often, this came with a terrible headache - pressure building under your skull, almost as if your brain was bubbling into soup between your ears. At times, it made it difficult for you to focus on anything other than the heartache, in an almost dizzying way. 
Sometimes, when you wore it for too long, it… made you want to hurt yourself. It made your skin feel too tight and made your mind screech with the most horrible thoughts. Thoughts you almost couldn’t ignore. Ideas like - tearing all of your skin off, revealing the bloody viscera underneath. Telling you that would be the only possible way to make that horrible feeling go away. That part was something you had never told the others, and probably never would. 
Hermione guessed that your more ‘sensitive’ nature was what made the Locket trigger sadness in you, rather than irritability or anger. It gave Hermione a more quiet, reserved anger - a contemplative rage that you had only seen in her before she had trapped Rita Skeeter inside that jar. 
And for Harry and Ron - it made them snap. It put them on edge, made them entirely irritable. But with Harry, likely because of his tolerance toward things like the Imperius Curse - it took much longer of wearing the Locket for those feelings to truly affect him. 
Ron seemed to be the most vulnerable to its effects, unfortunately. 
You wouldn’t say that he was weaker, not by far. You would say that he had a tender heart, and a very unfortunate tendency to ignore his heart’s greatest needs. Ron was someone who was always harder on himself, he criticised every inch of himself far more than others did. Every ounce of pain that he felt - he didn’t let himself truly feel it. He turned it bitter, he released it as annoyance, or rage, or resentment. 
The Locket clearly felt that in him, and took advantage of it. The Locket knew that Ron had never truly dealt with his pain, so much negative emotion stored up inside of him, and the Locket was feasting on Ron like a buffet of negativity. It certainly didn’t help that Ron kept volunteering to wear it for longer and longer periods of time - wallowing in his martyrdom, desperate to keep you from taking your turn because he couldn’t stand to see you crying again. 
(He had said to you before that if you weren’t crying on his cock, then there was never a good reason for you to. And he would punch any prat in the face who caused those tears but him.) 
As you helped Ron clean up the dishes from the evening meal, Harry took the Marauders’ Map and went back to the camping chair that he had planted in his usual pouting corner. Though tonight the energy coming off him didn’t seem nearly as foul as he muttered ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good’ and began pouring over every inch of the map as he usually did. 
Hermione gathered some books off her cot with a huff and began to walk toward the mouth of the tent, clearly going out to take her watch. She had told you before that even as it got cold, she enjoyed the isolation of sitting outside the tent alone - she enjoyed the peace and quiet. 
You weren’t sure why you bothered, but you stepped toward her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder to stop her for a moment. 
“Do you want some help with those books?” You asked. “Maybe a second pair of eyes looking that stuff over could be useful.” 
“No. I’d like to be alone, thank you.” Hermione replied. 
Even though it was a relatively polite sentence, she delivered it in the most curt, edging on snide manner possible. Clearly she was eager to have her alone time as the tent flaps bellowed behind her in a comically speedy way as she left the tent. 
You felt a pang of hurt at her words, but you certainly understood where she was coming from. 
You turned back to help Ron finish up the dishes, thinking nothing more of it. 
But it was his next words that inadvertently set off a hurricane. 
“That’s so Hermione isn’t it?” Ron scoffed. “So damn stubborn that she would turn down such a perfectly polite invitation for help. Needs to do every bloody thing by herself.” 
“It’s fine, Ron.” You sighed quietly, taking the last bowl from him to dry it off with a dish towel. “I under-” 
You were about to take up your usual job - mediating any potential conflicts or sore spots between the group. But your words were cut off when Harry’s annoyed voice came from behind you. 
“Yes, Ron, because you’ve been so bloody helpful lately.” Harry griped, his tone entirely sarcastic. “It’s not surprising that Hermione is used to working on her own. You don’t have to sit around and criticise her while she does it.” 
Ron whipped around then, fixing Harry tightly in a dangerous glare while he pretended to be more interested in the Map. He kept looking at the thick enchanted parchment in his lap while Ron bitterly spat out a reply. 
“Oh yes, because you’ve been wracking your fuckin’ brain, actively working on solutions, now have you?” Ron argued back, his voice rough and rude as you had ever heard him. Obviously, he was bitter over the insinuation that he wasn’t helping. “Sitting around staring at that bloody map all day, what’s that gonna do?” 
Ron’s words, his harsh tone even stung you. 
You rushed to step between him and Harry, even though Harry was still sitting in his brooding chair, attempting to seem unphased. He was putting up a wall of calm, not giving Ron the response that he so desperately wanted. Ron wanted Harry to be just as frustrated and aggravated as he was. Rather than sitting back calmly and spitting well-calculated sass. 
But you hoped that it wouldn’t get to that point. If they were both angry, you wouldn’t be able to interfere. You wouldn’t be able to get their attention off of anything but pissing each other off more until it fizzled out on its own - or until Hermione stepped in. Which would be the worst possible result. 
You needed to direct Ron’s attention away from the argument so that it wouldn’t blow up into a massive fight. 
“Ron, let’s go for a walk?” You posed, gently putting your hand on his cheek, trying to get him to look at you. “Come on, let’s go get some fresh air.” 
He was still glaring at Harry with a harsh bite in his jaw. You could feel the rage grinding his teeth together under your touch. It was something that made you nauseous. 
Ron didn’t reply to your request before Harry spoke up again. 
“I spend so much time looking at the map because I’m making sure that the people we love are okay.” Harry explained, his voice dull. “Not that-” 
“They’re at Hogwarts, and we’re here.” Ron cut him off sharply, completely ignoring you and your attempts to get him away from the conversation, which was very quickly going off the rails. “Even if they’re in trouble, dying, what are you gonna do about it?” 
Harry inhaled sharply at this, but mustered no reply. 
You glanced over your shoulder at him, not taking your comforting touch off of Ron. You saw the depth of sadness swimming in his eyes at this. You knew this was something that cut him deep. 
He looked at the Map every single day because he could rest slightly better knowing that the people he loved - Ginny, Neville, Luna, Seamus, Dean - were safe. He liked to watch them walk the halls, attend their classes, go about a routine. But if they did come into some kind of danger, he had no clue how he would stop it. He couldn’t stop it. That idea was something he had considered, time and time again. And it hurt him greatly. He couldn’t do anything until he had secured and destroyed all the Horcruxes - something you were nowhere near close to doing. 
You thought perhaps this would be the end of the argument. That Harry would go back to brooding quietly and Ron would take you up on that offer to go for a walk. But your hope fizzled away when Ron opened his mouth again. 
“I suppose The Great Harry Potter doesn’t need to work at things, now does he? Because every fuckin’ thing just falls into his lap, huh?” Ron sneered, sounding as though the words ‘Harry Potter’ tasted awful in his mouth. 
You knew that this wasn’t just about the Horcruxes, not by far. Ron was talking about so many things in life. Things that haunted him that he had never allowed himself to let go. 
The House Cup during their first year, Harry’s position on the Quidditch team, his Invisibility Cloak, the Triwizard Tournament - even the affections of girls and the admiration that came with his name. All things that Ron had long been jealous of that had literally fallen into Harry’s lap with no difficulty whatsoever. 
“Ron, please, let’s just go take a breather.” You begged. 
You hooked your fingers into the front of his thick woollen jumper, tempted to try pulling him out of the tent and away from Harry completely before things got worse. 
And then, things got worse. 
Harry burst like a game of Exploding Snap. He jumped up out of his chair suddenly with a shout, causing you to jolt while Ron kept glaring at him, unflinching. 
“Fuck off, Ron!” He screamed. “I would love it if my name could get us out of this mess! But right now, it seems more people in the world want me dead-!” 
Ron reached around you, pointing an accusing finger at Harry as he cut off the other man’s words with a shout of his own. 
“I wish I would have known that when I signed on to be your best friend years ago-!” 
“Best friend?” Harry repeated, halfway between a gasp and a sarcastic sneer. “Some friend you are. What have you done for me in the past few years aside from scream at me and gripe and complain?” 
“Stop it!” You shouted this time, whipping your head toward Harry, done with trying to haul Ron away. “Both of you, stop! You both love each other and this is nonsense!” 
It was the truth. But they were entirely blind to the truth right now.
Naturally, they both ignored you. 
“And what have you done for me, aside from nearly getting me killed?” Ron snapped back. 
“Ron, stop!” You squealed at him, trying once again to stop the fight. 
You had never seen any of their bickering or arguing come even close to the level of friendship ending. But under the circumstances, you feared that if it didn’t stop soon - this might be it. 
You dug your fingers into his jumper again, this time actually trying to haul him toward the mouth of the tent by force. He didn’t seem at all bothered by this - he simply continued engaging in a very fierce glaring contest with Harry. 
When his jumper stretched down slightly, you saw a glinting around his neck, and then you realised: 
He had been wearing the Locket for nearly two days now. 
You thought that Hermione was supposed to be taking her turn, that it was outside the tent with her and her books. But surely enough, when you reached inside his jumper, your hand came back with that green locket. As you looked at it, you found that the sight of it almost mocked you. 
“Ron, take it off.” You demanded sharply. “Come on, you don’t mean any of this, it’s just-” 
“Who says I don’t mean it?” Ron snapped, reaching up and batting your hands away from him. Surprisingly, he then tucked the Locket back inside his jumper, rather than taking it off. 
He was still actively punishing himself. And it was likely that Harry’s comment about him not being helpful was only playing into the toxic circus already going on in his mind that made him feel the need to wear it for longer. The Locket must have been loving the dark cloud of emotions that Ron was feeling right now. 
Harry took a step toward you and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you away from Ron. 
“Come on, Y/N, it’s no use talking to him. He’s being a complete idiot right now, he’s not going to listen.” 
Typically yes, that would be the case if Hermione or Harry tried to talk to him. When Ron was angry, their personalities did not mesh well. He would put up nothing but a wall of silence or brute stubbornness toward them. 
But when you talked to him, it was different. When he was greeted by your warm empathy, your gentle understanding, it was different. In the worst cases where you truly needed to break through to him, you ended up with your mouth on his cock to break that stubbornness. But either way, you would get him to listen to you, and eventually he would calm down and talk it out. 
Ron’s glare was like a sharp poison dagger, piercing the place where Harry’s hand met your shoulder. 
It seemed that those words from Harry’s mouth, so casually calling him an idiot, along with Harry’s touch on you - even though it was the most casual, platonic touch he could have performed. All of it brought Ron’s anger to a boiling rage, and under the influence of the Locket - he snapped. 
“Don’t touch her!” Ron growled. He reached around you and shoved Harry squarely in the chest in order to get him away from you. 
You would be lying if you said that the words and especially his tone carrying them didn’t send a distinct zap through your cunt, instantly awakening the lust you had been trying to push down all day. 
Harry let out a sharp gasp as Ron’s hand hit his chest, and stumbled backwards a few steps - partially because of how hard Ron had pushed him, and partially numb from shock. His fights with Ron had never turned physical before. He found himself flushed with fear, and not one due to intimidation of his best friend’s physical stature. He was afraid to potentially lose the friendship. He was afraid that he had taken things a step too far. 
You looked between the two of them, tingling with shock yourself, completely unsure what to say or do. You were tempted to shout for Hermione, but then Ron began speaking again and shocked you and Harry even further. 
“This may come as a surprise to you, Harry, but you don’t own everything in the goddamn world.” Ron said, spitting Harry’s name through his lips like it was a vile poison. 
Was he seriously insinuating that Harry put a hand on your shoulder because he thought that he owned you? 
Was Ron getting possessive over you? 
“Excuse me?” Harry squeaked out, clearly having as much difficulty processing the words as you were. 
If anything, Harry was jealous of your relationship with Ron. 
The two of you had been so close before even coming to Hogwarts. When Harry had seen the two of you idly chatting and laughing so hard that you could barely breathe when he had approached your train carriage during that first ride to Hogwarts, he had been purely intimidated. On that day, Harry had felt like he had no one in the world, like he was so damn alone, and Ron already had you as a best friend. 
Harry had always been jealous of the closeness that you had with Ron. The inside jokes from your childhood, the stories of the things you got up to as kids that he only heard about secondhand. Harry had always wished so hard, yearned deep in his heart that he could have grown up in the magical world so that he would have known Ron sooner and could have been his best friend for as long as you had. Every single time Harry arrived at the Burrow, you were already there, laughing it up with Ron, making him feel like he was the biggest third wheel to your already amazing friendship. 
To this day, Harry was still surprised that Ron gave him the title of best friend and not you. 
“Ron-?” You questioned numbly, and he cut you off. 
“You heard me.” Ron growled, his voice dark. 
It was something that made your stomach jump, a mixture of shock and lust flooding you. It made you numb and limp and turned you into a perfect ragdoll, your body entirely receptive to Ron’s next chaotic, unpredictable movements.
“She doesn’t belong to you.” Ron ground out, his throat scraping against the words in a gravelly way that made your pussy so wet. 
“I never said-” Harry gaped quietly in protest, but he cut himself off with a quiet gasp when he witnessed what his best mate did next.  
Ron threaded a hand into the back of your hair, a grip so strong and commanding, a touch that immediately said ‘I own you’. 
You released a small gasp in response, arching into his touch as shockwaves of pleasure pittered through you from this point - from feeling his large, strong hand gripping you there. He didn’t waste a moment before he ripped on your hair, forcing your head backwards so he could have a good angle to shove his mouth onto yours. 
Dizzy with the combination of pain and pleasure, your mouth so easily fell open to him. You had nothing but ripe, burning moans for him as his rough, unshaven face scratched against yours and his demanding tongue shoved past your lips. He was almost forcing you to choke on his presence as your needy lust came back with a vengeance, thumping hard between your thighs. 
