#Y'ALL ARE JUST NEVER GONNA LET HIM LIVE THAT LINE DOWN HUH

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟷 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

there's us and the dead.

this is what takes us down.

the tragedy of their loss cannot be overstated.

i'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again

you should've seen the look on his face when i punched out his front teeth.

you're still a dumbass.

nice moves there, clint eastwood.

i think tomorrow i'm gonna blow my brains out.

y'all be more polite to a man with a gun!

zero tolerance for walkers.

that's the biggest lie there is.

we're safe here.

it's not a toy.

i know how the safety works.

keep drinking, little man.

do not enter the city.

bright side, it'll be the fall that kills us.

you may think you do but you don't.

living underground doesn't help; not knowing if it's day or night.

wish i could have done it a month ago.

friend, you need glasses.

there's good news?

it was worth every minute of it just to see that prick spit his teeth out on the ground.

i finally got the scrubbers in the east sector shut down to save power.

there were dozens of 'em.

eww. that's nasty.

maybe we got a second chance.

help me now, show me the way.

i didn't behave, i know.

screw you, man.

sometimes they fall short.

you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond."

you the new sheriff come riding in to clean up the town?

cozy in there?

the only reason i got away was 'cause the dead were too busy eating my family.

i don't even know why i'm talking to you.

that's my boy.

this is our extinction event.

how far do you think i can chuck this, huh?

things are different now.

if you see anything, holler. i'll come running.

go on, tell me what to do.

hey kid, what'd you do before all this?

what are the odds, huh?

i know what i want to say.

i see a chance to make a new start.

i remember my dream now.

i ain't begged you before, i ain't gonna start begging now.

i know i'm being punished.

it wasn't my intention.

i can't let a man die of thirst.

i wanna see how red your face can get.

the world ended, didn't you get the memo?

we survive this by pulling together, not apart.

anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose.

it scares the fish.

thought i'd get to drive at least for a few more days.

i'll give you a moment to think about that.

i'm sorry this happened to you.

i'm old enough.

it belongs to the dead now.

maybe we'll get to steal another one someday.

nobody is gonna hurt you, okay?

they came out of nowhere.

saves me the embarrassment.

that's the bad news.

can i learn to shoot?

you pull the trigger, you have to mean it.

not many people get that.

bites kill you.

just...feeling very...off.

words can be meager things.

what he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me.

what do you say to that?

guess the world changed.

the fever burns you out, but then after a while... you come back.

hell yes you're gonna learn.

you heard me, bitch.

the weak get taken.

there's no clinical progress to report.

still not sleeping well, can't seem to keep regular hours.

we gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon.

we are surviving here.

too bad i never studied engineering.

yeah, whatever, yee haw.

they might not seem like much one at a time, but in a group all riled up and hungry, man you watch your ass.

one thing i do know, don't you get bit.

we don't kill the living.

no crying in the boat.

i bet there isn't a single son of a bitch still listening out there, is there?

that's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.

you don't know what it's like out there.

you're surrounded by walkers.

we don't have to be afraid anymore.

who voted you king boss?

we left him like an animal caught in a trap.

the line is pretty clear.

admit it, you only came back to atlanta for the hat.

i can see you make a habit of missing the point.

it's only a matter of time.

is this real?

there's us and the dead.

you got a problem?

there's too many of those things.

i never told them what i really thought.

i ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard.

i'm a glass half full kinda guy.

it's the same as it ever was.

who the hell are you, man?!

[sun-undone]

i'm finishing up yet another rewatch because when am i not rewatching this godforsaken show and all throughout season 2, i kept honing in on all the times we see JJ with that fucking flask and how it is NEVER ADDRESSED. the most we get are the two moments in 2x01 and 2x03 when Kie's telling him to chill out before school and then when she takes the flask from his hand when she thinks he's asleep.

the fact that the closest we got to any acknowledgement of that being a deeper problem was always framed around jiara???? and now we know from the EW articles that JJ's mental health is gonna be a bigger deal (thank fucking god pates i love you and i never said anything bad about y'all) in season 3, which is the jiara season??????? it's all connected and i truly cannot believe i am praising writers for basic set up and payoff but !!!!!! i really thought the flask was their half-assed way of giving JJ some kind of individual arc when they totally dropped all his other plot lines (restitution and Luke/abuse trauma) but i could not be more happy to be proven wrong.

(i mean, they might be talking a big game now, it all comes down to the actual execution but i'm still so fucking excited that they've specifically mentioned taking a look at the pogues' mental states and it gives me a lot of hope okay)

everyone's already said this but i really think we're gonna see JJ struggling hardcore with being back home and not knowing what his place is as the dynamic of the pogues has changed so much. Cleo and Pope are paired off, since we now have confirmation that she'll be staying with him and his family. John B is gonna be reunited with his father, and he and Sarah have got each other as well. Kie has her parents to go back to, as strained as that relationship is. JJ is very clearly the odd one out.

poguelandia is the first time that JJ has ever been away from the obx. he has never existed outside the bubble of what it means to be a Maybank in the obx. so he's gotta feel so free, right?? he can provide for his family by fishing and they can get by just well enough to survive and live off the land and they have each other, and that's always been enough for JJ.

and if he and Kie gravitate closer on poguelandia like we all think they will, then all of that happiness and a taste of his surf trip dream will suddenly get ripped away from him when they have to go back home, and he's absolutely gonna spiral. he's gonna pull away and deflect and overcompensate with alcohol and use all the other immature coping mechanisms we've seen him use before, and i am so fucking ready for this angst holy shit cause there's just been so much set up for it. the pates love a fast burn so i think we were all kinda worried about the slow burn with jiara, but my expectations are officially sky high. i'm so glad that they're using the established character flaws and insecurities for JJ as part of the angst, and i'm assuming Kie's issues with her parents will be the external force adding onto that and making it even angstier.

it's not mind-blowing writing whatsoever, but after season 2 kinda let us down in terms of giving us insight into JJ's headspace, i'm just over the moon to see that it might've all been a set up for something bigger. they knew they wanted to save the deep dive into JJ's trauma for the jiara season because it's so integral to understanding how JJ receives and doesn't receive love. you can't put JJ in a romantic plot line without addressing all that trauma and self-hatred, and it's something fic writers have created masterpieces about and i can't stop saying it but i am just so fucking happy that the pates are putting it in canon. they really do care about these characters huh

if season 3 ends up being a disaster and the trauma plot line is disappointing as hell then no one saw this i didn't write it you didn't read it

[jstarr86]

CH 2

NAT POV

I checked over my reflection in the mirror. Another year another Christmas party. My mom and Joes mom always threw one and it was a big deal like half his family came and these guys had a big family. Josh had been weird the past few months hell I remember my birthday asking if he was mad at me and he said no and we argued because I called him out on how he'd been acting. Walking out I bumped into a brick wall and looked up meeting Josh's brown eyes.

"Sorry uce." I muttered hands on his chest.

"You good snickers I ain't know you was up here." I rolled my eyes playfully as I nudged him. That nickname stuck. Thicker than a snicker and it stuck. Him Jon and Joe started saying it the minute I started getting curves at first it was what the hell happened to you because I got curves and a ass and tits seemingly overnight at 12 and by 13  the nickname had stuck and they also started practically being guard dogs and wanting to kill any guy who wanted near me. Hence why I was a damn virgin until I'd asked Joe; truthfully as much as I thought Joe and Jon were hot there was just always something about Josh that once I started to notice boys and how hot my three best friends were I developed a crush but wouldn't say anything because I didn't want it to be weird and I never asked Josh because of that I'd be embarrassed if he'd said no and hurt and secondly I didn't think Jon would let us live it down and I didn't wanna constantly hear about it. Josh still had his hands firmly on my waist as he slid one behind my back pulling me into his chest more than I was as I looked up at him as he started smirking.

"J, what you doing." He pointed up and my eyes followed seeing the mistletoe hanging over our heads.

"You know what they say right." He replied softly as I gulped slowly nodding

"So what about it?" He took a hand off me to grip my face in his hand as he pulled my face in bending his head as he placed his full lips against mine. I gasped in shock as I quickly slid my hands to his face as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. I'd only kissed Joe but with Josh it was all way different. Jesus he could kiss, everything including the noise from downstairs of our families mingling faded as we kissed and Josh and I walked no we  ran across a line that was like the damn end zone, end game, this was like every cheesy girl movie and weird romance novel I knew my mom read. This is that soulmate kiss like everything in the puzzle finally fit.

"Aye uce you see- oh shit!"

"What?-oh shit!" Jon and Joes voices snapped us out of it as we jerked back looking at them Josh never removing his hands from me and I had my face hiding in his chest.

"Snickers and Ucey uce y'all getting it in with the mistletoe."

"Shut up Jonathan." I said as he looked at me.

"Aye im just sayin and bout time shit uce been pawnin over you for months naw years."

"What?" I said looking at him.

"What 13 hit hard."

"Why ain't you say anything? Oh my god I'm just like all them girls be talkin-"

"No you not." All three said.

"Yes I am."

"Snick no you aren't." Joe said softly. Knowing everything going through my head. They all knew when something bothered me but I guess being so close with Joe he could read me like a book.

"Yeah I am. Josh." I sighed looking at him "we can't hook up, like that kiss was bomb and they interrupted it but you not gonna want me."

"Why your beautiful look I know being best friends with us is weird but I know you felt-"

"I slept with Joe." I blurted out as they all looked at me

"And that means what?"

"Josh for real I fucked your cousin what it gonna look like if we hook up; I'm really keeping it in the family huh."

"Snickers I've known for a few months you and uce hooked up, wish you would've asked me to take the vCard because I wouldn't have said no because I like you too  but I get it you've known him longer and y'all bond different. and fuck every one else hell no one even know about that but us."

"You knew? You told him?" I asked Joe who held his hands up.

"No he did."

"Jon!" I protested "you told Jon, ugh Leati Joesph Anoai, I can't tell you anything."

"Oooo you in trouble uce she done said your government."

"Look I walked in and they were talking and he was pissed at me."

"Yeah I told uce Snickers, he was saying he liked you and was trying find a way to tell you and I told him about you and Joe." I looked over at Josh who still had his arm around me.

"I didn't know."

"Me either and I was mad he got you first I'm tired of always competing with my brothers and shit thought here's a girl they wouldn't go for don't know why and then uce told me you and uce hooked up and he walked in at the end, you mad I told you?"

"I like you too Joshua." I said gently.

"Say it again?"

"I like you too Josh-" he cut me off kissing me again before pulling back.

"Your not fucking my brother."

"Oh my god Josh."

"What you ain't and fuck all them bitches who said your with all of us they just mad they not and mad you really could pull us with ya fine ass.

"Josh"

"It's true."

"Yeah well his girlfriend helped make it worse." I said pointing at Jon

"Aye I broke up with her thank you."

"Yeah and that made it worse because then it was a you left cause of me."

"How many times we gotta tell you haters gon hate."

It took three weeks for my three best friends to get me to date Josh. I was so worried about what others people would think if they ever knew I'd lost my virginity to Joe but was now dating Josh. I'd felt it give weight to people running their mouths like they already did. Dating Josh was a lot different than being friends with Josh, he was always loving but when it's geared towards you a different way it's different but I liked it, he was sweet and romantic and the day Eki and his dad found out they grilled his ass like I was their kid not that he was their son and nephew Eki said you hurt her ima beat your ass. Our first date we went and watched a scary movie Final Destination and grabbed dinner from some pizza place and Josh he'd shown up with my favorite flowers, roses and sunflowers. They were compiled together in a beautiful bouquet. Our first date I mean I'd always known my friends were special but this was when I realized Josh was different.

3 MONTHS LATER

I sat my back against Josh's headboard and his head in my lap. We were hanging out spending some time together, homework was done and Jon, Joe and the little brothers Sefa and Jeremiah were in the living room doing who knows what, Josh and I just wanted alone time. We could hear them down the hall from where the door was cracked.

"When did you start liking me?" I asked suddenly as his head turned from the tv towards me my fingers trailing over the red durag that covered his faded hair.

"Middle of 8th grade. I mean I guess starting like summer 6th and in 7th I started noticing you as more than a friend but it was like full blown like I wanna date her and kiss her til 8th."

"Why did you wait til half through freshman year to say anything to me about it? Did anyone know?"