Harry found himself confused. 
He was still so bitterly angry, that annoyance from the argument still sizzling through his veins. But he found his cock quickly swelling to hardness at the sight of Ron taking you so savagely, treating you to roughly, doing things to you that Harry had definitely never done. 
Harry was always soft with you. He didn’t know anything but softness when it came to his intimate time with you. Witnessing this was so absolutely hot, and Harry couldn’t deny that. He should have been more upset by this revelation - by the familiarity, by the natural way you just let Ron kiss you. 
Harry should have been jealous. He should have stormed away to brood at the fact that you had clearly been fucking Ron behind his back for as long as you had been fucking him. But he couldn’t find himself angry about that. He only found it to be a turn-on. 
Part of his brain screamed that he should have known all along. A girl as perfect as you wouldn’t have just one boyfriend, definitely not. (Was he your boyfriend? The two of you had never discussed that part…) 
The first time you had ever kissed him, Harry just felt exceedingly lucky. And he had felt similarly confused, wondering why the hell you had snogged him so suddenly, without seeming to show any interest in him beforehand. 
That night in the Gryffindor Common Room, after everyone else had gone to bed, he had asked you if he should be concerned about his kissing technique because Cho had been crying while kissing him and afterwards, and Ron had made that joke about how Harry must be horrible at snogging, then. 
And without even answering, you pulled him forward by the length of his Gryffindor tie and snogged him furiously. (At the time, he had been embarrassed by how easily he had moaned into your mouth - something he had definitely not done with Cho - but you had assured him later that you found it cute.) 
And then you explained to him that his kissing technique was more than fine, and that Cho was still hung up on Cedric, and he should stop ‘playing with her fragile emotions’. He had been too pleased to have you that he hadn’t cared at all about turning Cho down for Valentine’s Day. 
So naturally, he hadn’t questioned the nature of his relationship with you since. 
In this moment, he was still bitterly mad at Ron. But he watched to watch. He found you beautiful and irresistible, even if he should have hated seeing you with Ron. He just found it hot. And he was confused as to why that was - but he certainly wasn’t going to move unless you or Ron yelled at him to bugger off. 
The whole time that Harry contemplated this, Ron thoroughly explored your mouth with his tongue. This left you whimpering and writhing to get closer to him, despite the tight grip he had on your hair. You were needy for more, arching into him, needing to be closer to his warm, Quidditch-hardened body. Your hands tightly gripped his biceps through his thick jumper, wishing you could feel more of him, more of his delicious bare skin that you had experienced under your hands before but missed so dearly. 
“Ron-!” You squeaked out in protest as he pulled back from the kiss. 
The movement resonated a wet smack through the tent and left Harry’s mouth flooded with his own saliva as he saw the thread of spit that tangled between your two mouths. He would deny that it was out of pure want. 
He stared in awe as he saw how swollen and used your lips already were after just a few moments of Ron’s rough kissing. 
Typically, that was an imagery that Harry could only get from you after hours of kissing, slow and sweet. Or something he would see on the rare occasions when you had sucked his cock for hours, pinned him down and teased him until he was begging for more. Naturally, that thought made his cock give a needy pulse inside his trousers - but he refused to touch himself. 
He didn’t know when he had gotten so damn hard, but he knew that he was standing at full attention, and he hoped that Ron wouldn’t look over to see the very obvious bulge at the front of his pants. 
Something that truly mystified Harry was the look on your face. 
You had such a doll-like expression; your eyes glassy, your jaw slack, your lips parted. Your gaze was locked on Ron, tracing his every movement as though you had been hypnotised. If Harry didn’t know any better, he might say that you were under the Imperius Curse. In all the times that Harry had taken you to bed before, he had never seen that look on your face. 
Whenever you gleefully climbed on top of him (or the spare few times when you let him climb on top of you) you were always so present. Often, Harry was surprised by how composed you could be when he was the one begging and falling apart. Whenever he looked up at you, there was an almost wild look of mischief behind your eyes as you decided with pure, intricate calculation what you were going to do to him. 
And Harry could do nothing more than sit back and enjoy the ride. He supposed it was the one area of his life where he didn’t have to panic about the decision making. The one time where he didn’t have to fret about being responsible. 
“Ron,” You moaned out weakly, gently begging him for more. 
Harry then realised - Ron did that for you. And you must have liked it a whole lot. 
Because you made absolutely no protests as he mouthed along your cheek roughly, the short, coarse hair of his short beard clearly scratching your skin along the way. You only let out more beautiful moans as he began sucking savagely on your neck. 
“Ron, ah-!” 
Harry only became worried when he saw Ron quite clearly dig his teeth into your skin right at the neck of your shirt, biting down hard enough to draw blood. He continued to yank on your hair, holding your body in a tight arch to keep you from squirming away. You didn’t yell out any protests at this, but the sound you made was a sharp holler - perhaps it could have been from pleasure or pain. 
You had never made sounds like that with Harry, so he couldn’t exactly tell. 
Either way, it had Harry reaching to his back pocket for his wand. But he didn’t yet draw it out and point it at Ron. He was too damn curious to let this continue and see where things went. Especially if you didn’t want it to stop. 
“Y/N?” Harry questioned, his voice ripe with concern. 
He needed to check on you. If you even so much as uttered the words ‘no’ or ‘stop’, then he would put Ron on his ass without hesitation. 
You let out another moan, and his cock throbbed with need, trapped inside of his pants. He hoped that he could forget about it for now. 
You let out a small whimper as Ron tongued over the bite harshly, seemingly enjoying the taste of the blood, before he picked a new spot and bit down again. You made another wounded noise and Harry gripped his wand tighter before you finally responded to him. 
“I’m fine, Harry.” You breathed out, sparing him a quick sideways glance - barely able to turn your head with Ron’s strong grip holding you still by your hair. 
“Don’t you dare say his fucking name!” Ron growled out, clearly insulted that you were talking to Harry when all of your attention was supposed to be on him. “Not until I’m done with you.” 
In a fraction of a moment, these sharp words were paired with the sound of skin stinging against skin. 
Harry let out another gasp as he watched Ron’s large hand come down across your cheek. It was hard enough to make a distinct sound, and throttle your head to the side. But it definitely wasn’t hard enough to shake you out of the lustful haze you were in. If anything, the stiffness of his palm colliding with your cheek seemed to add to it. 
More shock pulsed through Harry when he heard you let out another moan, definitely a pleasurable one. He pulled out his wand and held it at his hip, not yet prepared to threaten Ron. Because if he wasn’t mistaken, you were enjoying this. 
“Ron,” You gasped quietly. 
You found yourself shocked by the way the slap had caused your pussy to throb between your legs. 
“That’s right.” He grunted back before he leaned back in, taking your mouth in that entirely commanding way once again. 
You could do nothing but moan pathetically and hope that soon he touched you where you needed it most. 
Sure, Ron had been somewhat rough with you before. 
He was always more of an animal in bed - Ron always fucked dumb and wild, climbed on top of you and let loose like a mindless animal until he was done. And you always liked it that way. 
You went to him when you wanted to be sore and full, when you wanted to lay back and forget about your day. You thought it was sweet of Harry to check on you. He had always been so different when it came to sex. 
You went to Harry when you wanted to be taken care of with intense softness and slowness. Sex with Harry was always more like making love - a devoted worship of you or you worshipping him. You liked to have his sweetness completely under your control, to know that he would do anything you said at a moment’s notice. 
And of course, Hermione was completely different. You went to her when you wanted to fight for dominance and sometimes lose, or win and have the pleasure of having her at your mercy. She was a very rule oriented person, so she was the type to have you stand in the corner with a book balanced on your head while she finished writing an essay and then give you a reward for not dropping it. But she was also someone who liked to be mind-broken and forget about all the rules sometimes. You liked that it was so unpredictable and surprisingly non-routine with her. 
While you knew each of them well, intimately - you were somewhat surprised. 
Ron had never been this mean before. 
Mostly, you were surprised by how quickly you were coming to like the meanness in him, especially when it was presented as a sexual aggression toward you. You knew that it was something you would crave long after this was over. (You hated that you could imagine yourself purposely pissing him off just to get this result.) 
After a few moments, Ron pulled away from the kiss again, leaving you panting, entirely breathless. He leaned his forehead against yours in a move that Harry would almost consider tender - quite a contrast to his other actions, staring daggers of dangerous passion into your eyes as your chest heaved. 
“I’m fine.” You muttered quietly, wanting to assure Harry that you were okay with everything that Ron was doing. More than okay - but you weren’t quite ready to admit that just yet. “It’s fine.” 
Your words were clearly intended for Harry, who you could see out of the corner of your eye was clearly prepared to take Ron down if need be. It was a nice safety net to have, but with your cheek stinging as much as your needy cunt - it was an unnecessary one. 
You kept your eyes locked on Ron as he teased a thumb across your bottom lip. You were tempted to tease him, tempted to call out Harry’s name again just to see what would happen. But you were worried that he would get you all worked up and then not let you cum, and that would be the most pitiful punishment of all to you on this day. 
“Fine?” Ron chuckled darkly. “I’ll show you fine.” 
He wretched your neck back harshly again, taking advantage of the hold he had on your hair. You couldn’t contain the moan you let out as he shoved his tongue past your lips once more, his free hand coming up to grope your breast through your shirt so harshly that it ached. 
He reached for your pants and tugged on them so hard that the button went flying, making a small ‘tink’ on the floor as it disappeared somewhere on the other side of the tent. You distantly hoped that Hermione could sew, or that she knew some spell for mending buttons, but that was a fleeting thought in your mind at the moment. 
Ron shoved his hand past the waistband of your pants without a second thought, without even a breath of asking permission. It was that boldness, the way he simply took you like you belonged to him - it was that feeling of being owned by him that made you clench around nothing, further soaking your cotton panties as he shoved his fingers into them. 
Ron pulled back from the kiss, letting out a breathy chuckle against your cheek as he felt that heady wetness. He had to pry the sticky fabric off your cunt to make his way to the source, and it only made him more sure of himself. He made bold, cocky movements when he posed two of his fingers rigid, sweeping up the length of your needy pussy. He gathered the wetness thick on his fingertips before he found your clit with practised skill and rubbed it in mean strokes. 
“Ron!” 
Your knees bent and your fingers dug into the fabric of his jumper, desperate to hold on to something. Your thighs clamped down around his hand, and when you let out a whining moan, Harry’s cock pulsed sharply when he realised he could hear the sound of your wetness audibly, even though it was slightly muffled, still trapped inside of your pants - he could hear each mean, wet stroke as Ron touched you. 
“Ron, please!” 
You were already begging to cum. 
But he had no determination to finish you off right now. He didn’t want to make you cum yet - otherwise, the show would have been over too soon. He only did this for a moment before he pulled his fingers back out of your pants, now absolutely soaked and glistening with your wetness. Then he shocked you and Harry yet again when he purposefully held the hand up for Harry to see. 
“More than fine.” He scoffed, referring to your earlier words. “Look at how fucking wet she is for me.” 
An incredibly tempting thought came over Harry. To cross the room and put his lips around those fingers, to taste your essence (something he was already intimately familiar with) while enjoying the thickness of Ron’s digits on his tongue. But there was still that part of Harry that was pissed off, and somehow, that part won out. 
“You’re mad.” He barked out, pocketing his wand again and crossing his arms tightly over his chest, setting his jaw and giving his best enraged expression. “You’re disgusting.” 
Ron let out another bitter chuckle. “You’re still watchin’, mate.” 
Seeing as it was not a demand to fuck off and stop watching, Harry continued to keep his eyes locked on the scene. All while trying his best to keep putting up that front of anger while arousal overtook him. 
Ron used the hand in your hair and a hand on your hip to throw you toward the table, finally releasing the grip on your hair to manhandle you until you were positioned how he liked. He bent you over the table with your palms supporting you on the surface, your ass sticking out, with your knees grazing against the attached bench in what must have been in an uncomfortable way. It put you and Ron sideways to Harry as Ron got behind you, showing off your profiles to him. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, Ron was purposefully showing off, making sure that Harry had a good view of whatever he was going to do to you next. 
You moaned again as Ron tucked his grip into your pants and underwear and ripped them down all at once, shoving the fabric down to your knees. You let out a pitiful, beautiful whimper as he put a hand on your jaw, forcing your head back painfully so that you could look up at him as he towered over you. He wanted you to know how much power he held over you. 
It made your cunt throb even harder, and you were sure that Harry could see the wetness glistening on your thighs. 
Ron’s body was warm against your back, the muscly hot furnace that he always was. Without warning, he shoved those two still wet fingers inside your cunt, and began fucking you open without mercy. This caused you to moan harshly and arch into the touch, aching for more. 
“It’s funny, innit?” Ron posed, a dark laughter dancing in his voice. “Someone had to show The Great Harry Potter how to fuck. One thing that didn’t just come to him with natural grace.” 
Over the sounds of your moans and Ron’s fingers moving slickly inside your cunt, Harry felt a wave of humiliation rise up in him. He would absolutely deny that Ron speaking so harshly to him like that, combined with his best friend for once looking down upon his name - actually made his cock throb harder. A big part of Harry internally scoffed. Did Ron honestly think that Harry was some blushing, clueless virgin? 
“I know how.” Harry replied, the words entirely daft to his own ears once they came to the open air. He sounded like a petulant child pretending that he hadn’t eaten a cookie before dinner. Absolutely no truth or proof behind his own words. 
Ron let out another dark laugh at this, and Harry’s stomach clenched with a strange combination of humiliation and lust. 
If Harry was being completely honest with himself, there was a time in his life when he had been taught how to fuck. It wasn’t something that came naturally to him without a bunch of nervous fumbling. But Ron certainly wasn’t his instructor. 
You had been the one to teach him how. 
Harry let out a needy whine, deep frustration radiating through him as your hips slowed down on top of him yet again. He wanted to cry as you sat down on top of him completely, trapping his cock in stillness, leaving him leaking and needy inside of you as your leaking pussy sheathed completely around him. It was the most beautiful torture - every inch of him sheathed in your hot wetness, but dear god, he needed you to move. 
“Hush, now, darling - there’s no need to whine.” You scolded him, your voice oddly sweet and soothing for words that brought such a disappointing lull over him. 
“But-” Harry breathed out a protest, and you yanked sharply on his Gryffindor tie. This caused the words to die off in his throat as his neck was jerked with a short snip of pain. 
He was still mostly clothed - still wearing his cardigan, unbuttoned and slumping down his arms, and his white shirt with a few stray buttons undone. With his trousers undone and pulled down to his thighs along with his underwear, letting his cock out. Usually, when you fucked him, no matter how undressed he got, you kept his tie around his neck. You had found that it was a very convenient leash - a very easy way to shut him up and make him obedient at a moment’s notice. 
It was something he was now unconsciously trained toward, which he both loved and hated. Ron and Hermione had no clue why Harry went so slack and became a puppet following your every whim if you even so much as grazed a suggestive touch near his tie during classes - it was something that made his brain go fuzzy and made his cock harden at an alarming speed. 
This afternoon, you had decided that the chosen form of torture - well, intensely wet, pleasurable ‘torture’ - would be riding him. You had shed your clothing and you were now sitting astride his lap naked, alternating between fucking him hard and fast for a few moments before you slowed down and then slopped completely until he begged for you to continued. 
It was a move that simply dared someone to come into the Gryffindor boys dorm during the class that the two of you had skipped and catch the two of you while you humped up and down on Harry’s cock. But he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the possibility of getting caught, as you easily made him forget about everything other than the feeling of your warm, tight, wet cunt clenching down on his cock. 
“I told you, Harry, we need to train up your stamina.” You whispered, speeding your hips up once again, daring him to hurl off the edge of oblivion into a mind-bending orgasm. “It’s like Quidditch - if you don’t practise, then you’ll never get better.” 
Harry only sputtered out a moan and clutched onto your hips tightly, pressing his face into your breasts as his over-edged balls ached and he internally begged for mercy. 
So what? He didn’t often last long with you. You were a goddess, and your pussy was perfect, who could blame him? What he lacked in stamina, he usually made up for in enthusiasm and the intense willingness to eat his own cum out of you afterwards, which you more than enjoyed. 
“Y/N, please-!” Harry grunted out desperately. 
“Ron, please!”
Harry’s mind was abruptly sucked back to the present by the sound of your voice, begging in that needy, airy tone much like he had been begging you for release all that time ago. He found it remarkable how someone as composed as you could be taken apart so easily by Ron. Perhaps he might just end up asking Ron for some tips after this - even if it would inflate the git’s ego a bit too much. 
“If you’re so great, then how come she’s not begging for your cock, hmm?” 
Ron teased, seeming to take great joy in focusing his attention on mocking Harry while his fingers fucked your pussy raw. He ignored your whines and pleas and the way you rocked your hips back into him, clearly so desperate for his cock as he had pointed out. 
“Watch and learn, Harry.” 
Harry wanted to make some sassy comment about how he didn’t need to learn this from Ron, but he was far too intrigued, his eyes glazed over with lust as he watched. 
“Ron-!” You let out his name in a gasp as he pulled those fingers out of you abruptly. 
He then slapped your ass, streaking those wet fingers across your behind in a way that made the hit sound even sharper, and you choked on your own breath and arched back into the touch. You looked fucking magnificent. Harry would absolutely catalogue this in his mind forever - though he hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time he got to watch Ron fuck you. 
Ron then used the hand that wasn’t slick with your arousal to pop open the button on his own trousers. Harry hoped that Ron wouldn’t make a comment about how intently his eyes became glued to his best friend’s cock as it fought to be freed from his pants - no underwear keeping it from fighting against the zipper as Ron easily shucked down the pants over his hips. 
Harry had snuck glances at Ron before. It was difficult not to grow curious about what your best mate’s cock looked like when sharing a room with him for six, going on seven years. Especially when the latter of those years had been filled with Ron growing into a tall, broad man that easily overtook Harry in stature. And Harry had spent an increasing amount of time thinking about Ron’s cock when he woke up to the sound of Ron wanking with deep, ragged grunts. 
He had caught sight of Ron coming out of the shower before. After Quidditch practices, and when racing to use the bathroom at the Burrow before anybody else could take up the already cramped shower schedule. And while Harry had admired Ron’s muscles, he had never dared to look down before. He would never be so blatant. He had never wanted to be called out for his curiosity. He never wanted that curiosity to turn into desire. 
But now, his eyes focused boldly on Ron’s cock, seeing as it was the only naked part of him available to stare at. 
Even though Ron’s red hair was one of the most distinguishable traits about him, Harry was surprised by just how bright and fiery his pubes were - like a hellish flame from which his cock sprung out. And boy, was it an impressive one. 
It was eight inches long, maybe a bit more, and it was thick. The only way to describe Ron’s cock was fat. It was quite pale, just like the rest of Ron, with a slight pink flush around the head that was swallowed up by his foreskin. But still, Harry found himself fixated on just how massive Ron’s cock was. 
Harry found himself wondering what the thick shaft would look like wrapped up in your hand, or the dainty, delicate touch of Hermione’s, and his throat became particularly dry when he imagined this. 
Strangely enough, even though Harry’s cock was a good two inches shorter and it was skinnier (much like his general stature when compared to Ron’s) - the first thing that Harry felt when looking at Ron’s cock wasn’t jealousy or inadequacy, but rather - awe. A horny type of marvel, like he was looking at a brilliant sex monument that he had just discovered. 
A small pang of worry flashed through his insides at the idea that Ron was likely going to take you so roughly with his obnoxiously large cock. He knew that Ron wasn’t going to be gentle all of a sudden. Harry worried that a cock of such size might hurt you. But again, he knew that he could step in if you asked him to. 
Ron grabbed his cock with the hand that he had previously been fucking you with, spreading your wetness over his shaft with a few good pumps. He poised a touch on your hip and then, with a hand on the base of his cock, began running the now exposed, throbbing tip along your weeping slit. 
Harry thought that he might push in after a moment, especially when you let out a whimper and arched your back toward him, daring him to sink in. 
“Ron, please. Please, baby. Come on.” You begged, your voice half caught in your throat as you were overtaken by need. 
Harry’s cock was freely leaking into his underwear now, and he almost shouted for Ron to begin fucking you out of his own dizzy desperation. 
But then, still teasing his cock along your swollen pussy lips, Ron put his other hand under your jaw. He squeezed your cheeks tightly between his thumb and forefinger - and he turned your head toward Harry. You had previously been facing the wall of the tent with half-closed, dopey eyes. 
Harry found himself deeply surprised by this. Of course, the whole point of this (supposedly) was to direct your attention away from Harry. Ron had even banned you from speaking his name. So why did he want you to look at Harry now? 
When your glassy, lustful eyes met Harry’s, his stomach jumped. He swallowed harshly around nothing and he knew that you saw the bobbing of this throat. You let out a whimper, squirming in Ron’s hold, still trying to fuck yourself back onto his cock. This caused Ron to let out a displeased growl and move the hand that he had on the base of his cock to your lower back, shoving you toward the table so that the edge of it cut into your hips. 
While keeping a tight hold on your face, making sure that you never looked away from Harry, Ron leaned in and grumbled something lowly in your ear. Even though you were panting harshly and Harry’s own heartbeat thumped in his ears, he could still hear the words so distinctly from across the room: 
“Go on. Tell him how badly you want my cock.” 
“I want it.” You whimpered. 
This wasn’t good enough for Ron. 
He yanked on your hair again, keeping your face locked on Harry. But at the same time, he made sure you stayed focused on the task at hand with his cock kissing at your entrance, the fat head of it just barely teasing in - but not nearly giving you enough to be satisfied. 
“Tell him who.” Ron barked out. “Tell him who you need.” 
“I need you, Ron!” You whined. “I need Ron’s cock.” 
These finally seemed to be the words that set him off. 
He slammed into you without further ceremony, digging his fingers into your hip and keeping the other hand in your hair for leverage. He began fucking you like a wild animal, his hips a blur of flesh that lit up your insides with pleasure. It was what you needed, and you instantly thanked him with a chorus of deep moans echoing from your throat. 
“Good. Fucking. Girl.” Ron ground out these words, driving each syllable home with a hard thrust of his hips. 
His movements filled the whole tent with nothing but sounds of his hips colliding against your ass, your wet pussy eagerly swallowing up his thick cock. Paired with his rough, animalistic grunting as he claimed you, complemented by the sounds of your withering moans - your lungs already wilted and tired, your body begging for release. You loved being used by him, and you knew that if he kept up the pace, you could cum just from the feeling of his big cock filling you up. 
It was this symphony of sounds - the very obvious signs of fucking - that drew Hermione’s attention back toward the tent. 
She had been roused by the yelling, originally. She didn’t want to intervene in the bickering like she was simply the ‘mother’ of the group, imposing rules and order on everyone. That role did become annoying after a while. So when it died down naturally, she had been thankful, and simply went back to her book. 
But it was the sounds of fucking that truly caught her attention. Completely against her own will, it started a fire between her legs and drew her up. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was your girlish lilting voice calling out Ron’s name. She knew that Harry wasn’t asleep and she hadn’t seen him leaving. So were the three of you-? 
“Fuck, take it! Take it like the little fuckin’ cockwarmer you are!” 
That deep growling voice couldn’t possibly be Ron - could it? 
With her pussy beginning to ache annoyingly between her thighs, Hermione pulled back the tent flap and stepped inside. The sight she found before her quickly made her gasp. 
Ron was fucking you. 
He had you bent over the table. There was something in the back of Hermione’s mind that screamed ‘that is where we eat, this is not sanitary’ - but she ignored that part of her mind in favour of the headliner. 
Which was the beastly way that Ron was taking you, harsh grunts pouring from his lips as his very large cock pounded into your pussy with seemingly no care. This made your poor pussy more swollen by the second, and seemingly - more coated in natural wetness as you creamed all over him, taking nothing but pleasure in his rough movements. 
You were moaning breathlessly, hanging onto the edge of the table for dear life, your face shaped into a perfect O as hot breaths poured from your lips. With your back arched out, showing your ass to Ron in a perfectly pornographic picture that was right out of one of the magazines that Hermione had accidentally seen under Ron’s bed. 
Your whole body rocked with his thrusts, the table creaking under the pure force of him - something that made Hermione realise just how strong he was for the first time ever. It was a thought that made her slightly dizzy and made her throat dry. The expression on his face was like nothing Hermione had ever seen before - tight-browed determination, not a lick of uncertainty anywhere among his features. Clearly, this was something he was confident in. And that confident power suited him so well. 
And Harry was watching. 
He was standing a few feet from the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a very obvious bulge in his pants. A stiff expression on his face as he stared at the scene more intently than she had ever seen him with anything other than Quidditch. 
The lick of heat that Hermione was feeling quickly boiled into a hellfire. Although she knew that her cheeks were pink, and suddenly her jacket felt overwhelming to have on, she didn’t ask to join in. But rather stupidly: 
“Ronald, stop this! Now!” 
Hermione hated that her first instinct was to scold Ron like a child, to order him around like this. 
But the dominant energy pouring off him in waves was certainly not something she was used to, and she had the utmost urge to stamp it out. Though you seemed to be enjoying yourself and Harry seemed perfectly intent to watch, Hermione’s gut told her that there was something wrong with the scene. On the surface, it was Ron’s apparent roughness with you, making Hermione worry that he was handling someone as delicate as you the wrong way. 
But deep down, she knew it was her own spiteful dominance washing up - a possessiveness she felt over you. Something that made her want to challenge Ron for you and have the pleasure of being put in her place. Or, have the pleasure of winning and taking you in front of him. 
Perhaps, what her gut truly wanted to tell her was wrong with the scene was that she wasn’t a central participant in it. 
Ron let out a sharp growl of frustration when Hermione’s shrill voice hit his ears. If there was any boner killer in the world, it was Hermione’s whiny, authoritative voice calling him by his full name. 
He pulled his cock out of you before you could blink. Harry made a choked sound at the sight of Ron’s now angry red cock parting from your swollen cunt with a sticky string of wetness, much like when you had parted from that breathless kiss at the beginning of all this. 
“Ron!” You whined sharply, wondering what the hell he was doing. Your orgasm had been a tight knot in your belly, but now it was fading off so quickly that it hurt. 
Hermione would deny that she stared. She would deny that she could a good eyeful of your pussy as it gaped around nothing, clearly aching for Ron’s cock, spilling more clear wetness out onto your own thighs with each aching, empty clench. Drool gathered in her mouth at the sight of your body so desperate. 
And a sight she had never seen before - Ron’s hard, bobbing dick, bright red and absolutely coated in your wetness. She almost mourned not being able to stare at it for longer as he tucked it back into his trousers and zipped them back up with a clearly frustrated haste. She would deny that the sheer size of his cock amazed her and made her own cunt clench with a filthy, hungry ache. 
“No-!” You squeaked out a protest, looking over your shoulder at Ron and sighing in defeat when you saw that he had tucked his cock away. 
Then you turned your gaze toward Hermione, looking at her with pure disappointment floating in your eyes. 