"I ain't wanna be weird or creep you out, we best friends I ain't wanna ruin anything by saying something and you not feeling the same then shit changin and being weird. I'd rather not say anything and have you than tell you and anything change and no until I finally told Jon when he asked why I was being weird around you ain't no one know."

"I wish you'd told me."

"It took a bit but I did, wish I'd said something sooner too. So when you start liking me?"

"Hey I was asking questions not you."

"I am now though so when?"

"When we was 13, I started noticing boys more and of course I'd notice y'all hell every girl in PCola noticed y'all."

"Yeah we fine."

"Josh." I giggled as we both laughed. He touched my face gently making me look at him. He lifted up on his elbows kissing me. He licked my lips asking for more and I opened my mouth as we went from kissing to making out within a few minutes. He sat up moving between my legs kissing me as we both moaned.

"Aye uce what-" we jumped apart as Jon walks in a smirk on his face "shit you lucky I wasn't mom she'd beat both your asses."

"Excuse you your mother loves me, unlike the hoes you be having in here."

"My girlfriend is not a hoe."

"Nah she's just a bitch." Josh chuckled kissing my neck as he moved off me. It was no secret me and Jon's girlfriend couldn't stand each other and it wasn't for my lack of trying. However she was rude anytime she was around to me just a rude nasty bitch that at this point only Jon liked and she was wearing his ass out on it too.

"What you want uce?" Josh asked and I could hear the annoyance in his voice, upset Jon had walked in.

"Mom wanted kno what to make for dinner should tell her you havin dessert already."

"Jon shut up we watching a movie."

"Nah y'all was about to fuck, watching a damn movie playin tonsil hockey."

"Oh my god we was kissing it was a kiss."

"Oh that was more than a kiss hell if I wanted longer the bed be banging." I tossed a pillow at him that he easily caught tossing it back.

"Your not gonna have a twin."

"You're not gonna hurt him."

"But I wanna."

"Mmm you look cute pouting juicy lips." He said kissing me again.

"Mmm." I replied pulling back. "Nah you the juicy one, ucey jucey. Thick ass soft lips. I really like kissing you."

"Me too." In the three months we'd been dating I found out kissing him was becoming one of my favorite things. I simply couldn't get enough of Josh. I wish we had more classes together though. He groaned as I gently nipped his bottom lip grabbing a handful of my ass. A bang on the door had him rollling his eyes as he got up opening the door, the attitude immediately leaving him as his uncle stood there."yes sir."

"I know you ain't in here doing anything."

"No just hanging and talking, we done with homework."

"Mhmm you know I'm not stupid right."

"I'm being honest uncle Eki." He looked over at me over Josh's shoulder.

"We just studied and did homework and were talking." He started laughing nudging Josh

"Dinners done oh and nephew."

"Yes sir."

"Wipe the lips gloss off your lips."

[star-mum]

i want to start by saying fUCKING FINALLY (this is no one's fault but my own)

second thing, tUMBLR REFUSES TO LET ME REBLOG ???? so I'll have to try on my laptop later (hoping the issue is my phone)

"Well - it’s your watch" CANT HAVE SHIT AROUND HERE

"to pretend she didn’t hate killing something so cute and innocent in order to eat it" I could never live in the wilderness, even if for a short period of time (I wasn't built for this shit, I'll die oops sorry)

"It was something that he did best" live in an enclosed space? "He was a chronic pouter" ahhh yes sksksks

"And of course - there was the sex" some of y'all forgot what we we're doing here, not me tho KSKSKS

"It’s not like you set out to be some scamming harlet" that makes One of us

"treehouse that the Burrow used to have before Fred and George blew it up" unrelated (kinda) but this reminded me that recently 3 of my friends shared they set fire to things in their childhoods (one of them multiple times) and now those are Brasil's future psychologist skskkss

"Ron only ate half his food before not-so-subtly scooping the rest into your bowl" 😖😖😖

"Ron giving you his food was something that had been happening more and more lately" oh no this is a sad story

"she had trapped Rita Skeeter inside that jar" I love book!Hermione, what an actual psycho <3

"Naturally, they both ignored you" this is the world's most interesting tennis match, I awfully enjoy this, love the drama, actually

"He had been wearing the Locket for nearly two days now" I get that this is a stressing situation but they're all idiots

"the worst cases where you truly needed to break through to him, you ended up with your mouth on his cock" wouldn't hurt to try 👀

"Was he your boyfriend?" I feel like if you have to ask then maybe not, angle 💔

"Ron had never been this mean before" still, mean!Dom Ron is so right and real tho, like yeah of course, you're never wrong Sunny

"your pants and underwear and ripped them down all at once" DUDE WE BUY MORE FUCKING CLOTHES

"the very obvious signs of fucking - that drew Hermione’s attention back toward the tent" well at least she Did sort out her priorities "in the back of Hermione’s mind that screamed ‘that is where we eat, this is not sanitary" well kind of

"if there was any boner killer in the world, it was Hermione’s whiny, authoritative voice calling him by his full name" I love it when they're The Worsties (instead of besties)

"He was far more afraid of anything she would do to him than whatever vague threats Harry had made earlier" I mean she did kidnap a woman and put her in a jar at 14 yo, so yeah I get it

“You’ve been wearing it this whole time-?” WHERE DID YOU THINK IT WAS HERMIONE???? HUH ???? UP MY ASS ?????

"'Did Ron cum inside of you?' Harry choked on his own spit at the filthiness of her words 'Didn’t give me the bloody chance to'" favorite fucking piece of dialog "Well, Ronald, if you behave yourself, then maybe you’ll get to cum inside me tonight" IT GETS BETTER

"and close the tent flap so that nobody’s bits got cold" VERY important step

"Harry was well - hairy" funniest sentence in this entire thing (and there have been many funny lines)

"Ron let out a throaty chuckle at this, highly amused" YOU AND YOUR GIANT MONSTER COCK STAY OUT OF THIS

“You know Harry, you don’t have to keep starin’ at it.” Ron joked. “It’s not gonna bite you, mate" this has no business being this funny

“I want to… what is it that Hermione said? ‘Try it out’" which is Very ambitious of you, I gotta say

"'All of you are degenerates' Hermione sighed, shaking her head" do you wanna share with the class what you just did ?

"when he made a grab for Hermione’s ass, groped her so boldly through her loose sweatpants" :O

"Or is your gigantic cock weighing you down and you can’t get up?” SKDKSKSK STOP

King For A Day

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!

[nofliight]

PIT DOESN’T JUST EAT ICE CREAM OFF THE FLOOR BY DEFAULT GUYS OH MY GOD

[kaitsawamura]

would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮   Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮  Rating: M (for mature)  ⎮  WC: 5525  ⎮   Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader  ⎮   Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint)  ⎮  AO3

NOTES⎮  Thanks to @spacelabrathor​ for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome​ for fueling my Kiri fever dreams.  Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp.  Hope y'all enjoy!  (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar.  But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it.  They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself.  Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.  

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer.  You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet.  He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally…  and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time.  It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it.  Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people.  You’d have the whole place to yourselves.  Like that should mean something.  Which it did.  It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach.  Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago.  Neither of you had made a move.  Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with.  It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on.  But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency.  The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse. 

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk.  But he was just like that you had quickly discovered.  He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch.  He knew when to push and when to back off.  He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn.  The kids flocked to him.  Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him.  It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts.  The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there?  You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly.  It isn’t big.  You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses.  Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous.  But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time.  Clean, straight lines and lots of windows.  In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door.  Is that a pool ?  Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro.  The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth.  You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out!  I mean, that would have been fine, of course.  I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.”  He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool.  “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!”  You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym.  I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely.  You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here.  The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves.  But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins.  You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago.  And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs.  No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side.  Shit.  His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you.  He has to know .  Doesn’t he?  From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .  

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive.  Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard.  You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping.  It’s so green .  There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna.  Violets, tulips.  Huge hosta plants.  And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.  

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!”  He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it?  I guess it is pretty nice, huh?”  You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile.  You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.”  You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.  After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet.  “What are you thinking for today?”  The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat.  You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?”  You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan.  The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips.   He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick.  You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet.  He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display.   Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri.  I just don’t want to wear you out .  You’re a Pro Hero.  You’re on the job a lot more than I am.  Plus, you’re getting kind of old.  Is that a little gray I see coming in?”  Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair.  There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted.  Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.”  Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw.  His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip.  His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment.  You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity.  He looks as if he’s going to devour you.  You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body.  A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up.  The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin.  The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen.  You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat.  The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym.  You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment.  When you could give extra attention with extra time. 

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you.  You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk.  Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit.  Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist.  It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk.  Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk.  It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills.  The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy.  You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well.  You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven.  His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice.  You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out.  It surges through you like pure energy.  

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook.  This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt.  Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet.  He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?”  He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach.  You were fast, but still not always fast enough.  You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in.  Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top.  You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over.  “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard.  You good?”  

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable.  He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late.  You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today.  Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back.  But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core.  He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours.  You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before…  “Fuuu-.”  It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open.  You’re seeing stars.  Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again.  You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun.  You snort, rolling your eyes.  Why does he still look so fucking good?  The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl.  His hair has curl to it?  You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes.  You like the curl.  “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?”  It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms.  “I’m thinking not.  Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.”  You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows.  Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.   

“Is that any way to treat your student,  Red Riot?”  You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll.  He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space.  You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.  

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth.  “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher.  I’m not that much older than you.  Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?”  He’s so fucking close.  This is getting dangerous.  Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance.  Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass.  Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.  

So you fall back on what you’re here to do.  Fight.  You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away.  His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared.  He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay.  I see.  I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?”  You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri.  Bring it on.”  He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control.  “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles.  Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more.  Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply.  And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon.  But you’re also both stubborn.  And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination.  No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration.  The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not.  You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head.  You can be too predictable sometimes.”  He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire.  You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless.  You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc.  A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle.  He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming.  But he doesn’t.  And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.  

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward.  He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand.  You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck.  Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body.  It doesn’t take long for him to tap out.  You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off.  Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride.  You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad.  In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good .  He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you.  His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere.  He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes.  If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you.  He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable.  You did good today.  Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far.  Keep it up.”  He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts.  He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment.  “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--”  The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his.  His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair.  You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more.  Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment.  A suspended second in time.  But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side.  But it’s warm and gentle.  Gentle.  Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle?  But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations.  His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit.  You’re so wet .”  He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit.  He takes his hand away and you mewl.  “Can I?”  He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts.  You nod, eyes half-lidded.  He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious.  Adoration.  It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt.  You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it.  Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm.  You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat.  He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to.  He’s done this before, he’s had to.  He’s too good.  Too fucking good.  Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth.  “Shit.  Shit.  Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--”  He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym.  It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but  Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue.  But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock.  You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum.  Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them.  Another time, maybe.  

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing .  He could snap you like a twig.  But he won’t.  You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…”  You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders.  You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled.  You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much.  His forehead drops to yours as he pants.  But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to.  It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins.  You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss.  “Oh fuck, ohfuck.”  You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing.  “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper.  Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity.  Let him leave marks.  Let him leave them everywhere.  He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling.  “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.”  His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good.  S’ tight.  Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym.  The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip.  He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes.  Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ”  He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct.  He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point.  “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream.  Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic.  The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath.  “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins.  His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt.  He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole.  Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours.  Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before.  You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri.  Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression.  Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed.  He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex.  But you’re smiling.  Lazy and tired, completely at ease.  “Wanna take a shower?”  When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest.  He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm.  Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra.  Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now.  When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again.  His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss.  But it's slow and sweet. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers.  He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water.  Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now.  The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep.  But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in.  When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel.  “You okay?”  He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired.  I should, uh, probably get going.”  Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line.  Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail.  But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug.  A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest.  His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice.  You bury your face further in as you nod against him.  Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed.  He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him.  Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.  

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you.  The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.  

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket.  It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets.  He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake.  You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb.  A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist.  His eyes are open now and he watches you.  You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious.  “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time.  I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t…  I don’t really hook up .”  Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across.  He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful.  And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along.  You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling.  “I just.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.  I’ve liked you for a long time.  And normally I would have wined and dined you first but...  Well.  Here we are.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.  “Is something funny?”  That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri.  I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.”  A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection.  The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

[ragingbookdragon]

I’m Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 7

Batfamily x Batsis Story

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: Anyone order a part seven? Cause I got a part seven for y'all. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Ever since the meeting that night, she’d gotten more letters from her family than she’d ever received in twenty-one years. Not that she decided to read them. The first line from Dick’s letter was, ”I never wanted you to leave because of me. If only I’d known…”. She couldn’t keep reading, and she wasn’t sure if it were from guilt, sadness, or anger, but there was something there that she didn’t want to face.

It didn’t stop there though. They kept coming even if she tacked a return to sender on it and sent it back. She’d even labeled one and written, ”Stop writing me.” but that didn’t stop them. Wally texted her every other night on top of the letters and she wanted to strangle him through the phone.

She knew though, that if she could keep holding out for three more months, she’d be home free. Wherever home was at this point. Every city she kept thinking about had some type of vigilante and there was nothing that didn’t; eventually she decided on Coast City. Somewhere warm and sunny, and as far from Gotham and Central as possible.

Of course that little voice in the back of her head just kept telling her to talk to them, but she was going to be as stubborn against it as possible—but time was dwindling, and so was her resolve.

***

“Ophelia, have you seen the extra bag of espresso beans? I can’t remember where you put them the other week.” She waited for a response. “Ophelia?” she turned and frowned. “Why did I accept the manager’s position when I can’t even round up my workers?”

She walked out of the storage and wiped her hands on the rag at her waist. “Ophelia?” A giggle sounded at the counter and when she walked out, her eyes went wide at the sight.

Jason was leaning against the counter with that smile he used to use on the models at the galas. He smiled at Ophelia. “Tell me, what do you make better, the cappuccinos or lattes?”

“Well, I make a —”

“She makes a mean ‘get in the back and find my espresso beans’,” she grunted and both of them jumped.

“Melisandre!” Ophelia stuttered, pale cheeks flushing pink. “I thought you were in the back.”

“I was. Think you can go find the coffee beans you put away?” She shot Ophelia a stare that screamed ‘scram’ and the girl nodded, hurrying to the storage room.

“Aww, why’d you run the cutie off, Melisandre?” Jason queried. “I was going to ask her out on—”

“Can I talk to you?” she interrupted, voice barely containing her seething rage. “Outside.”

Jason shrugged and shoved his hands in his jean pockets. “Sure, but be careful, people might get suspicious.”

She grunted and walked outside, listening to him follow and when the door shut, she turned around and hissed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just getting coffee.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me, Jason. We both know that’s a load of bullshit.”

His eyes narrowed and he noted, “You’ve really gotten comfortable using foul language. You know that, (Y/N)?”

She glared at him. “What. Do. You. Want.”

“You won’t answer our letters,” he shrugged. “Didn’t have a lot of options to talk.”

“And showing up at my job is the better option?” she griped.

“It was that or your house, (Y/N). Take your pick but you can’t have both.”

“Well, maybe my silence is supposed to be the answer to those letters. Did you think about that?”

“I did,” he nodded. “But after the third letter being rejected, I decided to go big or go home.”

(Y/N) growled. “Go home.”

Jason smirked. “No.”

“I’m not fucking joking here, Jason. I don’t want you coming here. Ever.”

“Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn,” he retorted then stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You don’t wanna talk willingly, fine. I’ll make you talk to me. And if I have to show up here every day, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

Jason cocked a brow and tightened his grip. “You wanna bet? Because I’m not Dick and I’m sure as hell not Bruce. I don’t have a day job to get to.” He smirked. “I can do this all day.”

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek and thought for a moment then sighed and yanked her arm away. “Fine. Come to my apartment after five. We’ll talk there.”

“Thank—”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she interrupted coldly. “I’m agreeing for one meeting and then you fuck off back to Gotham City and leave me the hell alone for good.” She spun on her heel and started back for the door when his voice reached her, tired and pained.

“Do you really hate all of us? Do you really hate us like you make yourself think you do?”

(Y/N)’s feet felt like lead and she stopped, gazing at the glass door. “I don’t know, Jason.”

“Then let me help.”

“You can find the apartment on your own. I know you’re good at looking for homes.” She slipped in the café door, leaving him standing there shocked and hurt.

***

Sure enough, a minute after five o’clock, her doorbell rang and she called, “It’s open.” The door opened and shut, and she looked up from the little kitchenette, watching the way Jason walked into her apartment, gazing around the empty living room.

“Shit, do you live in a home or a prison cell?”

(Y/N) grunted. “Nice quip. Come up with that by yourself?”

He wandered into the kitchen, leaning back against the counter as she prepared dinner. “What’re you making?”

“Chicken marsala,” she replied. “You’re here to talk. Start talking.”

“Are you going to be a bitch like you were the other night or can I ask about life in Central the last three years?” she shot him a glare, warning him, but he paid it no mind. “You going to school?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I go to Central City Community College. Take classes all week at different times.”

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“For now, general studies, but I’m minoring in political science.”

“Planning on a four year after you graduate?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.” Her hands stalled for a moment. “I don’t have the money for a big school to get a bachelors.” Shaking her head, she chopped up the vegetables. “Figure if I can get a job in the area, I can scrounge up enough to start the process though.”

“Might take years,” Jason noted, and she nodded.

“Yeah, hard work usually does.” (Y/N) glanced at him. “What’s Cassandra like?”

He blinked, evidently not expecting that, though he recovered and smiled. “She’s great honestly. Kicks ass better than anyone I know.”

“Even Batman?”

Jason huffed a laugh. “I’m sure she could wipe the floor with each of us if she decided to not hold back. Her mom’s Lady Shiva and her dad’s David Cain.”

“I don’t know who they are but I’m assuming from the tone that they’re not exactly the best parents in the world.”

“No…they’re not.” He agreed. “David didn’t teach Cass how to speak so she’s been mute all her life.”

“I’ve heard the few interviews she’s given,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s very eloquent when she does.”

“Shakespeare’s influence. And probably Emily Dickinson.” He smiled. “I leave her a lot of books to read so I can be her favorite.”

She snorted. “Yeah, that sounds like you.” Sliding the cast iron skillet into the oven, she sat at the crappy metal dining table, Jason taking the seat on the other side. (Y/N) scratched at the table. “Does Bruce like her?” she questioned lowly, and he nodded.

“Loves her like she’s his own.” He her with cautious eyes. “Just like he loves you.” Jason watched the emotion flash across her face, quick as lighting, a deep sorrow, then she was humming.

“Well, that’s good then.” She cleared her throat and looked at the clock. “How’ve you been? I hear a lot about Outlaws.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah, that’s my band of renegades. Me, Roy Harper, and Koriand’r.”

“Remind me, those were Speedy and Starfire, right?”

He snorted. “Arsenal and Starfire. But yeah, close enough.”

(Y/N) got up and pulled two glasses from the cabinet before going to the refrigerator and getting the lemonade. She poured them both glasses and sat back down. “How’d you manage to wrangle two of the Titans into your posse?”

“Kori willingly tagged along, and Roy won’t leave me alone,” he griped, sipping his lemonade.

“Mmm…and how does Dick feel about you stealing two of his exes?”

Jason choked on his drink, spilling it on the table and down his chin. “That’s not—” he coughed. “That’s not what that is.”

“Uh huh, sure it’s not.”

“It isn’t,” he glowered.

“Riiiiiiight,” she drawled out with a grin, then took a sip and set her glass back down. “Figured you’d get Cass along with you. she seems like she’d be fit for Outlaws.”

He shook his head. “Nah, she’d be better off with Tim and his Young Justice weirdos.”

“She non-lethal?”

“Mhm.”

They dwindled into silence until the timer went off on the oven and she pulled the skillet out and set two plates on the table. “You’re gonna feed me?” he asked as she handed him a fork.

(Y/N) scoffed. “Duh. I’m a bitch, but I’m a bitch with manners.” She smiled sweetly. “But you have to leave afterwards.”

“Mmm…can I crash on your couch?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Figured I’d try anyways.”

They ate in silence, occasionally speaking about their lives the last three years, and when the food was all gone and the lemonade drunk, he sighed and reclined in the chair.

“What?” (Y/N) questioned and he shrugged.

“Dunno…I’d like to do this again soon.” His teal eyes found hers. “It’s been too long since we were together.”

“Tread carefully,” she murmured, looking at the wall and he sighed.

“Sis, talk to me,” he begged. “Even if it’s just to tell me how much you hate me, just talk to me.” She didn’t respond and he sighed again, standing from the table. “Thanks for dinner.”

“…I hate that you all put Gotham and every civilian before our family.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned, gazing at her, though she didn’t tear her eyes from the wall. “I hate that the only time I felt like anyone paid any attention to me was when we were at galas and even then, the attention was just for show. It didn’t matter because all anyone wanted to do was get the hell out of the manor and go on patrol. It didn’t matter because I wasn’t like any of you. I wasn’t a part of the real family.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “I hate that I spent more nights sitting in a dark and silent manor than spending them with my family. I hate that I never had a normal family growing up where we’d go for ice-cream after school and attend school performances. I hate that I got stuck with a bunch of siblings hellbent on giving every piece of themselves to the world and they couldn’t take one night off to have a family night to save their lives. To at least pretend to be normal.”

(Y/N) finally took her eyes from the wall and he felt his heart tighten as the tears slipped down her cheeks and she breathed, “I hate that I was born Bruce Wayne’s biological daughter and I’d give anything and everything I have to be someone else’s daughter and sister.”

Jason’s mouth felt dry, and he didn’t have single thing to say to her and she whispered, “Is that what you wanted to hear, Jason?” she blinked. “Because that’s what I feel every morning I wake up.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she cleared her throat, wiping her cheeks.

“Yeah well, I’m three years passed sorry.” (Y/N) nodded to the front door. “You should leave now.”

Jason nodded but his feet didn’t move. For a moment, he couldn’t move them, then he sucked in a breath and started edging back to the door. When he neared the door, he pulled it open and paused, looking back at her. “(Y/N)?” she didn’t answer but he said it anyway. “I love you. More than you’ve ever known.” He sighed and stepped out, closing it behind him.

(Y/N) buried her face in her hands and sobbed alone at the dinner table.

********************************************************************************

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[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR DAUGHTER

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsuro, iwaizumi hajime

note: female reader ‼️ watch me write about dad!haikyuu all the moments I didn't have with my own sperm donor

MIYA ATSUMU after a long day at work, you were coming home a little more late than usual and as you were opening the door with a sigh, the first thing you listen is “PEASANT, DO NOT TOUCH THE QWEEN CWON”, yeah that’s definitely your daughter and your pretty sure that the “peasant” is your, oh so-called husband. Curiosity took the best of you, now you were behind your daughter’s door listen carefully what atsumu was saying to her, “WHATYA MEANT PEASANT? I WANNA WEAR A CROWN TOO YA KNOW!” your daughter gasps in disbelieve, “daddy, mom is da queen, I’m da princess and yer the peasant! And clearly, mommy isn’t here so don’t touch her cwon!” One thing you know is that you wouldn’t like to see and hear a screaming match between the peasant and the princess in question, thinking that stepping in is the best option, you said “what’s the matter in here?”, next thing you know, your daughter with his big brown eyes that she got from her father, comes running at you, screaming “momm- I mean queen! Yeah, queen! yer just on time for the tea party, this peasant needs to learn some manners” you picked her up, enjoying the way her little arms go around your neck, “yeah? What did dada do this time?” while her face is on your neck, she tells you with a whisper “psss mom, he is not dad now, remember is tea party time” and now with her voice a little more loud she announces to you what he did “he wanted to use ya cwon!  Literally had to scream at him cause of that! Peoples this time are onbelivabol” the las part coming with a sigh, “ugh I now right? Why don’t we teach him some manners then?” After a little thinking, your daughter tells you “uh-huh! Yer right my queen, now I will leave to the bathroom and come back to continue this celebration”. While she leaves, atsumu comes at you with a back hug asking if ya really taking her side? with a low tone, so you replied with “of course I’m taking her side, she’s a child, our child in fact” atsumu looks at you with big eyes and tells you “she is right, people these times are onbelivabol but I still love you my queen”, now facing him, noses and foreheads touching each other you whisper to him “I love you to my peasant” and after a little chuckle you continue “thank you so much for this”.