“Hermione!” You whined out, a clear plea for her to let the whole thing continue.  
She almost couldn’t stand the kicked puppy look from you, especially not when she was so used to giving in to you, giving in to all your little whims. Especially when your pussy was wet and your eyes were glassy with lust - she couldn’t resist you like this. 
You didn’t rush to pull up your own pants, unlike Ron. You didn’t see the point, seeing as, even if they didn’t all know it yet, everyone in the room had seen this part of you quite a few times before. 
“You just have to ruin everything, don’t you, Hermione?” Ron barked, clearly making his way toward the entrance of the tent to leave. 
It was likely that he wanted to sulk off between the trees for a wank since Hermione was becoming all ‘protective’ over you. He was far more afraid of anything she would do to him than whatever vague threats Harry had made earlier. 
“What if you were hurting her?” Hermione said meekly. “Did you even ask her if you could do that?” 
It was rare - so very rare that she admitted she was wrong. The minute she had told Ron to stop, she regretted not simply cheering the scene on. But she wasn’t going to go back on it now. She needed to be in control. She needed the whole thing to be her idea now. 
During the entire exchange, Harry remained eerily silent. Ron was glaring at Hermione with the fierce vengeance of the Locket still pulsing through him, and Hermione was giving him the stiff jaw that she usually did before they burst into an epic argument. If Harry was lucky, another argument would lead to more fucking, and he wasn’t going to speak up and ruin that. 
You whimpered again weakly as you straightened your back. You reached for the waistband of your pants and pulled them up slightly to give yourself some mobility in your footing, rather than having them hooked around your legs. But you didn’t pull them up to completely cover your pussy yet. You were still very needy, desperate for an orgasm. If someone else didn’t fuck you soon, you would either have to push Harry to the floor and take him or lay back on the table and start masturbating out in the open without care. 
“She liked it.” Ron growled, entirely confident in this statement. 
Hermione barely contained a whimper of her own as Ron’s hot breath fanned over her face. The condescending glare he gave her only emphasised their height difference, somehow making her insides hotter. 
“But it’s just so easy to blame the big, bad Ron Weasley for everything, isn’t it?” Ron huffed out. 
He turned his back then, and you knew he was about to storm out of the tent, so you finally scrounged up your voice and managed some words. 
“Take it off.” You choked out. “The Locket. Take it off.” 
Whatever happened next, you didn’t want it to be caused by anger. 
You wanted it to be caused by desire - by need. 
You knew that you weren’t the only person in the tent who needed this. You could see the way Hermione was unconsciously clenching her thighs together, and Harry’s cock was testing his zipper mightily. And even though Ron had started touching you out of a possessiveness, it wasn’t the first time that anger had sparked this kind of wild fucking from him - it was just an intensely exaggerated reaction under the Locket’s influence. 
But you knew that it would likely put everyone more at ease if he took it off. 
“You’ve been wearing it this whole time-?” Hermione gasped, reaching for the neck of Ron’s jumper as you had earlier. Surprisingly, he let her. 
“I still liked it.” You announced, wanting to assure Hermione that even if Ron’s need to brutally fuck you was prompted by the influence of the Locket, you had intensely enjoyed it. 
“I absolutely enjoyed it. In fact, I think Ron is the only one around here with any sense.” You said. 
It was then that you felt the draft from the tent flap blowing cooling air on your wet cunt - something that finally prompted you to pull your pants up the rest of the way. 
Harry almost begged you not to, not wanting sex to be off the table, not yet. Ron had to contain a laugh when you reached to fasten your pants with a button that was sitting on the floor in the corner. 
“Beg your pardon?” Hermione gaped, entirely shocked by your words, partially confused as to what you meant. 
Ron grinned wickedly at this revelation - he knew exactly what you meant. 
So, he made no moves to fight her when Hermione took the Locket off him and stashed it in her pocket, rather than putting it on. (She wanted to be clear headed for what she hoped would happen next.) 
“If we don’t stop fighting and start fucking, then we’re going to drive each other insane with all the damn bickering.” You explained.
Hermione looked between Ron and Harry, who were both very still and refused to look at her, much like they did when they thought that they were in trouble. It was quite clear that they were waiting for her to take the lead, to make the important decision as she usually did. 
And then she looked at you. She found herself quite taken with your sex-messed hair, your kiss-swollen lips and the pure need that glazed over your eyes, a few wet tears kissing against your lashes. 
“Hermione, please.” You begged, that pure need swallowing up your chest, making her name sound so beautiful coming off your lips. 
She was distinctly reminded of the last time she had heard those words coming off your lips, begging her for something in a distinctly similar way. 
“Hermione, please.” You murmured sharply against her lips, already untying the front of her cotton pyjama shorts. “I’ll be quick, I swear.” 
You had her pinned against the sink in the bathroom at the Burrow, licking the taste of spearmint toothpaste off her teeth. It was just after the two of you had completed a nightly routine, preparing for bed. 
You thought that routine should include an orgasm or two to help with better sleep, but Hermione feared getting caught. Even though the two of you seemed to be the last ones awake, everyone else already finished with their night and in bed. The house was quiet with sleep, even with the number of family members and guests gathered there, staying over in anticipation of the wedding. 
“Y/N-” Hermione choked out your name, reaching a hand up and putting a thumb on your pulse point, pressing down sharply as a warning. 
This was something that caused you to whimper against her mouth and pause the movement of your hand against her wet panties. It was a technique she had developed with you, a soft spot of yours that easily got you to behave or focus when she needed you to. 
“Hermione.” You replied, your voice full of breath, a quivering need balancing on your tongue. It was like a Veela’s call that delicately invited her to give you exactly what you needed. 
Hermione let out a sharp sigh. You held your breath as she gently rubbed her thumb over that spot on your neck, knowing that you would either be denied, or she would soon give in. There was no amount of begging you could do if she had already made up her mind. 
“Quickly.” She told you, her voice sharp and authoritative. 
It was like she was reminding you when an essay was due or telling you to pull down your skirt because your knickers were visible. But instead, she was pressing the fact that you had to make her cum quickly so that the two of you wouldn’t get caught. 
“Quickly.” You repeated the word with a nod. 
You then descended to your knees as you helped her half sit up on the sink, taking her shorts and underwear down to her ankles. 
“Good girl.” She praised in a strained whisper. 
She had to forcefully muffle her own moans with a hand tightly over her mouth as your lips latched onto her clit. 
Most of the time, Hermione didn’t know if she was a potent authority in your life, or if she let you run her like the brilliant scam artist that you were. But either way, she loved you enough to let you have the things you wanted. Most of the time. 
That had been just a few short nights before the ensuing blur of preparing for Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and the chaos that had everyone tumbling out of there with urgency. That was the last time that Hermione had cum before setting out on this entire tedious ‘adventure’. So of course, her lustful need was worse than ever, if only from starvation of touch over time. 
“Please.” You breathed out the word again, your voice desperate as ever. “Please, I need this. I think we all need this.” 
This drew her attention back to the present, back to the authority she had over you - well, you and the boys right now. 
Now that she thought of those boys - 
“You’re speaking for Harry now too?” Hermione chuckled, turning to look at the one person who had been silent through all of this. 
He raised his brows, looking rather caught. His mouth gaped like a fish as he desperately searched for the words to say ‘I was hoping that I would be included in the dirty filthy fucking without having to ask’. 
Harry didn’t get a chance to come up with a reply before you trampled over him with your own words. 
“Oh please, he’s been hard since Ron first kissed me. Also, for the record, you don’t have to ask Harry for sex, you just tell him it’s happening and he nods and takes off his pants.” You announced, looking at Harry in an intensely knowing way.
Hermione let out a breathy chuckle at this, giving Harry a very interesting sideways glance - studying him like she would study a particularly interesting book. Harry’s stomach bubbled with excitement and lust because you had given him a similar look so many times before. It made him imagine being trapped between you and Hermione while you both came up with increasingly naughty ways to torture him, and he found the fantasy to be equal parts scary and thrilling. 
Ron’s brows knitted together with intense thought and he looked between you and Harry. 
Harry caught Ron’s eye, and he began to turn cherry red when he realised he had been outed as very needy, and very easy. He thought perhaps Ron was judging him - he had no clue that now his best friend was looking upon him with a newly formed sexual appetite. 
“Well, then. Y/N, I suppose you’re right.” 
Hermione huffed out these words before marching across the room toward you with determination. She placed the few books that she had tucked into her arm on the table behind you before she tangled her fingers into your hair in an entirely possessive and well-known manner. Then she forced your lips towards her, kissing you fiercely, but much gentler than Ron had. 
The realisation truly hit all three of them then, that you had been having sex with the other two the entire time. But through some ingrained embarrassment and some intense need not to throw off the balance of the friendships with pining and jealousy, they had always begged you to keep it secret. The worst part of realising it now was - they all knew that they could have been sharing you and each other the whole damn time. 
Naturally, Ron was the one who had to say it out loud. 
“So, you’ve been havin’ me, and him, and her?” He said, pointing to himself, and Harry, and then to the back of Hermione’s head as she feasted greedily on your mouth, driving home the point. “The whole time?” 
Hermione pulled away from the kiss, leaning away from your body slightly, letting both the boys pointedly stare you down for a moment before you answered the question. 
“Yes.” You answered honestly, that lustful breathiness coming back into your voice. “I wasn’t really under the impression that I was supposed to be monogamous.” 
“Mono - what?” Harry finally spoke, the first one to prod at these words with a confusion that he and Ron were both feeling. 
“Monogamous.” Hermione repeated, stripping off her jacket and tossing it to lay on one of the benches beside the table. 
She then reached for your pants, noticing the absent button but ignoring it for now as she ripped the material down over your hips again. She took you with a carelessness that said she already knew she owned you and she could do whatever she pleased with you as she once again exposed your needy, hot pussy to the open air. 
You let out a throaty moan as Hermione continued explaining the term to the boys. 
“Monogamy describes a type of relationship where two partners are exclusive to each other, romantically and sexually, and any romantic or sexual contact with other partners outside of that is considered cheating.” 
Hermione explained this in the textbook fashion that she usually spoke about things. As usual, her flawless intellect and perfect composure only turned you on more. She snaked one hand under your shirt while the other reached between your thighs and began gently teasing her fingers along your wetness. You let out a moan when she gripped onto your breast and her fingers grazed your clit - she was pleased to find you braless. 
“I believe what Y/N has been engaging in with all of us would be considered polyamory. A person in multiple romantic or sexual relationships at once.” Hermione added on. 
“What if we were all - you know - together?” Harry posed, clearly feeling curious about the idea. 
“That would still be considered polyamory.” Hermione said. 
Hermione wanted to mention the concept of a closed off poly relationship - the idea that the four of you would just be the four of you, with no one else involved. How it should be. That’s what always seemed right. It was right in front of her the whole time, and she felt foolish for not being able to see the reality of things sooner. 
“I don’t want anyone but the three of you.” You moaned quietly. 
Hermione let out a small grin when you voiced this for her. 
“You sure that you haven’t been fuckin’ any other tossers on the side?” Ron piped up. “You are a little desperate, love.” 
Your pussy quaked at his degrading words combined with the sweet nickname, and you choked on a harsh sound because of it. 
“Shut up.” You whined. “It’s just us. It’s always just been us.” 
Harry liked the way you said that. Us. 
You humped your hips into Hermione’s touches as she worked her fingers inside of you - there was a slight gape around her delicate touch, plenty of room where Ron had furiously fucked you open. 
“Did Ron cum inside of you?” Hermione asked, shifting the conversation dramatically and unexpectedly. She pulled back her fingers to inspect for that telltale streak of white. 
Harry choked on his own spit at the filthiness of her words, entirely surprised by it, and though Ron was shocked by her dirty words, he rushed to answer. 
“Didn’t give me the bloody chance to.” He grumbled in complaint. 
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at this. 
She pulled back from you completely then, causing you to whine out in protest as you were once again teased and left hanging. She ignored your neediness as she turned back toward the boys. 
“Hermione-!” You called out, collapsing against the table as your face curled into defeat. She ignored you for now. 
Hermione walked over to Harry and grabbed the front of his jumper with one hand and then fed him the fingers that she just had inside of you, clearly eager to test out that needy compliance of his that you had mentioned earlier. Harry didn’t question her and fell so easily to her touches, something that caused her to bite back a smile as she gave out her next instructions.
“Well, Ronald, if you behave yourself, then maybe you’ll get to cum inside me tonight.” Hermione told him, using that bossy tone to say his name in a way he had previously hated so much. 
The bossiness combined with the pure filth spilling from her lips was now something that made his cock throb and protest against the confines of his pants. 
Harry continued greedily sucking on her fingers, letting out quiet moans around them as he bobbed his head, forcing Hermione to speak louder to be heard over his humming and the sounds of his wet sucking. 
“Now that I’ve seen your cock, I want to try it out.” She said, looking at Ron, seemingly paying no mind to Harry as he devoured her fingers. “So you’ll fuck me while Harry fucks Y/N, alright?” 
You cunt tingled at her words - she said it like she was doling out a homework schedule, posing it like a question while leaving no room for her authority to be dethroned. 
It seemed that rule-oriented Hermione was entirely good at making them, and in this situation, nobody was going to protest.
A short while later, the four of you were in the middle of the floor - none of the cots were near big enough to fit all of you at once. And sure, Hermione was talented in Transfiguration and could have fixed that, but her patience was worn thin and it was easiest just to toss the blankets on the floor in a pile and close the tent flap so that nobody’s bits got cold. 
Hermione had everyone strip down. 
The boys were much more efficient in following her orders when getting their clothes off than they ever were in following her study schedules. You were no different, of course, being used to falling under her strict, but merciful reign. 