 BOKUTO KOUTAROU he always had tea parties with his daughter on Mondays after his volleyball practice with the MSBY. He couldn’t go to last week's party because of an away game, and he was devasted and promised her little princess that he would get her something. Now he is coming home from the airport with three Elsa dresses, one for his precious child, the other for his precious wife, and the last one for him, it was very difficult to find one of his size cause of his beefy body, but if he promises his little girl something, he is gonna make it without a doubt. “HEY HEY HEY! GUESS WHOS HOME” he screams while putting his suitcase down “HEY HEY HEY DADDY! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! MOMMY IS MAKING DINNER WHILE I PREPARED OUR SUPER DUPER EXTRA TEA PARTY!!” he picks her up with one arm, making his way to the kitchen to involve you in a hug with the arm he had free “we missed you, kou” snuggling into his neck, and while his arm tightens around you he replies with a soft tone “missed my two girls too, so much” he puts her daughter on the floor again and tells her “missy I have a surprise for our tea party, why don’t you finish the preparations and then mom and I are gonna go there with dinner? Sounds good?” whit a little nod she answers with “yeah dada, that sounds good”. After hearing her enter her room you ask your husband what did he get for her, and when he tells you he didn’t get one, not two but three princess dresses you’re over the moon, the fuck you’re going to do with three dresses? you don’t question him and keep cooking as if you wouldn’t have to put on a frozen show in less than half an hour. “BABY IM COMING TO YOUR ROOM WITH HOT FOOD, BE CAREFULL” the little girl sees you in all your glory, with the most beautiful Elsa dress she ever saw “MAMA, WHY YOU DIDNT TOLD ME ELSA LET YOU BORROW HER DRESS? YOU'RE SO PWETTY!” laughing a little at her comment you decide that it was the best to tell her is a secret between adults, excited to see her reaction when her dad comes to her room with the same dress on him and a little one for her. “IM COMING IN!” your husband yells and your daughter’s eyes are the bigger you ever saw them, running like the flash to steal the dress that was in his dad's hands. “Daddy, that dress is so pwetty on you, and there's one for me! We are all matching! And now we are gonna have our four curse, ugh no, cruse, ump corse, mommy how do I say it?”, “course darling, four meal course. Now dada, why don’t you come to eat with us this fancy dinner?” after nodding and making his way to the both of you, bokuto thinks he is gonna ask for another kid one of these days.

[thewidowsghost]

Of Course You Did - Part One  Natasha Romanoff x Johnson! Reader

My good friend, I hope, @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ asked for a 7 and 10 with Nat. I don’t know if this is what they were wanting, but I just let Jesus take the wheel - Please say somebody gets that reference. Anyway, this is Part One, Probably of Two, possibly three. But yeah, I hope @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ is happy with this uh, masterpiece(?) I created. 

3rd Person POV

"I screwed up Skye!" (Y/n) complains pacing in front of her sister, running a hand through her hair.

Skye had an amused look on her face.

"Stupid rock that gave us stupid weird powers," (Y/n) grumbles.

"Let me guess," Skye says, and (Y/n) stops, looking at her sister. "You accidentally teleported out again?"

(Y/n) groans and runs her hand through her hair again.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with the Avengers?" Skye asks after a moment.

"Huh, yeah, You're right," (Y/n) nods to her twin and with a blink, (Y/n) is standing back inside the Quinjet.

Avoiding the Black Widow's gaze, (Y/n) plops down beside Steve.

Once the Quinjet lands, (Y/n) begins teleporting around, taking out some of the HYDRA soldiers.

After a minute, (Y/n) teleports next to Clint as he begins shooting targets and (Y/n) draws her pistols, shooting some of the other targets.

Natasha drives the truck over a hill and Clint, (Y/n), and Natasha dive off the truck.

(Y/n) sticks close to the redheaded assassin as the two take out HYDRA agents. Once making sure that Natasha would be okay on her own, (Y/n) teleports over and works with Clint for a while.

Clint shoots an exploding arrow at one of the bunkers and there's a flash and something catches the arrow.

"Clint! Look out!" (Y/n) shoves the Avenger out of the way from a laser gun, which grazes her side.

(Y/n) lets out a grunt as Clint drags her out of harm's way. Clint goes to help her out but he catches another flash and draws his bow.

Natasha catches sight of the young woman bleeding onto the snow.

Natasha darts over and presses against the wound in her side. Clint had followed after the flash, "Will someone please take care of that bunker?" Natasha looks up as the Hulk runs through the bunker. "Thank you," she says softly.

(Y/n) lets out a groan as the redhead puts more pressure on the wound.

"Sorry," Natasha murmurs.

After a few minutes, Thor flies over.

"I'll take (Y/n) back to the Quinjet," he says in his deep voice.

Natasha looks a little uncertain but then nods.

Once the group returns to the Avengers' Tower, (Y/n) is rushed to Med Bay where Doctor Cho uses a machine to begin to heal the wound in (Y/n)'s side.

Natasha had shown up, Clint at her side.

"You sure she's gonna be okay?" Natasha asks.

(Y/n) gazes up at the redhead standing over her, and raises an eyebrow.

"There's no possibility of deterioration," Cho tells her. "The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous. Her cells don't know they're bonding with simulacra."

"She is creating tissue," Banner clarifies.

"If you brought her to my lab, the Regeneration Cradle could do this in twenty minutes."

"Oh, she's flat-lining. Call it Time?" Tony says, coming in with some smoothies.

"Haha," (Y/n) smiles, rolling her eyes at the billionaire. "No, I'm gonna live forever. I'll be made of plastic."

"No (Y/n)," Cho says, smiling at the woman as (Y/n) takes a smoothie from Tony. "You'll be made of you. Your own girlfriend won't know the difference."

"I don't have a girlfriend," (Y/n) says, glancing up at Natasha.

"That I can't fix," Cho says and (Y/n) grins.

"I'd hoped I'd be able to fix that one myself," (Y/n) admits.

"Helen, I expect to see you at the party on Saturday," Tony says and (Y/n) raises an eyebrow.

"Unlike you, I don't have a lot of time for parties," Cho tells Tony. "Will Thor be there?" she asks and (Y/n) giggles.

A few minutes later, Cho let's (Y/n) up from the table. "Wow, that was fast," (Y/n) comments. "Thanks, Dr. Cho," (Y/n) smiles at the doctor.

"No problem (Y/n)," Cho returns the smile.

(Y/n) leaves the room, pulling out her phone. "Skye? How've you been since the eight hours since I've seen you?"

Skye chuckles, "Believe me, I've been bored."

"Invite the team - Fitz, Simmons, Bobbi, Hunter, Mack, Coulson, and May - Stark's throwing a party," (Y/n) says.

"Oh, alright!" Skye says excitedly.

"It's Saturday," (Y/n) tells her twin.

"You staying at the Tower?" Skye asks.

"Yep. I'll see you soon then," (Y/n) smiles. "Love you."

"Love you too," Skye returns.

(Y/n) looks up from the floor, meeting Natasha's silvery-green.

"That was my twin sister," (Y/n) clarifies.

"Well, if she's as sweet as you, we should meet," Natasha says with a warm smile.

(Y/n) smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

"See, that's what I was talking about," Natasha says. "See you around."

(Y/n) walks outside to the Quinjet dock to greet her friends.

"It's been a while since I've seen the Avengers," Coulson says as (Y/n) leads the group inside.

"Yeah, last they knew, you were, you know -" May pauses, and (Y/n)'s eyes shine.

Steve steps forward, then pauses, looking at Coulson. "It's nice to see you again," Steve addresses Coulson, holding out his hand for Coulson to shake.

"You too, Captain Rogers," Coulson returns.

Steve nods respectfully to Coulson, then he turns to (Y/n). "Who are your friends?" he asks.

"This is Melinda May," (Y/n) nods to May. "Mack," she gestures to Mack. "Bobbi and Hunter," the two wave. "Coulson, whom you know. Fitz and Simmons," the two scientists were wide-eyed as they look up at the legendary Avenger. "And my twin sister, Skye." Skye smiles warmly.

"Steve, you're making them uncomfortable," (Y/n) laughs, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder and nudging him away.

"Fine," Steve grumbles, walking away to find Sam.

"Go have fun," (Y/n) tells her friends. "Y'all never get a break."

The group splits up, Fitz and Simmons, Coulson and May, then Mack, Hunter, and Bobbi, all going in different directions.

Skye follows (Y/n)'s line of vision as her (H/c) haired sister gazes at the attractive redhead at the bar.

"Hmm, I guess I know who you like," Skye teases.

"Stop!" (Y/n) nudges her sister with an elbow.

"(Y/n), who's this attractive young woman?" comes a familiar voice.

"Back off Stark!" (Y/n) looks up at her friend. "This is my little sister Skye."

"Well," Tony says, taking a step back. "It's nice to meet you."

"And actually, we're twins, so," Skye falters at (Y/n)'s glare.

"I'm twenty minutes older than you," (Y/n) frowns.

"So, still padding after Romanoff, (Y/n)?" Tony asks, changing the subject.

(Y/n) groans, slumping down onto the couch behind her.

"Why don't you go get me a drink?" Skye asks with a nudge and (Y/n) stands back up.

"Okay, just don't let Stark hit on you anymore," (Y/n) says, snapping her (E/c) eyes to glare at Tony.

"Okay. Okay," Tony says. "Anyway, I've got Pepper."

"Now, go!" Skye pushes (Y/n) forward and she smooths out the front of her black suit.

(Y/n) makes her way through the groups of people before she's stopped by Bobbi.

"You going for Romanoff now?" Bobbi asks and Hunter nods.

"You'd better," Hunter says, his accent evident.

"Does everyone know by now?" (Y/n) laughs.

"Yes!" Bobbi, Hunter, and Mack say in unison.

(Y/n) looks over at Natasha, who was still making drinks at the bar.

"Go!" Mack says, his voice deep.

"Okay Mack," (Y/n) shakes her head and continues on her way towards Natasha.

May stops (Y/n) now, Coulson at her side.

"Romanoff?" she asks.

"Did you all just like, team up to get me to go talk to Natasha ?" (Y/n) asks in disbelief.

"We did have a meeting," Coulson says and (Y/n) shakes her head.

(Y/n) walks up to Natasha at the bar.

"How'd a sweet girl like you end up in a place like this?" (Y/n) asks, leaning up against the bar.

"A girl did me wrong," she shrugs.

"Seems you've got a lousy taste in women," (Y/n) says with a smile.

"She's not so bad," Natasha says. "She's an interesting person. Sweet. Cute. Surprisingly gentle for this line of work."

"Sounds amazing," (Y/n) returns.

"She's also a huge dork," Natasha says and (Y/n) looks down at the bar top in front of her. "But chicks dig that. So what do you think?" Natasha looks deep into (Y/n)'s eyes. "Should I fight this, or run with it?"

"Run with it, right?" (Y/n) asks. "What did she do that was so wrong to you?" she then asks.

"Not a damn thing," Natasha murmurs, smiling up at (Y/n). "But never say never."

Steve walks up at the end of the bar, watching (Y/n) as she smiles down at the bar.

"It's nice," Steve says and (Y/n) looks over at the super-soldier.

"W-what is?" (Y/n) asks.

"You and Romanoff," Steve says.

"Uh, that wasn't -"

"It's okay," Steve chuckles. "Nobody's breaking any bylaws. It's just she's not the most open person in the world. But with you, she seems very relaxed."

"No, Natasha," she looks down. "She's just . . . She likes to flirt."

"I've seen her flirt, up close," Steve says taking a beer from behind the bar. "This ain't that. Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't. You both deserve a win." Steve walks away and (Y/n)'s head snaps to Steve.

"Wait? What do you mean 'up close'?" (Y/n) calls.

Mack, Bobbi, Coulson, May, Hunter, Fitz, and Simmons leave the party; Skye and (Y/n) are sitting on the couches with the others. (Y/n) and Natasha were chatting and Skye was smirking as she leaned into (Y/n)'s shoulder.

Thor laughs as Clint says, "But it's a trick."

"No, no, it's much more than that," Thor argues.

"Ah, whoever be worthy shall haveth the power," Clint says in a deep voice. "Whatever, man! It's a trick!"

"Please," Thor chuckles, "be my guest."

Everyone goes silent with interest.

"Come on."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Tony says.

Clint stands up and (Y/n) watches the archer.

"Oh, this is gonna be beautiful," Rhodey says and (Y/n) nods.

"Should I have pushed him out of the way?" (Y/n) wonders aloud, a joking tone to her question, and Tony's eyes flash with amusement.

"Clint, you've had a tough week," Tony says. "We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up."

"Is this what the Avengers are like?" Skye asks and (Y/n) nods. "I need to join."

"Well Tremors, I'll put in a good word," (Y/n) murmurs and she and Skye turn their attention turns back to Clint.

Everyone laughs at Tony's joke. "You know I've seen this before, right?" Clint asks.

Clint tries to lift Thor's Hammer but fails.

"I still don't know how you do it!" Clint says in exasperation.

"Smell the silent judgment?" Tony asks and (Y/n) laughs.

"Please, Stark, by all means," Clint says, gesturing to Tony.

Tony clears his throat.

"Oh no!" Maria Hill says.

"Uh-oh!" Rhodey says.

"Never one to shrink from an honest challenge," Tony says.

"Get ready for this," (Y/n) murmurs in her twin's ear. "This'll be great."

"Get after it," Clint says with a smirk.

"It's physics," Tony says, and (Y/n) hides a grin.

"Physics," Bruce says.

"Right, so if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?" Tony asks.

"Yes, of course," Thor says calmly.

"I will be re-instituting prima nocta," Tony tells them.

"God, no," (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

Tony grunts as he tries to lift the hammer.

"I'll be right back," Tony grumbles as he walks away. He comes back a moment later with one of his iron gauntlet gloves.

After this, he recruits Rhodey to help but still, the hammer doesn't move.

Then Bruce tries and when he fails, he roars like the Hulk, making Maria and Skye look at him, a strange expression on his face.

Then Steve stands up.

"Go ahead, Steve," Tony says. "No pressure."

"I've got my money on the Captain," (Y/n) murmurs in Skye's ear and she nods.

Steve rolls up his sleeves and Clint says, "Come on, Cap."

Steve tries to lift the hammer and it makes a creak on top of the table but he doesn't lift it.

"(Y/n), you want a try?" Thor asks and (Y/n) looks around before standing up.

(Y/n) places a hand on the hammer and lifts it off the table. She yelps as the handle crackles with lightning and drops it back onto the table. Studying her hands, (Y/n) didn't even see a scar, and disregards it, sitting back down beside her sister.

"Huh," was all anyone said as they were all looking at her.

"And Widow?" Bruce asks.

"Oh, no, no. That's not a question I need answered," Natasha says, still nursing her beer and still eyeing (Y/n).

"All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't be King, but it's rigged," Tony says, and (Y/n)'s eyes flash with amusement.

"You bet your ass," Clint agrees.

"Steve, he said a bad language word," Maria says and Skye lets out a snort of laughter.

"Did you tell everyone about that?" Steve asks Tony.

"The handle's imprinted, right?" Tony asks Thor. "Like a security code, (Y/n) stole your handprint."

By this point, (Y/n) was looking slightly offended. "Yeah, because I know how to steal someone's whole handprint," (Y/n) says sarcastically and everyone laughs.

"Yes. It's a very, very interesting theory," Thor says, standing up. "I have a simpler one." Thor lifts his hammer. "You're not worthy."

Everyone groans in exasperation but then watch in interest as Thor turns to (Y/n).

The God of Thunder goes to say something but there is a weird mechanical noise and everyone looks around.

"Worthy," comes a hiss, and (Y/n) stands up, looking around.

There is a metal figure standing by the entrance of the hall and everyone looks in that direction.

"No," the figure rasps again. "How could you be worthy? You're all killers."

"Stark," Steve says.

"Jarvis," Tony prompts.

"I'm sorry, I was asleep," the robot rasps. "Or I was a-dream. There was a terrible noise. And I was tangled in . . . In . . . Strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

"You killed someone?" (Y/n) asks.

"Wouldn't have been my first call," the figure says. Everyone else had stood up by this point and (Y/n) was standing protectively in front of Skye. "But, down in the real world, we're faced with choices."

"Who sent you?" Thor asks, his voice low.

"I see a suit of armor around the work," is what comes from the figure, in Tony's voice.

"Ultron," (Y/n) says softly. She'd heard Tony and Bruce talking about a peace-keeping program they wanted to write. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

"In the flesh," Ultron says. "Or, no, not yet." Natasha and (Y/n) exchange a glance. "Not this chrysalis. But I'm ready." Maria had stood up this time, cocking her gun and Thor had readied his hammer. "I'm on mission."

"What mission?" Natasha asks.

"Peace in our time," comes from Ultron.

Suddenly, Tony's Iron Legion bots break smash through the walls and attack the team.

Skye and (Y/n) begin attacking drones that some towards them, Skye using her powers to Quake the droids and (Y/n) makes a sword appear in her hand and she begins cutting through some of the droids.

One of the droids knocks (Y/n) back and she crashes through a bookcase. She sees Steve's Shield and picks it up.

"Steve!" she yells, meeting the blonde's eyes she throws the shield and Steve catches it.

One of the droids gets a blow on Natasha and knocks her back over the bar. (Y/n) teleports in front of the droid and cuts through it, but more advance on her and Natasha pulls her down.

"Sorry," (Y/n) murmurs as she lands heavily on the redheaded assassin.

"Be careful," Natasha says, placing a kiss on (Y/n)'s cheek. She leaps to her feet and grabs (Y/n)'s hand, dragging her up the stairs.

"What about Skye?" (Y/n) asks. "I'll be back." She teleports over to Skye and helps her sister fight the hoard of droids until Ultron is the only one left.

"That was dramatic," Ultron leers. "I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve?" Ultron hisses and Skye takes her sister's hand and (Y/n) squeezes it gently. "With these?" he lifts one of the Iron Legionnaires by the head. "These puppets," he crushes the head in one hand. There's only one path to peace. The Avengers' extinction," this time, Skye grips her sister's hand tighter.

Thor throws his hammer and smashes through Ultron.

"I had strings, but now I'm free," Ultron's voice says, the Iron Legionnaire glowing blue before the light fades.

The next few days were interesting, to say the least, tracking down Ultron and now the Avengers - (Y/n) had forced Skye to go home to SHIELD HQ - were standing in a salvage yard off the African coast.

(Y/n) falters once she catches sight of the two teenagers who were standing behind Ultron.

"Stark is . . . He's a sickness!" Ultron roars.

"Ah, Junior," Tony says and Ultron turns around. "You're gonna break your old man's heart." Ultron eyes (Y/n), Cap, Thor, and Tony, but (Y/n) was watching the teenagers closely.

"If I have to," Ultron returns.

"Nobody has to break anything," (Y/n) says, still watching the two kids.

"Clearly you've never made an omelet," Ultron replies, looking at the female Avenger.

"He beat me by one second," Tony says with a smirk.

"Ah, yes," comes the male teenager's voice, Pietro. "He's funny. Mr. Stark. It's what? Comfortable? Like old times?" Pietro asks, looking down at all the missiles below them.

"This was never my life," Tony says, looking down at them as well.

"You two can still walk away from this," (Y/n) says, meeting each of the twins' gazes.

"Oh, we will," Wanda - the female twin - says, staring back into (Y/n)'s (E/c) gaze.

"I know you've suffered," Steve says, stepping forward.

Ultron scoffs, "Captain America. God's righteous man." (Y/n) raises an eyebrow. "Pretending you could live without a war."

"War and violence doesn't solve everything," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing at the android.

"I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but . . ." Ultron fixes his eerie red gaze on (Y/n) again.

"If you believe in peace, then let us then let us keep it," Thor says.

"I think you're confusing peace with quiet," Ultron answers.

"Uh-huh. What's the Vibranium for?" Tony asks.

"I'm glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan," Ultron shoots lasers at Tony, blasting him back against a wall.

(Y/n) strides towards Wanda and Pietro and the Pietro rushes toward her but (Y/n) teleports behind Wanda.

"Come on, kid," (Y/n) says as Wanda begins to attack her. "You can stop this," she says.

"You're right," Wanda says, her Sokovian accent thick, "I can." She waves her hand and throws (Y/n) back against one of the walls. (Y/n)'s ears ring as she staggers to her feet.

(Y/n) spits out blood as she moves into a fighting stance again.

Wanda leaves, and (Y/n) looks around, trying to fix her still spinning head.

Then she looks up and sees Wanda behind Natasha and the assassin's eyes turn red. (Y/n) teleports up, but by the time she gets there, Wanda is gone.

"Nat?" (Y/n) puts a hand on Natasha's knee but the redhead doesn't react. "Come on, Nat," she shakes her leg lightly.

(Y/n), despite still feeling dizzy, lifts the redhead and carries her out of harm's way.

(Y/n) stands over the redhead and fights off the droids off.

The remainder of the droids get fought off by Clint and (Y/n), who were the only ones left in the salvage yard who hadn't been mind-controlled by Wanda.

Natasha, who was still, her eyes red instead of their normal, beautiful green. (Y/n) shakes the thought from her head and picks up Natasha.

"Need help?" Clint asks.

"I've got 'er," (Y/n) says and Clint nods.

"I'll go get the others," Clint says.

"Meet you at the Quinjet?" (Y/n) asks.

"Yeah, I'll see you two in a moment.”

(Y/n) had never teleported with two people, and didn't want to risk hurting Natasha, so she just carries her to the Quinjet.

(Y/n) lies the redhead down on the chairs inside the Quinjet. (Y/n) had packed a spare hoodie, so she rolls it up, and it slides the pillow under the former assassin's head like a pillow.

(Y/n) sees Clint struggling to support both Thor and Steve and (Y/n) runs out to help. (Y/n) throws Steve's arm over her shoulder and helps the super-soldier inside.

"Who knew we super-soldiers were heavy?" (Y/n) says to herself as she lowers Steve onto another set of chairs.

"Mr. God of Thunder isn't light either," Clint adds.

"Are we just waiting for Tony to get Bruce?" (Y/n) asks and Clint nods.

About half an hour later, Tony returns with Bruce, who was unconscious, and Clint takes the stick.

(Y/n) had fallen asleep on her side, her head resting on her left arm, lying below Natasha on the floor.

Natasha had blinked open her eyes as the Quinjet had landed. She looks down at (Y/n), who was lying on the cold, hard floor of the Quinjet, shivering a little.

Clint walks over and wakes (Y/n) up. "Hm?" she sits up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "What's goin' on?"

"We're here," Clint says, and (Y/n) stands up.

Natasha goes to stand up, but stumbles and (Y/n) catches her.

"Slow down there, Romanoff," (Y/n) throws an arm around Natasha's waist to keep her upright.

Clint leads the Avengers up towards a farmhouse, and (Y/n) was right behind the archer as she helps the redheaded assassin up the stairs.

"What is this place?" Thor asks.

"Safehouse," Tony guesses.

"Let's hope," Clint answers as (Y/n) helps Natasha through the door. "Honey, I'm home," Clint says as they enter a living room and (Y/n) tentatively releases her hold from around the redhead, leaving a hand on her shoulder in case she falls.

A brunette, heavily pregnant, walks into the room and (Y/n) smiles at the woman.

"Hi," the woman breathes as Clint steps towards her.

"Company," Clint says. "Sorry, didn't call ahead."

"Hey," the brunette leans forward, kissing Clint.

"Aww!" (Y/n) says softly.

"This is an agent of some kind," Tony says and (Y/n) glances at him.

"Gentlemen, (Y/n), this is Laura," Clint introduces the woman and (Y/n) waves.

"I know all of your names," Laura says with a chuckle.

"Oh, I like her," (Y/n) says and Laura smiles at her.

There's a sound of footsteps and Clint smiles, "Ooh. Incoming."

"Dad!" a little girl cries and Clint scoops her up in his arms.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Clint says. "Hey, buddy," Clint pulls his son into a hug.

"Aww!" (Y/n) says again and Natasha looks at her weirdly. "What, I like kids. I raised my little sister since we were eight."

"These are smaller agents," Tony says and Y/n) laughs.

"Nice Tony," (Y/n) says.

"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" the little girl asks.

(Y/n) lifts her hand off Natasha's shoulder and the redhead walks towards the little girl.

"Why don't you hug her and find out?" Natasha asks scooping the girl up in her arms.

"Sorry for barging in on you," Steve says.

"Yeah, we would have called ahead, but we were busy having no idea you existed," Tony says.

"Dude, we need to get you some help," (Y/n) says, nudging Tony with a laugh. She steps forward. "It's nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n) With no Last Name."

Laura's eyes flash with amusement. "Oh, I like this one."

(Y/n) laughs.

"I missed you," Natasha says, coming to say hello to Laura and (Y/n) takes a step to the side. "How's little Natasha, huh?"