You took a moment to admire each of your companions, especially when Ron let out a comment about Hermione ‘catching up’ and she began to peel off her clothing too. 
Ron was strong and muscular, pure bulk with a perfect bit of chub on him. (Sadly, less chub than he had a few months ago thanks to the lacklustre food situation). His love for food and Quidditch had paid off, resulting in a body that was broad, like a wonderfully warm, soft brick wall. He had filled out his once gangly height so that he looked much more like a professional athlete now than a clumsy toothpick. 
You found his muscular shoulders to be so thick and admirable, a sign of his humble power, especially now that he had the scar from being splinched still healing pinkly over his skin as a reminder of his strength. His soft stomach and thick thighs were utterly perfect in your eyes, a perfect frame for that magnificent, large cock. 
Harry was opposite to Ron in almost every way, and still so utterly perfect. 
He was thin, as you had always known him to be, and he was shorter than Ron by a good two or three inches. (You had always liked that about him because it meant he was easier for you to manhandle.) 
Where Ron’s skin was smooth and freckled and he was naturally pretty hairless over most of his body, Harry was well - hairy. The dark chest hair was something that easily attracted you, a contrast off his pale skin, making a trail down his chest to the nest of dark pubic hair from which his cock sprang out. His cock was smaller than Ron’s but never failed to impress, especially when you had him beneath you and had that cock at your mercy. 
Naturally, after he stripped down, Harry kept his glasses on, wanting to be able to see everything that was going on. His eyes kept bouncing between Ron and Hermione so fervently, taking in all the new flesh as it was revealed to him. You definitely couldn’t blame him for doing so. 
Hermione was a goddess. No other words could describe her. 
Her skin was soft and pale, dotted with beauty marks in some places. You noticed that she too was starting to become a bit too thin, and you vowed that you would put a bit more on her plate during the next meal. Nonetheless, you had always found everything about her to be so perfect. From her pert breasts with soft pink nipples to the small patch of hair between her thighs that was surprisingly a bit lighter in colour than the hair on her head. 
The scene that had unfolded was nothing short of erotic - something stolen right out of your most epic fantasies when you thought of the three people that you loved the most. 
Hermione had been barking orders at everyone and her bossy nature couldn’t even be dampened down when Ron sheathed his cock inside of her for the first time. She simply took the thickness in stride, fucking back into him while she was on her hands and knees. 
The blatant confidence of her voice wavered only slightly with her pleasurable moans, but it seemed that the sex was turning into a battle between the two of them. Ron’s stubborn urge to fuck her harder, to make her break until she was nothing but a brainless mess (for once in her life). Versus Hermione’s own stubbornness, her urge to continue ordering everyone around even while an orgasmic coil wound tight in her stomach and became increasingly more distracting. 
You were on your hands and knees in front of her, mirroring the position so that you could kiss her, and she could touch you freely. She petted sweetly along your face, fisted your hair, or groped your breasts as she pleased while balancing herself with the other hand, and you lavished in the attention. 
Once again, Harry was a grand contrast from Ron as he fucked into your needy pussy from behind. He was entirely different from the beastly version of Ron that was brutalising Hermione’s cunt without care, creating slick slapping sounds throughout the room. 
Harry - as usual - was like a puppet that needed to be pulled on a string. His cock was more than enough to fill you perfectly, but he wasn’t someone who could be rough or fuck you brutally. You were quickly learning that he couldn’t even pound into your cunt harshly to satisfy that deep ache when he was prompted, it seemed. 
“Harry, harder, please!” You moaned, fucking your hips back into him as you fisted the blanket beneath you. You were desperate to recreate the feeling Ron had performed on you - raw, unfiltered possession, pure need taken out on your pussy. 
But Harry being needy was an entirely different form. 
Where Ron was rough and possessive, taking out his need on you by setting out to prove that he owned every inch of your body - Harry was soft. He needed to be the one owned. 
Harry bit down on his lip hard to muffle his whines, fucking you in bouts of fast, rabbit-like strokes before slowing down as the need to cum tightened in his balls. Not wanting to disappoint you, he would then grind deeply into your pussy, trying to will away his own orgasm. 
It wasn’t working very well. 
Especially not when he looked down and saw your wetness leaking out around his cock. Not when he remembered how good you had looked with Ron stretching you open, causing an impulsive need for him to fuck into you quickly again. But his strokes never built up into that harshness you were craving before he let out a deep, throaty whine and slowed down again, fearing cumming too quickly and being scolded for it. (Or being disappointed in himself, honestly.) 
You wished more than anything that you had a Gryffindor tie to put around his neck to direct him how you wanted to, or a literal leash to tug on. 
Harry was a good pet, but he needed to be treated like one. 
Without a leash to hang around his neck, you hung your head between your shoulders and let out a moan of disappointment as his slowing movements caused your orgasm to edge off once again. He was inadvertently torturing you, making your cunt ache more angrily than ever as you throbbed around his cock in red hot waves. You supposed that it was payback for all the times you had made him wait so long to cum. 
“Harry,” You warbled out in a whine, his name harshly scraping against the back of your throat. 
He couldn’t see your face in this position, couldn’t see your expression of pure anguish - so he thought it was a sound of encouragement. He thought that he was doing very well. But of course, Hermione quickly knew what it was, even with Ron fucking her so hard that he was practically driving her hips out of placement. 
“Harry, you - you have to go harder!” Hermione barked at him, still managing to give orders, even in her current position. “She’s never going to cum like that!” 
Ron let out a throaty chuckle at this, highly amused. 
“Mate, do you need me to show you how again?” He asked. 
He slowed his brutal fucking of Hermione only for a moment, long enough to catch his breath and let Harry get in a reply. 
Harry let out a wounded sound at this, entirely similar to a kicked puppy. As much as the idea of Ron pushing him out of the way to take your pussy roughly and ‘show him how’ was intensely hot, Harry wanted to prove himself. 
“No, I don’t need to be shown, I’m perfectly capable of making a girl cum, thank you very much.” Harry replied, his sass partially throttled by the dryness of his throat, your cunt clenching around his cock making him breathless. 
“Ron, don’t you dare stop!” Hermione ordered sharply, trying to fuck herself harder back on his cock. 
Ron reached down and grabbed Hermione by the jaw, much the same as he had done to you earlier, and tilted her head up. His lips met the flushed skin of her cheek as he leaned down, draping his hot, sweaty body across her back. 
It was something that she likely would have called grotesque before - the act of Ron’s sweaty skin against her - but she let out a needy whimper. And she didn’t squirm against him as he held a tight grip on her face. Harry nearly came at how tightly your pussy hugged his cock then, both of you intently watching what happened next. 
“I’ll bloody well do what I like.” Ron said, his voice still taking on that dark, menacing quality even though he was no longer wearing the Locket. “And if you behave, I just might let you cum tonight.” 
He mirrored her earlier words back to her, clearly mocking her. Before Hermione could come up with any clever reply, she was cut off with a gasp out of her own lips as Ron released his grip on her face and began fucking into her harshly again. This knocked her forward so hard that she had to restabilize her arms against the floor to keep herself from falling flat on her face. 
“Harry, turn me over.” You told him, thinking he would have more success if you were on your back. 
Harry mumbled out a ‘yes’ and then pulled out of you. This caused you to whimper with disappointment before he put gentle hands on your hips and helped you get comfortable on your back. 
Without asking, he put a pillow under your head - it was that kind of sweetness that had always drawn you to him. 
In this new position, you were almost between Hermione’s spread arms, your face surrounded by a wild curtain of her hair as she hung her head low between her shoulders. She was panting heavily with the effort as Ron continued to fuck her roughly and now had a two fingers on her clit - determined to finish her just to show that he could. 
While Harry situated himself between your naturally parted thighs, Hermione leaned down and seized your lips. Her kiss vibrated hot moans into your mouth while Harry pushed back into you, and Ron fucked her so hard that he jostled her head, making her unsteady in the kiss. 
“Oh, fuck!” Harry sighed, entirely delighted in the feeling of your wetness around him. 
When you reached down and began rubbing your own clit with determination, he then began fucking you at a quick pace, no longer worried that he would cum before you. Even if he did, he would see you through it and make sure to take care of you, he mentally vowed. 
He was soft, but quick, his hips pattering against yours in speedy movements that actually treated your pussy rather gently. He chased his orgasm inside of you while creating a warm tingle through you that met up nicely with the hot stinging your own fingers made on your clit. 
Eventually, your kiss with Hermione turned into the barest contact of lips on lips as her mouth parted with hot moans, the pleasure absolutely mounting inside of her. Ron’s grunts echoed in the background as the sharp, almost vicious smacking of his hips against her ass continued. 
“Fuck, Ron!” Hermione cried out, all hot breath against your cheek. “I’m cumming! Fuck! Don’t stop!” 
“Take it!” Ron growled. “Take my fuckin’ load, pretty little bitch!” 
On any other day, in any other situation aside from giving her an orgasm with his cock buried deep inside of her, Ron Weasley calling Hermione Granger a ‘pretty little bitch’ would have landed him some pretty severe injuries. But in this instance, it made her moan so hard that her voice cracked, and it was most definitely one of the things that triggered her orgasm. 
“Ron-!” She choked out. 
The sweet sounds she made combined with the absolutely feral noises coming out of Ron lit your whole body on fire. You knew that this sweet symphony was what caused Harry to fuck into you like a mad rabbit for a few seconds before you felt pure heat spilling into you. Upon instinct, you reached around him with your free hand and dug your nails into his arsecheek, forcing him to fuck you through his orgasm even while he gasped and choked on his breath from the overstimulation. 
“Y/N-” 
You let yourself get some lasting pleasure out of extra moments of his hard cock filling you up, and with your own touch on your clit, you rolled into a gentle, but deeply satisfying orgasm. 
“Please-” Harry choked out, and you finally released him, letting him pull back. 
You moaned at the sight of his cock coming out of you - the tip bright red and still weeping bits of cum, almost crying out in protest of the overstimulation, much like the tears that dotted the edges of his eyes. You had made him cry much more severely before when you had more time to tease him, and it was something that you had highly enjoyed. 
He collapsed on top of you and began kissing along your shoulder, being the sweet boy that he was, and he groped one of your breasts. When you tilted your head to look toward Ron and Hermione, she let out a few last pittering moans and he let out a deep grunt before pulling out of her. 
She collapsed entirely then, and it was only her last bit of mindfulness, directing herself as she fell that kept her from falling right on top of you. 
Ron still had a warm hand on her hip, and as you looked down the length of her body, if you weren’t mistaken - he was still raging hard, even after he had cum. (It wasn’t the first time it had happened. Sometimes Ron worked himself into such a frenzy that he needed to cum two or even three times in a night before his cock fully went down. It lovingly surprised you every single time.) 
“Good?” Ron posed, his voice gentle for the first time in hours. He patted Hermione on the hip, clearly directing the question at her. 
Of course, he was still tender-hearted below the surface. He would never fuck someone’s brains out like that without ensuring that they were okay. 
“I’m good.” Hermione replied, choking on her own breath. 
She spared him a glance over her shoulder, and he gave her the most utterly timid grin - it was such a roaring contrast to his earlier bold words and his rough touches, but it was somehow a fantastic assurance toward Hermione that he was, of course, still the same Ron. She could still boss him around in every other aspect of life, but if she needed a break from all that bossing, he could do this for her. 
Satisfied with this, she leaned in to kiss you again. 
You sighed with delight into her mouth and snaked your tongue past her lips, more than enjoying the attention you were being ravished with. Your pussy still nagged for attention between your legs and you hoped that Hermione wasn’t too tired to play with you. 
“You know Harry, you don’t have to keep starin’ at it.” Ron joked. “It’s not gonna bite you, mate.”
There was a slight slick sound, and when you pulled away from Hermione’s mouth and opened your eyes, you realised that it was Ron pumping his hand on his still very hard cock, wanking with the combination of Hermione’s wetness and his own cum that he had gathered there. 
It took your orgasm-hazed brain a second to realise that he was talking about his dick. When you glanced over your other shoulder, you realised completely that Harry’s focus was no longer on peppering kisses over your neck and shoulder, but very much on staring at Ron’s cock. 
With Harry’s body still flush against yours as he laid on top of you, you felt the deep sigh that he let out. You could see the contemplation in his eyes, the slight fear to express his desires that you had seen in him before. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, encouraging him. 
“What is it, darling?” You asked gently. 
“I keep staring at it because, well…” He sighed again before continuing. “I want to… what is it that Hermione said? ‘Try it out’.” 
Harry highly resisted the urge to hide his head in your neck with embarrassment after this admission. He looked from you, to Hermione, then to Ron for some kind of approval - or simply looked not to be mocked. 
“Oh, you should.” Hermione said, giving a moan of contentment as she stretched out her back like a cat. 
She had finally regained some energy after being so thoroughly fucked, and she turned from where she had collapsed on her stomach to lay on her side, showing off her gorgeous body to all eyes in the room. 
“It’s magnificent.” She added on with an almost dreamy sigh. 
Hermione smiled - a sweet, coy smile, and you let out a giggle as Ron caught her eye, his brows raised in shock. It was one of the few things she had complimented him on without hesitation. This whole thing had certainly turned the group’s dynamics upside-down. 
When Harry looked to Ron, he found concern knitted in those freckled features. 
“Harry, typically, I think when blokes do it, there’s a bit more… um… preparation… involved, innit?” Ron posed, hesitation taking up every inch of his voice for the first time that night. 
Clearly, he thought that Harry meant he wanted to take Ron in his ass - and he was concerned about Harry’s inexperience versus Ron’s sheer size. 