"She's . . ." Laura falters. "Nathaniel."

Natasha's smile falls off her face and she leans down, muttering, "Traitor."

Thor walks out the door and one of (Y/n)'s eyebrows raises.

"Excuse me," (Y/n) says, smiling, before following Steve outside as he follows Thor.

"Thor?" Steve asks.

"I say something in that dream," Thor says. "I need answers. I wouldn't find them here."

Thor twirls his hammer and flies up into the air.

(Y/n) and Steve go to walk inside but Steve stops.

"I'll be back in soon," Steve says, and (Y/n) nods, retreating inside.

"Hi!" comes the little girl's voice and (Y/n) smiles down at her.

"Hey, I'm (Y/n)," (Y/n) says.

"I'm Lila!" Lila chimes in.

"I like you," (Y/n) smiles. "I'm (Y/n). Boop!" (Y/n) boops Lila's nose and the little girl giggles. "How 'bout we go outside and leave the Avengers to their business, yeah?"

Lila nods and leads (Y/n) outside. "I can show you around!"

(Y/n) smiles at the girl's enthusiasm and follows the young girl around the farm until they get back up on the porch.

"Thank you for hanging out with Lila," Laura says as the little girl runs inside.

"No problem," (Y/n) says with a smile. "As I said, I love kids."

"I wanted to let you know that because some of you have to double up, you and Natasha will be sharing a room," Laura tells her, and (Y/n) nods slowly.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, still nodding a little.

An amused expression had crossed Laura's face and her smile had widened.

"Um, I'm going to grab my stuff," (Y/n) says. She smiles before jogging towards the Quinjet. (Y/n) grabs her and Natasha's duffel bags and carries them inside.

Lila runs up to (Y/n).

"Hey, kiddo," (Y/n) greets. "Can you take me up to your Auntie Nat's room?" Lila nods and starts up the stairs, (Y/n) close behind. "Thanks," (Y/n) says, as Lila stops in front of one of the rooms.

(Y/n) knocks lightly on the door before stepping into the room.

"Hi, Nat," (Y/n) says softly.

"Hey," Natasha says halfheartedly, her eyes glazed.

(Y/n) sets the two duffel bags on one of the chairs, then she sits down on the edge of the bed by the redhead's feet.

"Hey, are you alright?" (Y/n)'s voice was gentle and the former assassin's eyes seem to return to their normal - non-glazed - green.

Tears seem to well up in the green eyes and (Y/n) reaches forward, gently squeezing the redhead's hands.

Natasha moves over and (Y/n) wraps her arms around her.

"Hey," (Y/n) says softly. "You're alright Tasha."

"Thank you," Natasha murmurs into (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"For what?" (Y/n) asks, her (E/c) eyes soft.

Natasha pulls back, looking into (Y/n)'s eyes.

A watery smile smiles across Natasha's face.

"You're so clueless," Natasha says, drying her tears on her sleeve.

(Y/n)'s head that - just seconds before had been full of unasked questions - is now buzzing as Natasha leans forward. She feels Natasha's breath on her cheek. Natasha watches her eyelids flutter, then close as their lips meet.

A moment later, Natasha pulls away and finds (Y/n)'s cheeks a bright red.

(Y/n) blinks open her (E/c) eyes and she smiles stupidly.

Steve sticks his head in the door, seemingly not noticing (Y/n)'s bright red cheeks. "There's someone here," Steve says and (Y/n) tilts her head.

"Who?" (Y/n) asks, an eyebrow raised.

"Just come downstairs."

Steve leaves the room and (Y/n) follows, but she also catches the look of disappointment that had spread across Natasha's face. Natasha gets up and quickly follows, taking (Y/n)'s hand.

A blush rises on (Y/n)'s cheeks and Natasha laughs.

"You are so cute," Natasha says softly. Then her eyes widen. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I thought it was sweet," (Y/n) says and it's Natasha's turn to blush.

Natasha has to release (Y/n)'s hand as they walk down the stairs and into the kitchen.

(Y/n) lets out a noise as someone throws themselves into her arms.

"Skye?" (Y/n) asks, wrapping her arms tighter around her sister. Then she draws back staring at her sister. "I told you to go home," she scolds lightly.

"Fury wanted someone else with powers," Skye says and (Y/n) raises an eyebrow.

"Fury's here?" Natasha asks, and Skye nods.

"He's stalking Stark in the barn," Skye says and (Y/n) laughs.

"(Y/n)," Laura says, walking up and Skye smiles at the woman. "Whose your guest?"

"Oh, this is my twin sister, Skye," (Y/n) says, and Skye waves.

"The one you practically raised?" Laura asks and (Y/n) nods while Skye shakes her head no.

"Really?" (Y/n) asks, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "Who came to your rescue when SHIELD sent a team after you because you were doing hacker things."

"You were part of that team," Skye says.

"Yeah, but then, I taught you stuff," (Y/n) reasons.

"Fine," Skye grumbles.

"Yes! I win again!" (Y/n) says, nudging her sister. "Seven hundred, twenty-one to zero."

"Anyway," Natasha says with a laugh. She holds out her hand, "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself at the party. I'm Natasha."

"Hi," Skye shakes Natasha's hand. "(Y/n)'s told me a lot about you."

"She has, has she?" Natasha smirks and (Y/n) shifts uncomfortably.

Word Count: 4830 words

This was going to be one part, but we was reachin' like 10k words, and I wasn't about that, so it's probably going to be two parts.

Anyway, I love you guys!

Love,

          Kaitlynn ❤️❤️

Taglist: 

@marsromanoff

@ecruzsalaz

@procrastinatingsapphictrash​

[malewifegradyruewen]

An Untitled Original Work, Part 8

y'all are either gonna love me or hate me-

previous | next | masterpost

trigger warnings: none that i can think of, ask to tag

word count: 2755

tagging: @fire-sapphics @artemiassamos @honorablescythecurie @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @tommyinnitt @enbies-and-felonies @sofia-not-sophie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!

Gina was pissed, to say the least. Stupid, oblivious Leo, and stupid, oblivious her. What a pair.

Leo had always been oblivious, so she really couldn’t blame him, but it was her own mistakes that really set her off. Sure, they were her mistakes, but that didn’t make them sting less.

Put it out of your mind. That’s over now, and now we can… try again.

After they’d left, she and Sammie had decided that they should go to Gina’s, just to hang out. The only reason Gina had agreed was because she knew her dad had taken her youngest siblings to their grandma’s, and the oldest two of her younger siblings wouldn’t bother her. They might have even gone over to a friend’s house, leaving the Weathers residence vacant.

“So, what did you think? Salt & Pepper, it was good, right?” she asked, hoping to break the tension that had formed.

“Yeah, it was pretty good! Leo was right, the mocha was pretty good.”

She knew Sammie didn’t mean any harm, but hearing Leo’s name brought a bitter taste to Gina’s mouth. She did her best to swallow it before asking, “Have you ever dyed your hair?”

So she was taking the easy way out of discussing what had happened at the café. There was nothing wrong with that, especially because Gina wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but they didn’t need to talk about it. Right now, she needed a distraction, something guaranteed.

“Uh, no, I haven’t,” Sammie admitted. “I never had the chance, I guess.”

“How would you feel about maybe, I dunno, doing that at my house?” Gina asked. “I’ve got a couple colours. I accidentally bought some for light hair, too, so that’s been sitting in my closet for a while now.”

Sammie hesitated. Gina could tell she wanted to, but still. It wasn’t something most people did on the fly. Changing your colour was one thing, but doing it for the first time was usually a bigger decision.

“You don’t have to,” Gina added. “Or we can do just like, a little bit. Streaks or ends or-” She gasped. “Under layer would look so good!”

With that, Sammie seemed won over. “Why not? What colours do you have?”

“For light hair, I think pink and blue. And then I have some that’s for darker hair, purple and green and red. And brown. I dunno. Probably pink or blue for you.”

“Pink, for sure.”

“Good, because we’re here,” Gina said as they pulled into her driveway. She quickly parked outside and hopped out of the car. “Do you want a soda or something? We’ve got some in the garage.”

She led Sammie into the garage and to an old, white fridge. Sammie pulled it open and Gina grabbed a Sprite. “Go on, you can take something.”

Sammie grabbed a Sprite of her own before closing the fridge. Gina then pulled open the door to the back hall, a tiny doorway that led into the kitchen. “Shoes on or off?” Sammie asked.

“Either one,” Gina said. “I keep mine in my room.” She then bolted upstairs. “My room’s up here.”

As Gina walked down the narrow hallway, she suddenly felt very… inadequate. Everything seemed too small, too dirty, too embarrassing. It never felt like this when Mally or Andre were over, because they’d been coming over since they were little. But somehow, Sammie seeing it for the first time as a high schooler, the most judgemental group of people on the planet, terrified Gina. What if this was it? Maybe Sammie would stop hanging out with her. Plus, there was the added terror of having your crush see your bedroom. That usually didn’t happen so early, did it?

Gina ran out of time to go over worst-case scenarios as she opened her bedroom door. Luckily, she’d cleaned up a bit before going to pick Sammie up, so it wasn’t too bad. Her bed was made, there were no dirty underwear on the floor, and the dresser was organised.

“Aww, your room is so cute!” Sammie said as Gina stepped out of the way to let her in. “The nail polish is so fun!” She pointed to the row that Gina had lined up in colour order. There were only maybe a dozen bottles, but they took up a decent amount of room on her dresser.

“Thanks,” Gina said as she internally sighed a sigh of relief. “Maybe we can paint our nails later, if we have time.”

“That would be fun,” Sammie agreed.

Gina could tell that there was something Sammie wasn’t saying, but she decided not to push. “Okay, here’s the hair dye,” she said as she opened her closet and grabbed a small plastic basket off the floor. “Here’s the pink.”

She tossed the box to Sammie, who caught it with ease. “Should we do this in the bathroom, and do you have some old towels?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” She reached into her closet again and grabbed two stained towels. “I know they look gross but they’re clean, I promise. I just washed them.”

“That’s okay,” Sammie said as she took one of the towels from Gina. “Here, you put the basket away. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right next door, first door on the right,” Gina said, sliding the basket back and closing her small closet. She followed Sammie into the bathroom.

“Okay, what’s first?” asked Sammie as she opened the box.

“You should wash your hair. I can do that in the sink, and then I have some clips in the sink so we only dye the bottom layer.”

“Alright, I’m doing this!” Sammie said as she placed one of the towels around her neck like a cape.

“We’re doing this! Here, I’m gonna go grab a chair so you can sit by the sink,” Gina said. She ran back downstairs to the garage, grabbed an old folding chair, and brought it back up. When she got back to the bathroom, she found that Sammie had found a handful of hair clips in a drawer and had pulled the gloves out of the box.

“Here.” She set the chair down facing the wall. “Sit.”

Sammie sat as Gina grabbed her shampoo and conditioner from the shower. She put them on the counter next to the sink and turned the water on. “Sit back so your hair’s actually in the sink.”

Gina could see Sammie hesitate. “Hey, it’s not too late to chicken out. I still haven’t been able to do Mally’s. You’re fine if you don’t wanna do it.”

“No, I wanna,” Sammie said. “I’m just nervous.”

“Don’t be! This stuff is only semi-permanent anyways, so it won’t last for more than six weeks, if you wash it the same amount as usual.”

Gina could see Sammie take a deep breath before sitting back. “Let’s go!”

She placed Sammie’s hair in the sink and started washing it. “So, how do you like it here?”

“I like it. It’s different from where I lived before, but I like the people here. I think I found a good group, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” Gina said as she started adding shampoo. “Good crew. I’ve known Mally and Andre since elementary school. I think we’re all pretty likeable.”

“Yeah, and the other people in my classes are nice, too,” Sammie said. “Not that I’d hang out with most of them, but they’re nice.”

“Mhm,” Gina said absentmindedly as she rinsed the shampoo and started combing conditioner through Sammie’s hair.

“I can’t wait to just get to know more people, you know? Like I’ve been talking with some of my other classmates and I forgot how fun it is to talk to different people and get their perspectives on things.”

“Yeah,” Gina agreed. “Sit up, your hair is clean. I gotta dry it a bit.”

Sammie leaned forward in the chair as Gina pulled the towel that was sitting on her shoulders up to rub her hair dry. “I’m overall liking it here. I was nervous, but everyone has been really nice and no one’s really bullied me or anything.”