Harry flushed red, perhaps from embarrassment at having this pointed out to him, or from the lust of considering what it would be like to have that beautifully large cock splitting him open. (You did feel Harry’s cock give a pathetic twitch against your thigh). This time he did lean into your shoulder to hide as much as he could. 
“Yes Ron, please tell me more about how much preparation it would take for me to handle your very giant cock.” Harry drawled sarcastically, trying to make a joke out of it. 
Hermione let out a chuckle at this. When you caught Ron’s eye, you could see a distinct heat swimming there. Obviously he enjoyed Harry talking about him this way, even if it was with his typical sass. 
“You should suck him off.” You said, running your fingers through Harry’s dark locks again, trying to be gently encouraging. “Unless you’re afraid that he’ll break your jaw,” You made a joke of your own, and Harry let out a sarcastic scoff against your skin. 
Harry didn’t need anymore convincing when Ron got a hand in his hair, practically hauling him off of you. He let out a lilting moan of his own as Ron handled him into place, much like he had done to you earlier. 
Hermione then crawled over to on weak bambi legs and laid herself on top of you, pressing her body against yours - chest to chest, lips against yours with the usual sharp determination and an almost lazy exploration of her tongue through your teeth. She hooked her thigh over your hip so that she could press her sloppy, used cunt against yours. 
This inadvertently made one of the hottest sensations you had ever experienced when she began grinding her pussy against yours and Ron’s cum began spilling out of her to meet Harry’s cum in a sloppy mess between your thighs. 
It was truly a perfect union of all the people you loved the most. 
While you sucked on Hermione’s tongue, you heard a sloppy gagging sound beside your head that more than caught your attention. You couldn’t help but to pull away from the kiss with the curiosity to look. Hermione began kissing down your neck and lavishing your breasts with attention while you craned your neck to look at Ron and Harry. 
Ron had Harry on his back, and had mounted his chest. From the kind of sideways angle you had, Ron had a commanding, tight hand in Harry’s thick, black locks and held him still while he rocked his cock into Harry’s mouth. His eyes were screwed tight, clearly trying to concentrate on pleasing Ron, gagging with each movement as he struggled to accommodate such an intense size. 
“Relax, Harry.” You said, reaching out to gently pet your fingertips up his arm. You let out a moan when Hermione sucked harshly on your nipple - clearly she was seeking joy in getting a reaction out of you. “It’ll be easier of you just relax and let him fuck your throat.” 
That was something you knew from experience, on both sides. Ron’s cock was massive to accommodate, but it was easier just to sit back and take the ride. And Harry was intense, thoughtful, a worrier. He wanted to please and know that he was doing well. But he did better when you fucked every last thought out of his head. 
“Yeah, come on.” Ron grunted quietly, trying to force more of his cock down Harry’s throat. “You’ve got a sweet fuckin’ mouth when you’re not usin’ it to talk back.” 
Harry moaned at this praise and you saw him visibly relax, and you gave him a few more sweet pets as you added on: 
“Good boy. Come on, be good for him.” 
Which seemed to truly encourage him, and he let Ron start up a good rhythm. He was much gentler than he had been with you or Hermione, taking mercy on Harry for being so new at this. It was an easy back and forth that gathered drool on his chin and soon at him moaning around Ron’s cock as he enjoyed the fullness on his tongue. 
You let out a moan of your own when you felt Hermione’s fingers prodding at your well-used pussy and felt her soft lips lingering around the top of your mound. 
“Looks like Harry left me a little present here, hmm?” Hermione sighed, sounding overjoyed at the fact that Harry had cum inside of you. 
You knew that Hermione was filthy - pin you down and shove her hand up your skirt while in one of the carriages on the train filthy; sneak you into the Prefects bathroom in the middle of the night filthy; crawl into your bed in the Gryffindor girls dorm and clamp her hand over your mouth to keep you quiet filthy - but this was reaching all new levels. Even for all the things you knew of her, all the dirty secrets that the two of you shared. 
“Oh, fuck!” 
It just caused you to moan, especially when those fingers breached you sharply, taking you like she owned you once again. Her tongue prodded at your entrance eagerly as her touch caused Harry’s mess to spill out of you. She just lapped it up, filthy and eager. 
Her tongue worked on you so perfectly. 
You couldn’t help but to put a hand down and grip that wild hair, arching your hips to hump against her face as she fucked her fingers into you gently and tongued along your clit. She was treating your pussy lovingly, each touch commanding pleasure out of you, but not possessive or rough. 
It was the same way she handled tests, with a deeply ingrained knowledge making each answer meaningful. It was that beautiful thing about her that made her quiet and reserved in her performance, not having to command the room with arrogance or noise. Her tongue danced along your cunt with confidence and grace in a way that had your toes curling in minutes. Her fingers curled inside of you while she smiled against you, knowing how she already had you teetering on the edge. 
“Such a good girl for me.” She sighed. 
“‘Mione,” You moaned back at her, the loving nickname dancing on your lips as a warning that you were already close. 
“Oh, come on Harry, you can gimme one more.” 
You heard Ron’s voice grunting roughly above you, and when you craned your neck again and spared the boys a glance, you were incredibly turned on by the sight. 
Ron had Harry pinned under him, and now, rather than having his cock shoved down Harry’s throat, they were pressed hips to hips and chests to chests as you and Hermione had been before. Harry was breathless and gaping for air underneath Ron - from what you could see, Ron had both of their cocks in his large fist, sliding them together in a mess of cum, trying to milk another orgasm out of the spent, whining, overstimulated Harry against his own, still somehow hard cock. 
“Ron, fuck, please-!” 
Harry could do nothing but cry and buck up against the touches, desperately trying to suck air in through his parted lips, his cock weeping for more. It was a sight that sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, and had you squeezing around Hermione’s fingers, hurling over the edge toward your orgasm as she gently sucked on your clit. 
“Oh, fuck, ‘Mione!” 
Hermione sighed with satisfaction and licked you through it, making your thighs quiver with your own overstimulation as she shoved her tongue deep inside of you. Seemingly, she was determined to lick you clean, to lick the essence of your existence right out of you. 
When she was done with this, she then began to kiss her way back up your body and shoved her tongue in your mouth again. You moaned with delight at tasting yourself on her tongue, and the lingering salty traces of Harry there too, and you held her face between your hands as you indulged in the kisses. 
You were only distracted from her sweet lips when you heard Ron’s voice again, even more ragged as he had another orgasm. 
“Fuck, Potter, take it-!” 
Him calling Harry by his surname in such a degrading tone made your stomach curl with a unique arousal, and it certainly got Hermione’s attention too. She planted her hands beside your shoulders and looked up to survey the scene while you cricked your neck awkwardly. 
Ron was kneeling on either side of Harry’s chest once again. His stomach was covered in his own mess and he was panting in an entirely filthy manner with his mouth open while Ron sat above him, fisting his own cock with the clear determination to make himself cum. 
His release splattered across Harry’s face in wide, white streaks, painting Harry’s tongue, his open lips, his cheeks, and dirtying his glasses in the most filthy manner that you had ever seen him - Ron let out a deep satisfied grunt as he came, and his cock finally softened in his fist. 
(Perhaps it was because the part of his ego that had started the entire argument, the thing that felt jealous of Harry in the first place was finally satisfied.) 
“Ron!” Hermione called his name in her ‘scolding’ voice once again - perhaps she thought cumming over Harry’s face was just a step too far, just a bit too degrading. 
She reached off to the side for her wand, and for once in his life, Ron didn’t flinch. It was like an unspoken air in the room that she didn’t intend to curse him with it as a consequence, but rather - she simply intended to clean up Harry’s face with magic. 
“Just let me enjoy it.” Ron said, reaching out with his clean hand and stopping Hermione with a gentle grip on her wrist. “Just for a minute.” 
Harry - who seemed to be so fucked out now that he was barely present - let out a hum of agreement, and licked some of Ron’s cum off his lips. 
This gave you a brilliant idea. 
You gently rolled Hermione off of you and then you crawled over to Harry. With all of them watching you intently, you licked a path across his cheek, gathering quite a bit of Ron’s spend on your tongue before you shoved your tongue into Harry’s mouth - engaging in an entirely filthy kiss where you exchanged the taste of Ron between the two of you. 
It was something that reverberated a hot moan through Harry, had Ron groaning, and even caused a small sigh of delight from Hermione. 
“All of you are degenerates.” Hermione sighed, shaking her head, pretending to be displeased by the whole thing. 
“Yeah, and you’re our leader.” Ron reminded her with a laugh. 
When you woke up the next morning, the entire tent had a different energy. 
Before you even opened your eyes, you heard giggling. 
When you managed to peel open your sleep-stuck eyes, you saw Harry and Hermione standing at the small kitchenette, preparing what you guessed was breakfast. Harry was speaking quietly, and you couldn’t hear him, but it surprised you entirely when he made a grab for Hermione’s ass, groped her so boldly through her loose sweatpants. And rather than slapping him or scolding him - she let out another bright, air giggle, and simply smacked him with a tea towel in the most playful manner possible before he let out a laugh too. 
The events of the day before had not been some loneliness induced hallucination on your part. All of it had happened. And it had shifted everyone’s mood for the better. 
You moved to get out of bed and this drew both of their attention toward you. Harry proceeded to stir whatever Hermione had in the pot on the stove to distract himself while she watched you carefully. 
After you had successfully gotten your boots on, when you looked up, you realised that she was wearing one of Ron’s jumpers. Clearly one from a few years ago, something that would have been too small for him now that fit her well, comforting and worn-in with the large R in the middle that signified it had been made by Molly some Christmases ago. 
It was something she could do now without fearing setting off jealousy in any of you, and that fact made you smile. 
“Where’s Ron?” You asked, feeling a single piece missing from the quaint scene. 
“He volunteered to take watch.” Hermione noted, motioning toward the tent’s entrance. “Even though I’ve told him the wards are fine and he really should rest, you know he hasn’t been getting enough sleep lately-” 
“I’ll get him to go to sleep after breakfast.” You told her. “You know him, he just wants to keep a watchful eye. He’s protective.” 
You crossed the room, and in a move that felt so utterly natural, you gently kissed Harry on the mouth and then kissed Hermione - so out in the open, no shame, no hiding. You felt like a wonderful weight had been lifted off of you as they both smiled at you. Smiled - no jealous glaring, no arguing. 
You couldn’t have felt better as you grabbed your jacket off the back of a chair and put it on as you went outside. 
Ron was sitting a few feet away from the opening of the tent in one of the camping chairs. He stared out into the open as the sun crested over a nearby hill, just kissing everything with a bright, blinding streak of light. There had been a frost overnight that coated everything in bitter white and put an awful chill in the air. So you zipped up your jacket as you went over to him, and he gave you a small smile when he saw you. 
When you stood in front of him, he reached out to you naturally, and you easily gave in to his movements as he pulled you into his lap. There was a worry in the back of your mind about how well an old camping chair might hold the both of you at once, but you figured it would be a good laugh if you broke it. So you simply planted your ass in his lap and strung your legs over the arm of the chair. He wrapped his arms protectively around you and nuzzled his head against your arm. 
You frowned when one of the first things you spotted was that glint of silver poking out of the neck of his jacket. 
“Ron, you’re wearing it again.” You sighed, reaching out and picking up the Locket between your fingers, thumbing along the serpent with distaste. 
“I’m fine,” He replied, taking it from you and tucking it back inside of his coat. 
“Ron-” You were going to argue, but he cut you off. 
“Really, it’s not as bad as it was.” He said, his voice sounding genuine and light, sounding like the Ron that you usually knew. His voice wasn’t grinding, angry, or annoyed like he usually did when he wore it. 
“What do you mean?” You asked, your curiosity most definitely peaked. 
“After yesterday, it’s like…” He struggled to find the right words to explain it, and you were patient with him. “Everything is out in the open now. Genuinely, I used to feel like shit, because… I was jealous. Proper jealous. And not just jealous of Harry… I honestly thought that there was a point in my life where I would just… end up alone.” 
Him saying those words broke your heart, and you swallowed harshly around the lump in your throat, holding back tears while he continued. 
“I thought that you would leave me, and Hermione would stop finding excuses to be around me. I thought Harry would realise I’m a shit friend and stop wanting to be around me. And I think the Locket knew that I just spent so much time being afraid - and… it turned that fear into jealousy.” He explained. 
It was similar to what you had believed, but somehow, worse. 
“Whenever I would see you touch Harry’s arm, or if I would see you and Hermione whispering, talking to each other about stuff you read in the fucking books… or even if I just saw Hermione look at Harry, I thought it was just one more reason I was gonna be alone. I thought it was all of you plotting against me to leave me faster. Bloody bonkers, I know.” 
“Ron.” You said his name gently, your throat clutched by those tears - you put a hand on his cheek and titled his face toward yours, gently laying your forehead against his before you said your next words. “We love you so much. We all do. And after everything we’ve been through together, we’re all just stuck with each other. So you’re definitely not getting rid of us.” 
“I know that now.” Ron chuckled. “I think that’s why it’s easier to wear the damn thing. Because now I just feel… lighter. I don’t feel like you guys are having secrets behind my back. None of us have any secrets anymore.” 
You nodded at this. 
“I like it better this way.” You sighed happily. “Truthfully, I could never see myself just going and… pairing off with someone. I just want it to be like this, always. You, Harry, and Hermione are the only people I’ve ever wanted.” 
“We’re going to need a massive bed, then.” Harry’s voice piped up behind you, his body just barely peeking out of the tent flap, his comment making both you and Ron chuckle.
“S’pose you could afford to buy us one,” Ron commented, causing Harry to roll his eyes and give a very sassy pout. 
“You coming for breakfast or what? Or is your gigantic cock weighing you down and you can’t get up?” Harry replied, his tongue entirely quick. 
You got up off Ron’s lap to let him up, and on his way into the tent, he picked up a handful of frost-covered leaves and shoved them down the back of Harry’s jumper. He let out a yelp at this, causing Hermione to call out ‘boys!’ in that entirely motherly way that she did. 
It was so entirely different, but so entirely the same. Truthfully - you would never want it to be any other way.
...
If you want to see more Poly!Golden Trio fics, I would like to see this fic reach 10 Comments and 15 Reblogs!
(This can include anonymous asks, because I always leave the anon option turned on for people who need it, and I don't care if the 15 reblogs all come from the same person, as long as it shows enthusiasm for the fic.)
If I were to write more Poly!Golden Trio, I don't know if it would be a direct follow up to this or set in the same 'universe' at this fic, but I love the pairing of Poly!Golden Trio x Reader, so I would love to write more about them if you guys want to see it.
I would also love to hear your input/feedback, and if you want to see more, what kind of fanfic ideas would you want to see with this pairing? What kind of kinks or situations would you like to see played out with this pairing? I often take inspiration from requests and random ideas that people send me - just like I did when writing this fic!
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et-2112 · 1 year
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HI KOREY!!! i request Wally fluff where he's just processing the feelings of having a silly little crush!! just because it's cute :D
OF COURSE MY FRIEND ‼️‼️
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❤️🧡💛💙
❤️ Wally didn’t know what to do when the fluttery feelings of a developing crush started overtaking his thought process in every way it could. While he’s painting, he smiles as he always does, but this time it’s because he keeps adding small red hearts around the subject of his art. The piece could be about anything; an apple, a lovely landscape, a portrait, or anything else he’s decided to draw that day, but he simply can’t get his mind off of you and needs to add little touches of his love into the painting to let it out somehow.
🧡 He’ll lay anywhere inside Home for hours, usually facedown, kicking his feet and wondering if he can visualize anything else but you. Apples, he thinks, but then he just sees himself gifting a basket of them to his beloved crush. He kicks his feet faster and covers his face, so unused to the feelings he’s getting.
💛 Whenever he’s speaking with you, his usually monotonous, smoothly slow words come out laced with stammers and halts in speech, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering sillily around and making it difficult for him to form coherent thoughts around you. You’re always so endlessly kind and patient with him, which only makes his helpless crush grow with every time it happens.
💙 While walking outside with Julie, he’s sharing a pleasant conversation with her. His smile is bright, his hands are emoting, and he’s laughing is silly staccato laugh with her as he walks down the street. The moment he sees your house approaching on the horizon, however, he can’t bring himself to do anything but fiddle with his hands in front of him, looking with his face angled down at the ground but still smiling as widely as ever. Julia asks him what’s wrong, but he tells her that nothing is wrong at all — it’s just that he gets so dreadfully nervous whenever he’s near you. She’s confused at first with his use of the word “dreadful”, as you are a very cheery neighbor just as he is, but she quickly realizes what’s going on when she sees his cute blushing face. She informs him with a delighted exclamation that he has a crush, and spends the next thirty minutes gleefully explaining the concept to him. He listens attentively as they talk, resting together on a colorful bench for the last ten minutes. Now that he knows what’s happening to him, he just helplessly falls deeper into love.
❤️ He loves to maintain eye contact with everyone that he loves, but can never seem to hold a gaze with yours for longer than five seconds. You find this unusual for him, but adorable nonetheless, when he looks away flushed in the face with a bashful smile.
🧡 He talks about you fondly to Home when he’s lounging about inside, always answered by wooden knocks and creaks that make him laugh and blush more, understanding Home’s communicative noises as playful teasing about his crush on you.
💛 He wants to tell you about what’s going on in his head, but every time he comes close to doing so, he trips up on his words and he has to collect his thoughts elsewhere to try and prepare to do it again. He considers asking Julie to help tell you for him, but decides against it because it’s his crush and he’s going to make you aware of it. Once he finally manages to inform you with the cutest little smile, he’s quite surprised to hear that you’ve known for a long time. A lot of cheerful explaining and flustered Wally later, it’s revealed that Wally was not subtle about his crush at all. He’s slightly embarrassed, but mostly happy, so excited to be on the same page as you after simmering in his silly crush for weeks.
💙 He still doesn’t quite understand his feelings completely, sometimes even the smallest things make him blush and smile wider when you do them, things which have never made him react in such a way before. He tells himself that It’s significant because it’s his beloved that’s doing them instead of one of his many friends, so it’s special. Sometimes something that happens makes him so happy that he stims or hugs you tightly, making the cutest squeals and happy noises of a silly little puppet man in love.
❤️🧡💛💙
-> Request Post <-
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sparklingchim · 2 years
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addicted; m | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2.9k
genre: pwp, established relationship, college!au, richboy!jk
rating: 18+
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, dumbification 😵‍💫, praising, size kink, tummy bulging, dirty talk, hair pulling, oc has bratty tendencies 🤨, name calling; slut, kookie is so handsome, spit kink !! , breeding kink, creampie, choking, googie's chain dangling in oc's face 🤩, slight overstimulation, jewellery kink? if that exists, cum play
summary: your boyfie jungkook fucking you silly.
a/n: im ovulating. that's my excuse.
masterlist
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
"Kinda want you inside me right now."
You look up at Jungkook, who's totally caught up in the movie playing on the laptop between your bodies.
It's a quiet Tuesday evening. Jungkook had come to your dorm just an hour ago, after doing his workout in the gym.
You had been waiting for him all evening along. You're alone in your dorm, Nayeon, your roommate, is spending her day at her boyfriend's place. It's been a boring day honestly, you've been lounging around in nothing but a black t-shirt from Jungkook after classes.
"Yeah? Want some cockwarming?"
"No," you say, propping your chin on his chest. "More like, want you to rail me." That catches Jungkook's attention. You bat your eyelashes when he sets his gaze on you.
That's all you could think about the minute Jungkook set foot inside your room. He looks hot tonight, has the cuddly boyfriend look on that has your mouth drooling for him. Men should just not be allowed to wear grey sweatpants. They do absolutely no good for the world - except leaving you thirsty for cock. Jungkook's also wearing a black cap. You love his hair, you really do but seeing him with a cap on does some things to you.
Jungkook's not even surprised at your boldness. If he got a penny for every time you asked him to fuck you, he'd be rich - that is, course, if you don't consider that the two of you haven't been dating that long and that, well, Jungkook is already wealthy of money.
"My girl wants to fuck?"
"Uh-huh."
And with that, he spreads his legs and drags your smaller body between him. Your back is flush against his ripped chest. Jungkook's manhandling has made his t-shirt hike up your thighs and your pink panties are perfectly on display for his eyes.
"Could've just told me to get between your legs," you mutter. You'd never confess how much you love it when he manhandles you.
"If you're such a big girl who can handle doing shit on her own, then surely you can get off on your own, hm?"
Oh no. That's not what you wanted to achieve with your brattiness.
"Mh-mhm." You shake your head in a pout. You grab his wrist and draw his hand between your legs. "Please?" You turn to look at him and bat your eyelashes again. You love doing it and Jungkook's loves seeing you pliant for him.
"Why should I?" he asks despite already inching closer to where you're aching the most. The pad of fingers place themselves on the damped spot of your panties. "Too stupid to do it?"
Your breath hitches at his slightest movement. "You just do it better." Your words are barely a whisper.
Jungkook's tatted hand, along with his rings that adorn his knuckles, disappears into your panties. Your legs naturally spread wider for him.
First rule established in your relationship: jewellery stays on during sex.
Jungkook loves wearing jewellery. Is practical obsessed with it. And you, on the other hand, are obsessed with the way how hot they make him look like. Jungkook is a fine fucking man, but his jewellery? His rings, chains, bracelets, earrings, his Rolex ? They got your pussy leaking for him.
Jungkook's got all the expensive jewellery that only rich folks could ever afford - which, weirdly enough, adds to the fact that they make you lose you sanity.
The times Jungkook planted kisses down your body and unintentionally - or maybe intentional after all, you don't know - grazed your pussy with his pendant? An agonising tease, but it made everything much more exciting.
"You're so wet baby," he whispers as he drags the pad of his middle finger across your pussy. "Why haven't you told me sooner, hm? Would've taken care of my girl immediately."
"You looked exhausted when you came in."
"Babe," he chides in a dark, disapproving timbre. You swear it's unintentional but you feel more arousal gushing from your pussy at his low voice. "Y'know I'm never too exhausted to please my sweet girl." Oh. What a beautiful thing to have whispered in your ear. Your pussy likes it too.
"Well," you begin, voice already hoarse cause of your dry throat. "Then you'll have no problem fucking me dumb, right?"
Jungkook chuckles. "What kinda question is this?"
"Oh!" you squeak when Jungkook plunges two fingers inside you. A pathetic whine of Jungkook's name flees past your lips. Your hand bolts to his forearm, nails leaving crescent on his skin at the sudden stretch. 
"Silly girl." Jungkook crooks his fingers. "Asking me to fuck her and then acting so surprised." You such a gasp in when Jungkook starts moving his fingers. He drags them along your sweet spot, the tickled feeling makes your toes curl in ecstasy. 
Your head rolls to the side. Jungkook's heartbeat drums right into your ear. Despite of the obscene scene that plays out right in front of you, the soft beats of Jungkook's heart grant an almost romantic, intimate ambiance.
"Feels so good." You sigh and crane your neck to look up at him. Jungkook's eyes are dark. The second his stare meets yours, a devilish smirk curves his pink lips.
"Yeah?" he asks in feigned sympathy. "You like my fingers?"
"S-so much."
Jungkook nudges your elbow. "Let me see your tits, baby." You sit up a little, lift Jungkook's black t-shirt over your head and toss it on the floor.
He spits on one breast and watches it trickle down over curve of your boob before rubbing it over your pebbled nipple. Your thighs tremble at the added pleasure. With his hand so close you can read the time on his Rolex. It's shortly after 8 pm.
"I love playing with you like this." He rolls your nub between his digits. "My dumb girl lets me do anything to her, doesn't she?"
" 'm your toy," you moan, moving your hips along his rapid movement.
"That's right, baby," he praises. "Just mine." His hand is cupping your jaw now, thumbing over your swollen bottom lip. "So pretty," Jungkook mumbles in your ear. You part your lips and close your mouth around his thumb. An approving sound rumbles from Jungkook's throat. You mindlessly swirl your tongue around his digit as Jungkook's starts fucking you faster.
"You gonna cum for me?" Jungkook can feel your walls clenching around his fingers and adds another to it.
You squeal around Jungkook's thumb, eyebrows tightly furrowed with how much pleasure you're getting.
Jungkook withdraws his finger from your mouth and tilts your head towards him by your jaw. He wants to look at you when you cum.
Wet sounds of your pussy fill the room, alongside your desperate moans - and the movie still playing in the background but that was already long forgotten between the two of you.
"That's it. Cum for me, babe." Jungkook squeezes your tit with his other hand.
"Shit, I'm- I'm-
Your whole body tingles when the delight reaches its peak and finally spills over. Your nails claw at his thighs and you squeeze your eyes shut when the prickle overwhelms you.
"Good girl." You're barely able to hear his voice, your high taking over all your senses. You go limp in his arms, legs trembling. Jungkook sprinkles sweet kisses on your jaw, but his fingers remain inside you, slower but still moving.
You're writhing in his arms. "Jungkook."
"I love playing with your pussy," he teases. "Fuck, hear how wet it is? All for me?"
Yes, you definitely hear it. You're wetter than every fucking ocean in this world combined and the squelching sounds are so obscene you don't even wanna know how his fingers feel right now.
You seize his wrist. "Gukkie, please."
"Can't take anymore?" he taunts.
"Too much." You sigh relieved when he removes his sneaky hand from your throbbing pussy, though he can't withstand to land one last teasing smack on your clit. You shake in his arms a whine falling past your lips.
Jungkook holds his glistening fingers in front of your mouth. Without much to say you take them in your mouth and suck them clean. When you're done Jungkook puts them in his mouth, tasting both the remnants of your cum and your saliva.
"Kiss me," you say when he's done tasting you. You know his cap is gonna be in the way, so you pull it off his head.
"Is there any moment in life where you don't look good?" you complain. He's had that stupid cap on for God knows how long, and yet his hair looks perfect. "It's unfair."
Whether if it's his morning hair, his after shower hair, his i just ran through my hair ten times cos im stressed about my exams or his we started baking and it ended up in a flour flight in the kitchen and now i have flour poured all over me, his hair still manages to look like he could do a photoshoot for the front cover of Elle Korea.
"Of course there is, babe," he starts but before he can finish you shush him with your finger on his mouth.
"Keep your corny compliments for yourself. I'm not giving you head tonight."
Jungkook clicks his tongue. "Why do you think that's the only reason why I would give you compliments?"
"Cause you always think with your dick."
"C'mere," he just says, ignoring your words.
He tilts your head up by your chin and clashes his mouth on yours. The taste of your cum is still lingering on both your tongues. Your hand finds his throbbing cock and you stroke him through his sweatpants. You can't recall when he got hard, you were too absorbed in your own pleasure to notice.
"Lie on your back for me," Jungkook says after the kiss.
While you make yourself comfortable on your back, Jungkook carefully closes your laptop and puts it on your bedside table. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the soft pink fabric of your panties flying across the room. He then he removes all his clothing and crawls back onto the bed.
Jungkook positions himself between your spread legs. He jerks his cock a few times and has his dark, fiery eyes on you.