“Yeah, most of the people at our school are nice. It’s actually not too bad. I’ve heard South is way more toxic than our school.” Gina grabbed the clips and then pulled a comb out of one of the drawers. “Hold these,” she said, handing the clips to Sammie. She then ran the comb around Sammie’s head, grabbing the top section with one hand and a clip with the other. “Turn around, does that look good?”

“Yeah, that’s not too much,” Sammie said as she looked in the mirror.

“Okay, I’m gonna straighten out the part there then. Uh, you can continue what you were saying,” Gina said as Sammie turned back to face the wall.

“It’s just a decent environment, better than my old school. Even the worst people here are generally better than at my old school.”

“Yeah,” Gina said. “Okay, hair dye next. You ready?”

“Do it.”

“Okay,” Gina said as she slid on the gloves and opened the package of dye. She mixed it up and started scooping small handfuls onto Sammie’s hair. “Yeah, I’d say the worst person at our school is probably Logan, and she’s pretty bad, so the people at your school must have been terrible.”

“She’s not that bad,” Sammie said. “She’s in my English, and she seems pretty nice.”

“Trust me, she’s not.” Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair. “She’s rude and a bully.”

“Huh, I haven’t seen that,” Sammie admitted. “She seems pretty… normal, I guess.”

“Don’t hang out with her, trust me. Mally and Andre can vouch for me. Just don’t.”

“Okay, I guess I can do that.”

They sat in silence, Gina combing her fingers through Sammie’s hair to make sure it was fully covered. “Your hair looks good, now we wait,” she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them in the garbage next to the toilet. “Uh, do you wanna do nails while we wait?”

“Sure,” Sammie said. “I can do yours, if you go grab colours.”

Gina nodded before heading back to her room. That was… strange, right? How Sammie had talked about Logan? What was up with the two of them, anyways? Gina wasn’t sure, but hopefully it was just a misunderstanding on Sammie’s part. Logan was bad news, and the two of them hanging out was worse news.

She grabbed a couple colours; sparkly black and her favourite purple. She brought them back to the bathroom and sat down on the floor in front of Sammie. She’d been doing something on her phone while Gina was in her room, and Gina sat for a moment before she put her phone away. “Sorry, I had to respond to a couple messages.”

“That’s okay. Here, here’s my colours.” She put one hand up and Sammie opened the bottle of purple. She started applying the colour with an ease Gina had never been able to master.

“We should listen to music,” Gina said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket with her free hand. She opened her Spotify and scrolled through her playlists until she found one that wouldn’t totally embarrass her.

“Oh, this is a bop,” she said as the first song came on.

“Oh, yeah!” Sammie said, grinning. She started singing along. “You would not believe your eyes…”

Gina joined in. “If ten million fireflies…”

“Lit up the world as I fell asleep,” they sang in unison. They sang the whole song, relishing each other’s company. By the time the song was over, the first coat on Gina’s nails was finished, and Sammie was on the second coat.

“That was good,” Sammie said, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” Gina laughed. “Ooh, this next one is good. I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when…”

“So I made up my mind, it must come to an end,” Sammie joined in. She finished the final coat of polish on Gina’s nails before the song ended.

“Alright, your nails are done, just let them dry and we can rinse my hair.”

“The bottom drawer on your left, there’s a hair dryer. We can dry my nails faster,” Gina said. She paused the music as Sammie plugged it in. She put her hands out in front of her as Sammie turned it on and aimed it at Gina’s nails.

They sat in relative silence, the only noise being the hair dryer. Not quite silence, but one sound enveloping the small room. After about five minutes, Sammie turned it off and said, “Try that.”

Gina tentatively touched her pinky nail. “Dry,” she said, standing up. “Now for your hair.”

She turned the sink back on as Sammie leaned back once more. Gina combed her fingers through Sammie’s hair, turning the water in the sink bright pink. After a few minutes of rinsing, she said, “I think you’re good. Let’s blow it dry.”

Sammie handed her the dryer from where it had been sitting in her lap. Gina switched it on and started blow drying her friend’s hair. She pulled the clip out and ran her fingers through until she determined it was dry. Gina turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it. “Ready for the final reveal?”

Sammie nodded with a nervous smile. She stood up and turned around. “Oh my gosh I love it!” she cried. “It’s so beautiful! Thank you!”

Gina smiled. “It turned out nicely,” she said. “Not gonna lie, I was a bit nervous too.”

“You were?” Sammie asked. “You did it so well! I can’t stop looking at it!”

“Ah, it was nothing. But my nails! You made it look so easy! I always get it all over my fingers and then have to wipe it off.”

“I did my nails a lot in middle school.”

“Makes sense.” They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Gina added, “We should clean this up, and it’s getting late. I can drive you home.”

“Yeah, you’re right. A ride would be great.” Sammie grabbed the towel and the chair and asked, “Where do these go?”

“Uh, the towel can go on the hook behind the door there,” Gina pointed. “And the chair goes in the garage. Do you mind taking it down there while I finish cleaning up the garbage?”

Sammie nodded and took the chair downstairs. Gina grabbed the rest of the garbage, threw it away, and brought the nail polish and the rest of the hair dye back to her room. She set them on her dresser and ran downstairs.

“C’mon, let’s go,” she said to Sammie as she entered the garage. She hopped in the driver’s seat as Sammie climbed in next to her.

“This was fun,” Sammie said Gina started backing out.

“Yeah, it was.” Gina realised this was the perfect time to admit something that had been pulling at her stomach all week. “Uh, Sammie, uh, I dunno how to say this. It’s only been, what, a week since you came, but I really-” She stopped herself and swallowed.

“I like you.”

The words hung there, suspended between them for what felt like an eternity. Gina couldn’t take her eyes off the road, wouldn't let herself. She was scared, but she couldn't take the words back.

Sammie gulped loudly enough for Gina to hear before saying, “I think I might like you.”

They didn’t live far apart, and that short ride had already brought them into Sammie’s driveway. Gina parked and neither girl said anything. She turned to face Sammie and saw Sammie staring at her.

Gina could see Sammie unbuckle her seatbelt, but nothing could have prepared her for Sammie to lean over and kiss her. It was so sudden, she hadn’t even registered what was happening until it was over. Sammie had opened the door and was climbing out of the car.

“Bye!” she called as she slammed the door shut and ran into the house, and just like that, she was gone.

Gina sat there, absolutely shocked. Of all the things she had expected to happen that day, that was not one of them. But Sammie had disappeared inside. There was nothing for Gina to do except drive home and hold the secret tight. That experience, that moment, was going to stay in this car, and Gina couldn't do anything about it, so she didn’t try to fight it. Instead, she drove home and tried not to think about it. After all, what else could she do?

[maysbanks]

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

[lady-grace-pens]

Wip Excerpt: HTKAG

In light of this wip hitting another 10k word goal recently (currently sitting pretty at a whopping 120k/150k 😅), another excerpt is due! This babe I wrote today, buut I actually loved it so much I knew I had to share it with y'all right away. That all being said, let's stop wasting time and get straight into it!

Our scene begins with Allister entering a restaurant to have dinner with Mikko, Fingal, and Perci, but Perci is late.

—

Upon telling the hostess Fingal’s name, she leads me away to the right half of the room. Off in a booth stowed away in the corner sit Mikko and Fingal jabbering away mid-conversation. Once they notice me, they stop and smile.

“Hey! There’s the man of the hour,” Mikko exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“Not late, am I?” I grin, taking a seat beside him.

“Nope. Right on time to get some drinks,” Mikko starts smouldering at our hostess.

“With what money?” Fingal retorts with a glare.

Mikko blinks, struggling to come up with a defense. It seems he mustn't have anticipated Fingal to interrupt his attempt at flirting…

“Wha - With our money, of course,” he laughs, trying his best to make a smooth recovery.

“Aye. Which is why we’re not using my money to buy alcohol while a minor is here.”

Mikko doesn’t reply. Then again I suppose he doesn't need to, his confusion is written all over his face.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about Perci. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Oh! Fuck, that’s right. Him. Well obviously he won’t be getting any. And come on! You know how fast I can down a beer Fin! It’ll just be a few. Just a few rounds! Don’t be an ass.”

“Watch yourself Mikko, it's not polite to use such language in the presence of a lady.” I chime in, giving the hostess a polite smile.

“Oh I’ll show you what’s not polite-” Mikko says before slapping my head.

I try to hit him back, but he catches my hand before I can. Before we know it, we’re caught in a ridiculous slapping fight, both laughing our asses off.

“Not in a restaurant, not in a restaurant!” I speak through gasps, trying to end things.

Mikko obliges, tossing his hands back in his lap.

“A waiter will be right with you,” the hostess makes a case to look at each one of us except for Mikko before finishing her sentence, “... gentleman.”

Much to my surprise, Mikko doesn’t seem to be affected by that backhanded insult. Instead he kicks his knees up against the table and rests his head back, totally listless.

“Mikko, I would’ve thought you’d be more offended by that.”

“Huh? Why would I be offended at something when it’s true?”

“I’ll say. You and Al couldn’t be any more opposite. If there’s anything larger than the truth, the fact that you’re not a gentleman is way beyond it.”

“Exactly. And Mikko, you are aware of the fact that she was just a hostess, right? It isn’t even her job to serve us drinks.”

“I... “ Mikko laughs before leaning over the table again. “Listen. You two just don’t get it, do you? No. You don’t. Allow me to be the one who graces your palettes here, eh? Let me tell you what I’m gonna do. Okay? I’m gonna give you a tip. A piece of advice that will change your lives forever. All for free! You don’t even have to pay me. All you gotta do is listen. Got it? You both ready?”

Fingal and I share a look. I can tell we’re thinking along a similar vein of confused intrigue. We should most likely stop Mikko here, as whatever will come out his mouth won’t be anything good. However, we’re both too stunned to stop him, so…

Mikko beckons us to lean closer to him. Fin and I oblige. We’re almost touching heads when at last our dear mentor speaks once again, in a hushed voice. “It’s not about what you say. It’s about how you say it.”

…

There are no words. For about a minute straight Fingal and I are just staring at each other wearing the same expression that exudes two questions. ‘What the fuck? You’ve heard that too, haven’t you?’

Soon after that’s established and our shock subsides, we burst back to life. Fingal starts us off with, “Dammit Mikko. What the fuck? Where did you learn that? Who taught you that?”

“Some guys from the bar! Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Which guys from the bar?”

“I don’t see how it-”

“Mikko. Which guys from the bar taught you this?” Fingal insists, a flash of anger showing in his eyes.

Mikko seems to notice this, and complies straight away. “Leo, John, Peter and Paul!”

Fingal buries his head in his hands. This sparks my curiosity. I haven’t heard these names before, but Fin clearly has.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with them, who might they be?”

“Bar friends-” Mikko starts, only for Fingal to finish for him.

“Jokesters. Jerks. Cheapskates always looking for a laugh. Assholes. Can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind.”

Mikko shrinks away from Fin. His head is turned away from me, but I don’t need to see it in order to know how stunned he is. It’s expressed flawlessly through the abnormal quietness of his voice. “Fin? What’s up, why’d you-”

“Because those dicks have been filling your head with shit like this every damn time I turned my back, Mikko! Dammit, this - this is why you always get rejected! Universe, I just wish you would’ve checked with me first about things like this. Not some strangers you barely even know, yet idolize them anyway.

You wanna know how you get a girl Mikko? Huh? You be nice. You be nice to them, you talk with them, and you listen. Compliments and flirting, all that helps, of course, but not forever! And you sure as hell can’t build a relationship strictly off of it. Okay? Standards and expectations vary from girl to girl, but with each and every single one there are a few things that you just have to do. Be nice, have respect, help them just for the sake of helping them! Don’t expect anything in return. Overall just - just be a decent fucking human being. That is how you get a girl.”

Mikko sits there, staring at his brother. I can’t help but do the same. In every respect, Fingal is right. Of course he is. It’s just… rare that we see him so worked up. I can hardly believe my eyes. I can hardly believe my ears, I… I can’t imagine how Mikko must be feeling.

Oh so gradually his head sinks down into his lap. He slumps over, and I swear I can see fractions of tears reflect the golden light radiating above us.

“Can’t believe I’m actually telling you this when you’re eighteen. Fucking eighteen,” Fingal scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad at you. This is my own fault, I blame myself.”

“Aw, come on man! That’s even worse,” pouts Mikko.