You look so small under him. So fragile and vulnerable. He wants to keep you in his pocket and protect you forever.
"Such a pretty pussy." He traces his head over your glistening cunt, smearing your wetness all over you. And because Jungkook can't get enough of seeing your pussy all wet for him, he pushes his cock out of the way and spits directly on it. You have to hand it to him, he aims better than any man you've ever met. Jungkook spreads the added lubrication over your folds. You whimper beneath him. He's just teasing you and your mind is already foggy from all the bliss.
"Please, Koo," you plead. "Please fuck me."
"Always so needy." But still, he gives you what you want. He aligns his head on your entrance and slowly pushes his cock inside until is deeply sheathed between your greedy walls.
He stays like this for a second, allows you a few seconds to come accustomed to his size.
"God, you're so big." You still welcome the stretch his dick gives your pussy every time.
"But your little pussy can take it, right?" Jungkook pulls back, until only the beginning of his tip is left inside. And with a strong thrust of his hips, he's back inside you again.
Your back arches off the back and Jungkook watches you through lidded eyes. "I love fucking you like this," he says, his hands on both your knees. "Look so fucking hot." His eyes trails down to your tits bouncing every time he thrusts into you.
"I love your cock," you respond because damn that's literally the only thing you can thing about right now. It's just feels so good.
"There's only cock in your mind, isn't? The only thing you always fucking think about?" Jungkook's pace increases and all your rational thoughts are chased away with it.
"There's nothing in there, is it?" Jungkook  rasps and grabs a fistful of your hair. The pain from your scalp hurtles through your whole body. "Just needy thoughts, huh?" His silver fleur-de-lis chain dangles in front of your face as he comes closer. He's careful not do smack you in the face with it.
"Thought of you all day long," you mewl, palming your breast.
"Yeah? Thought of me fucking your tiny pussy?"
"God, yes."
The moment Jungkook smooths his ringed hand over the expanse of your tummy and presses his palm to your lower tummy it's officially over for you.
Your head rolls to your side and breathy moans escape your plush lips. The pressure Jungkook puts on your tummy makes you feel woozy in the head.
"You like that?" he asks and you're barely able to find strength to nod. "I can feel my cock moving inside you." Jungkook switches his thrusts into a languid fashion. His eyes are attached to where his tatted hand is resting. He can see it - he can see the bulge of his cock in your tummy. "Oh, fuck." He could never get over how fucking hot it looks like. Seeing your tiny pussy taking his big cock will always make him want to nut inside you right then and there. Jungkook grabs your hand that isn't currently occupied with tweaking your nipple and situates it right where his hand had been. "You're feeling this, baby?" Jungkook covers his hand over yours and your hand completely vanishes beneath his. "You feel how my cock is stretching your little pussy open?"
"Uh-huh," you press out, dragging out the sound until it morphs into a moan as Jungkook starts picking up on his pace again.
"Lost your words?" Jungkook sneers. "What a brain dead slut you are for me."
You whimper in response, reaching for his chain to drag him closer. His hand finds your throat once again. It quickly embraces your neck and his fingers make it harder to breath. The watchstrap of his Rolex pokes your skin but you're already used to the chafing feeling. Jungkook is so close to you, you can feel his ragged breathing fanning on your face.
"You're my pathetic little slut, aren't you?"
"Y-yes."
"Open your mouth for me," he demands.
You do, with your tongue sticking out slightly. He lets a drop of saliva fall from his mouth and again it lands right where he wants it to, this time on your tongue. And you swallow, like the obedient little girl you are for him.
He feels your throat bobbing and hums satisfied. "Such a good girl."
Jungkook draws back again, grabbing both your ankles and throws your legs over his shoulders.
Your eyes roll at the back of your head. "Jungkook," you whine. You're so close to cumming again, you feel like you're gonna see stars.
"You're gonna cum, aren't you?"
"Yes - fuck - yes, I'm so close!"
Jungkook thrusts his cock inside just the way you like it.
You relish in the way he forces himself into your pussy, heady and intoxicating pleasure. You tip over the edge, panting a moan of Jungkook's name as you cum onto Jungkook’s rock-hard length. Mind-numbing satisfaction that spreads all over you, hot and melting into you. 
"That's my girl." Jungkook slows down, giving you kisses all over your neck as he rolls his hips into you.
He rides out your high. You're too fucked out to do anything for a moment and just enjoy Jungkook pampering you with kisses.
"Good job," he praises you once again and you feel your heart flutter. God, he's too good at this.
But you could to the same. "Cum inside me," you beg.
That sentence? Heaven in Jungkook's ears. You don't let him cum inside you that often but oh fuck, when you allow him to it drives him crazy.
Jungkook groans into the pillow next to you. "Yeah? Want me to knock you up?"
"Uh-huh. Want you to fill me up."
"Fuck," he moans and it sounds so fucking pretty you think you're falling in love with him all over again.
One of your hand moves to his chest and you softly flick your index against his nipple.
"I'm gonna cum." Jungkook throws his head back and goes sloppy in his movements. He spills all his seed into you until he shoves his cock deep inside you one last time.
Jungkook's head drops down in the crook of your neck and you thread your fingers through his hair. He stays like that for a while, his dick still inside.
When Jungkook starts peppering kisses over your neck and then chest and then face, you know he's come back to his senses. If you're honest, you still feel woolly in your head but Jungkook has always been better at handling the post nut clarity than you.
You poke Jungkook in the side with your feet. "Jungkook, let me pee."
"Let me love you, woman."
"You weigh a ton," you groan as you try to push him off you.
At that, he perks up and looks at you with narrowed eyes. "I take full offense to that. I've worked hard to build these muscles," he says. "But I get it. Someone like you-" He takes hold of your weak, undefined arm and looks at you pityingly. "Would never understand."
You giggle and playfully swat his chest.
"Just let me go and pee, you dummy."
9K notes · View notes
thelov3lybookworm · 7 months
Text
Remember Me? (Part three)
Part 1 Part 2
Summary: Under the Mountain, Y/n met the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. She was scared of him, but soon she found out that he wasn't who he pretended to be. Despite her efforts at not falling in love with him, she fails. It's not that bad as he loves her back.
But now he's gone, and she's left alone with nothing.
Except for a very adorable reminder of him.
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Tw: secret pregnancy, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: sorry this one's a little short, but I thought I shouldn't keep you all waiting for long. Hopefully things would speed up in the story after this. Enjoy!
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A knock sounded on the door, and her son immediately jumped up, running towards it.
Y/n followed him, shaking her head with a smile. She opened the door while he hopped from one foot to the other. As soon as the door opened, a little body darted in, and Fin and his friend– his brother– ran off into the living room where her son had already spread out his toys.
Feyre called after Nyx, saying something about manners and etiquette, but Y/n told her to let the child be. Feyre then turned to Y/n, a nervous expression on her face.
"Hi. Um... I hope I not intruding. Nyx wouldn't rest until he met with his brother." Then she added hastily, "That's how he described Finnian."
Y/n smiled. "It's okay. You're not intruding. And Fin is happy too, so no harm done."
Feyre finally relaxed. "Rhys doesn't know about this. I told him that i was taking Nyx out for a mother son day in Velaris."
Y/n smiled gratefully as the two women walked to the living room. She knew she could trust Feyre. And even if her judgement was false, then atleast Rhys wasn't here yet. So that was progress.
As the two little boys played, their mothers talked. At first, it started with talking about their pasts and childhood. How they grew up, and that, despite the vast differences in their living conditions, they had mostly same lives. Feyre was poor, and she didn't have the freedom to explore things that would have caught any little girl's fancy because she was busy trying to keep the family going.
And how, despite Y/n having been born in a rich family, she didn't have any freedom. Because, being of the elite class came with more shackles. She had to dress up and sit all pretty, waiting for when her father eventually decided to sell her off.
They talked and laughed, forgetting they were supposed to hate each other. They didn't notice how long they sat there until it was time to leave. Feyre abruptly stopped talking, her eyes going distant before focusing back on Y/n. She smiled helplessly.
"It was Rhys. He was asking when we were going to return."
"Oh. You're leaving?"
"We have to, or he might become suspicious or insist on joining us. He thinks we are just having a walk around Velaris." Turning to the boys who were drawing, sprawled on the floor, Feyre stood up. "Nyx, come. We have to go."
"No." Nyx whined. "I want to play more."
Feyre blinked, taken aback. "Dad– daddy's waiting for us. Don't you want to go out with him and play?"
"Tell him to play with uncle Cass and Az." Nyx didn't look up from whatever they were drawing, looking at Fin's paper before going back to his.
"He could be missing you."
"But I'm not missing him." The little boy sat up as Fin watched the exchange happening between his brother and his mother. Y/n could practically see the gears churning in his brilliant little head, but she was not sure what might be going on there.
"He should go to sleep. If he sleeps, time will pass quickly for him and he will not miss me in his sleep." Nyx splayed his palms, speaking as if Feyre was a child and she was refusing to understand something of importance.
Y/n huffed out a laugh as Feyre hid her smile behing a hand. She then spoke gently, trying to convince Nyx. "We have important work to do at home baby. We'll meet with Fin again sometime soon." She faltered, glancing at Y/n, who turned to Nyx.
"Yes Nyx, your mommy is right. You should go home to your daddy. You can come here whenever you want to play with your brother." Feyre smiled gratefully at her when Nyx finally stood up.
Before they left, the boys embraced each other and Y/n kissed Nyx's cheek, Feyre doing the same for Fin.
At night when Y/n was getting Fin ready for bed, he asked something that stopped Y/n's whole world.
"Mama... where is my daddy? I want a daddy too." His voice was so quiet, if she hadn't been listening to it intently, she wouldn't have heard him over the sound of rain pouring heavily over Velaris. "I do have a daddy, don't I? Everyone has a daddy right?"
She froze, her hand resting on his shoulder as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Darling... yes, you do have a daddy. But why do you want to meet him? Did someone say something?"
"Sam was playing with his dad yesterday, and this morning he asked where my dad was. I told him I didn't have one, but he laughed at me. He said everyone has a daddy. And then Nyx was also talking about his daddy today, though it seemed like he didn't want to meet him."
Tears pricked in Y/n eyes, but she tamped it down. She didn't know how to answer his questions. This little boy was so innocent and full of life, and she didn't want to break his world by telling him the truth. He wasn't old enough for that. So she did the only thing that she could think of. She lied.
"You do have a daddy, but he has some important work somewhere else. As soon as he's done, he'll come back to you."
"Really?" When she nodded, he jumped excitedly. "Did he love me like Nyx's and Sam's daddy love them?"
"Yes baby, he loves you very much. But don't you think we should go to sleep? We can talk about this tomorrow."
Fin nodded happily before plopping down on her bed. She smiled, swallowing the lump in her throat.
He had been sleeping with her since the encounter with Rhys had left her reeling. Everywhere she went, she was always looking over her shoulder, feeling like he was watching them. Even in her own home she felt unsafe. She had this fear that Rhys would whisk her precious son away in the middle of the night when she was unaware.
A knock sounded before she could get into bed, and she furrowed her brow. Who could be here at this hour?
She stood and made her way to the front door, and stilled when she opened the door to find a beautiful male standing there dripping wet from the rain.
She wasn't shocked because of the fact that someone would be here seeking shelter from the rain. What shocked her was the person. Who it was.
Eris.
"Hello little one." He smiled at someone behind her shoulder, and she stiffened again.
"Hi!" Fin laughed, waving. "You're here!"
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Part 4
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comicaurora · 8 months
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Following off of, but moving away slightly from all the Fate talk: If you were to write a ‘King Arthur but female’ story, how would you go about it? What would you look for in such a story?
I can think of a couple ways I'd do it!
First, the easy part. Sword in the anvil/stone, whosoever draws it forth is the rightful king of England. Well shit, that little peasant girl just pulled it out like it was nothing. Hail to the king, any objections can be directed to The Indomitable Soul Of Albion Herself.
Or, if ancient England accepting a lady king is too much of a stretch, Merlin has a habit of helping people out with magical disguises. If necessary - and if it would be fun from a story standpoint - our peasant girl of Secret Noble Heritage could get a magical disguise that lets her appear male. Could even go full fairy tale and do something like having her appear as her true self at night, and King Arthur during the day. If we really wanted to blend it, we could let her female identity be Morgan le Fay, Merlin's student with an affinity for dark times. However, doing that would spoil the potential gay drama of letting Morgan be a powerful villainess who learns Arthur's true identity early on, and that might be too good to pass up. And since Arthur's eventual destiny is to be taken to Avalon by Morgan to sleep until England's greatest hour of need, that gets Cool Layers if we let them have a whole enemies-to-lovers thing going throughout.
Arthuriana is extremely loose in the canon department anyway, so while there are touchpoints I'd want to hit, we'd have a lot of freedom of movement in how we'd hit them. This would basically just add layers of characterization to how Arthur would handle the various adventures she gets into - especially if she feels the need to obscure her identity from some or all of her knights. There's a surplus of damsels in various folktales that could be Arthur stuck in her secret identity due to Magical Hijinks.
Unfortunately, Guinevere's foundational role in the story almost always involves her sleeping with dudes who are not Arthur, and since the overall story of Camelot is a tragedy whose downfall is brought on by a schism in the royal family, we might need to keep that for thematic consistency. And it takes on layers if we stick with the "Arthur's public identity, at least at first, is a Dude" thing, because - shocking as this may be - some people actually aren't even a little bit gay, and if Guinevere ended up politically wedded to Arthur only to learn that her husband is in fact not her preferred gender of lover, she might not be jazzed about that.
Other than that, let the cool swordfights and quests remain unchanged and I think you've got a good recipe for episodic character drama.
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