Fingal then turns to me with an abruptness that makes me jump. “Al, what’s up? You’ve been quiet for a while. You can back me up on this, can’t you?”

“I…” I force a chuckle to try and lighten the air some. “I don’t think that I’m currently in a position to give advice like this, to be honest with you.”

Fingal leans his elbows on the table, holding his head with one hand. “Why? Something happen with Maddie?”

“Oh, did it ever,” I shake my head.

—

Aand that's all you guys get for spoiler reasons! Lmao

(also because that's all I've written today but shhhh don't tell anyone)

Buut yeah. Legit I swear I didn't mean to go so hard on feminist Fingal 😂 I mean don't get me wrong here, he's absolutely right and I'm keeping it in. But still, the words just kept on coming and coming and we ended up with this

so

y'know

yeah

writing is super fun sometimes

Plus tbh, writing the part where Mikko is stroking his ego and whispers his ‘top secret trick to get women’, I was literally laughing out loud 😂 like he's just so wrong, and I love how horribly Mikko fails in life. It's just super funny to me, I enjoy it a lot.

Fingal, however, clearly does not enjoy it, lmao. Legit I had no clue he could be so protective until today! Especially over Mikko. I mean I always knew their dynamics, but today… it really hit home for me.

Go back and look at the line of dialogue Fingal says right after Mikko apologizes (a rare occurrence, actually).

It’s just one little piece of dialogue, barely a few sentences! Yet I feel like it hits you. You know? It reveals so much about his and Mikko’s vibes, their situation. A pair of brothers poor and orphaned by their birth parents and raised by their grandmother, who is only growing older and weaker each year. Fingal, the eldest, having to take responsibility often. He feels pressured to raise his little bro, and feels like he's failed when Mikko turns out to be the way he is. Ya know? It's just one little thing of dialogue but I feel like it makes you feel the pressure Fin has to bear in a situation like theirs. Even if it’s only for a moment.

And Mikko! While he does incite a lot of the comic relief in HTKAG, I wouldn’t call him a strict comic relief character because that's never what I had in mind while writing him. He and Fin actually play a vital role in the plot of the story! Much more than what I can currently reveal to y'all.

Buut anyways, I'll stop rambling now. I really hope you guys enjoyed this little excerpt just as much as I adored writing it :)

—

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @vampire-with-a-pen @writingonesdreams @justyouraveragewriter @kazenokaori @dahladahlabills

[thoushallnotfall]

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 9

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Notes: Sorry this one was a bit delayed compared to my like, everyday/every-other-day release schedule here lately; it was a busy weekend.

This one broke me y'all. Stick a fork in me because I’m done. RIP my sweet baby; I didn’t intent to get this attached to Razzle what the fluff man! (Fun fact: I listen to Snow Patrol’s ‘Run’ when I have to write sad scenes and it makes it 1000% worse! 👍)

Warnings: Major Character Death (ugh god I was not looking forward to this), Drug Use, Depression

1984

You had initially had some reservations about leaving to go on tour with Razzle and the rest of Hanoi Rocks: worried about leaving the boys in Motley Crue, worried about what it would be like to travel with another band you barely knew, worried about where your relationship was with Razzle. However, after being with them for a few days you had found yourself settling in nicely.

You and Razzle hadn’t seen each other since your first night together, and despite talking to each other constantly you were a little nervous to see him again. You tried to tell yourself it was a good thing; butterflies meant you actually liked him, right? You desperately wanted things to work out, but then what if he wasn’t feeling the same way? What if you were like just another groupie to him? You knew that wasn’t true, but of course you couldn’t help but wonder about it all the way to his hotel.

As soon as you laid eyes on him standing in the lobby waiting for you, you felt your heart leap straight through your chest. When he saw you, he smiled brighter than the sun, and you felt all the worry and fear you had melt away.

Things with Razzle had been going well from that moment on. You were officially dating, which was a strange change for you, but honestly you didn’t hate it. Razzle was fun and charming, and now that you could finally spend time together you found yourself wanting to be with him more and more. You spent most of your time with him when he wasn’t performing, and he didn’t seem to mind; just as taken with you as you were with him. You were both so naturally comfortable around each other–it reminded you of how you were with the boys in Motley Crue.

You were so wrapped up with Razzle you had nearly forgotten to call Mick that first night. You kept that conversation brief; simply telling him you’d made it alright and that’d you’d call him again later. After that you tried to call him or Vince in a similar fashion to how you had called Razzle before: any time you made it to a new hotel you’d called and check in, just to see how they were doing and make sure everything was going alright.

Vince and Mick were always happy to hear from you: Mick would make sure you were doing alright, and Vince would want to tell you all about the crazy antics they were getting up to while you were gone. Tommy and Nikki were another story. They had apparently gone on quite a binder after you’d left; pissed off and hurt that you’d ‘abandon’ them for someone else. You and the rest of Hanoi Rocks weren’t sober by any means, but you weren’t going nearly as hard as Motley Crue, and you were worried maybe they were taking things too far.

You had noticed the partying was getting worse before you’d left, but you hadn’t said anything. You trusted them to know when to quit. Maybe you should have tried to say something; maybe encouraged them to cut back a bit. Now they were going harder then ever, and it was your fault. You hated to think about something happening, but you knew Doc was there; surely he’d keep them in line. He wouldn’t let them get too far out of hand.

Surely it wasn’t that bad.

You never talked to Nikki when you called. You asked for him, but he was too stubborn to talk to you. Tommy eventually caved, sheepishly agreeing to talk to you. He apologized for what he’d said, saying he was just upset you were leaving and that he had been scared he was losing you. You admit you were still hurt, but you forgave him–how could you not? He was still your best friend, and being apart from them all made you realize even more just how important they were to you. You missed them all after just a few days apart.

So when the days had turned to weeks and the boys started asking you when you were coming back, you weren’t sure what to say. You missed them all–even Nikki, with his attitude shift over the last few months causing you nothing but grief–but you didn’t want to leave. You were getting along well with the rest of the band, who were treating you like a little sister; and while they liked to party they weren’t nearly as crazy as Motley Crue, and it was kind of nice to be away from that atmosphere for awhile.

The more pressing issue was your ever-growing feelings for Razzle. The more time you spend with him, the more sure you became that you didn’t want to be apart from him. He was already talking about taking you back to London with them when the tour was over, and to your surprise you had eagerly agreed with his plans. You wanted to go; even if part of you was torn.

As much as you found yourself falling for Razzle, you couldn’t deny you missed your boys. If things continued to progress with Razzle and you went with him to London, would you ever come back? Of course, don’t be ridiculous. That’s the thought that would cross your mind, but you already knew Razzle was planning to ask you to move in with him; that would mean you’d rarely get to see the boys. They’d been your whole life for 3 years–Nikki was the only family you had. You wanted to live your life, but could you really leave them behind to do it?

—

December 8, 1984

After Michael had fractured his ankle, Hanoi Rocks had taken a break to let him recover. You had taken them to a Motley Crue show in hopes the bands would become friends–and because you desperately wanted to see the boys. They were excited to see you; even Nikki, who was trying his best to hide it by playing it cool. They mingled with the Hanoi boys, and you made sure everyone had a great time. They all ended up becoming friends by the end of the night; though Tommy still couldn’t seem to get along Razzle.

So when Vince decided to throw a party at his mansion, he made sure to invite them along.

You watch from the living room, drink in hand as Tommy begins talking up the pretty blonde actress. What was her name again? Heather something–whatever, you didn’t even like T. J. Hooker, it was so overrated. You scowl as she flashes him a brilliant, beautiful smile. You feel someone’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, a set of lips press a row of kisses up your neck.

“What are you up to, beauiful?” Razzle’s breath tickle’s your ear and you giggle, turning and wrapping your arms around him.

“Just waiting for you.” You say, smiling at him. He smirks back, before leaning down to kiss you; you can taste the alcohol on his tongue.

“Were you?” He laughs. “It’s a good thing I came and found you then, innit?” He leans down and gives you another quick kiss. You thought about the first night you met Razzle; how he’d come and found you when you were alone that night too.

“Hmm, yeah it is.” You agree, laying your head against his chest. You listened to his heart thumping loudly in his chest, overtaking the noise of the party. He rubbed your back lightly.

“Listen love, I’m just gonna go wif Vince real quick since we’ve run outta beer–but I’ll be back before you know it, yeah?” He says, pulling you back so he can look at you.

“What? Why can’t someone else go?” You pout.

“I’ve already told Vince I’d go; it’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon, and we can pick up right where we've left off.” He says, running his finger under your chin. You sigh.

“Alright; just come back soon, okay?” You say, and he smiles.

“Of course; no where else I’d rather be.” He leans down, giving you a quick kiss, then leaves to follow Vince out to the car, the two grabbing at each and laughing as they run out.

With Razzle and Vince gone and Tommy busy, you move through the party looking for someone else to talk to, when you spot Nikki sitting alone on the sofa.

“Surprised to see you slumming it with me instead of hanging with your boyfriend.” Nikki says when you sit down next to him. He snorts a line of coke off a tray that’s sitting on a coffee table in front of you.

“He’s off buying booze with Vince.” You reply flatly. He was obviously trying to pick a fight, but you didn’t want to fight with him right now. You didn’t get to see him enough; if you could avoid fighting with him by ignoring his jabs, you would suck it up and do what you had to do to have a conversation with your brother.

“That explains it.” He replies with a smirk, sniffing as he leans back on the sofa. “So what about Tommy then?”

“He’s busy flirting with some actress.” You say, scowling. Nikki gives you a knowing grin, and you snatch the straw from his hand, moving to the table to take a hit of coke. Nikki chuckles. “What?” You ask as you wipe your nose.

“When are you going to stop all this bullshit and just admit you’re in love with Tommy?” He asks, a smile still playing on his lips.

“Damnit, not this again.” You groan, laying against the back of the couch. “I’ve told you and everyone else a thousand times before: I don’t have feelings for Tommy, okay?”

“Uh huh, sure you don’t: and I’m the Queen of England.” Nikki jokes.

“Well, your majesty, you can think whatever you want; I’m not in love with Tommy, and that’s all there is to it.” You say, crossing your arms. “Besides, I’m clearly already in a relationship. I’m happy with Nic–I love him. I don’t know why you keep pushing this Tommy crap when I’m literally already in love with someone else.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t; doesn’t change the fact you’re also in love with Tommy. It’s not my fault you’re too stupid to realize it.” Nikki shrugs. You roll your eyes, standing up.

“Whatever Nikki.” You say, walking away.

—

You mingle here and there; talking with Sharise, Mick, the other guys in Hanoi Rocks. Eventually, you settle back on the coach and wait for Razzle and Vince to get back. It’s taking them longer than it should, but you try not to worry; they’ll be back soon.

You keep waiting, but they’re still not back. The party starts to thin out more and more as the night goes on; guests finding rooms to pass out in, people leaving to head home, some finding others to go home with. And still you’re waiting, the dread slowly growing like a cancer in the pit of your stomach.

Eventually the other guys float in one at a time to join you. Mick, then Tommy, and finally Nikki. They all sit with you, the four of you waiting for your friend to come home. No one says a word about it, talking around the subject, afraid that speaking their fears will make them real. The three of them know it’s worse for you; waiting not just for Vince, but for Razzle too. You silently lean your head against Tommy’s shoulder, closing your eyes as he wraps his arm around you.

In the early morning, you see the lights from the police cars shine through the windows, and feel your body grow numb. You suck in a shaky breath, grabbing hold of Tommy’s hand and squeezing with all you have. Each knock on the door echoes through the house like the tolling of bells. Your hearts sinks into the pit in your stomach as you watch Sharise open the door, two officers standing on the other side. Mick and Nikki stand up to go to her, but Tommy stays with you on the couch; you can’t move. You can’t breath.

You don’t hear what they say, you just see Sharise go down; Mick catches her before she hits the ground. Nikki looks at you, a mixture of grief and pity spread across his face. He comes back to the sofa, looking down at you.

No, don’t say it. I don’t want to hear. Please.

“Nikki, what’s going on?” Tommy asks, squeezing your shoulder as he holds your hand. Nikki’s eyes dart over to you nervously, before he quickly looks back at Tommy.

“There was an accident.” Nikki replies. “Vince is gonna be okay, but he’s been arrested. The people in the other car are in critical condition. And Razzle…” He looks at you, clenching his fists as he takes a breath. “I’m so sorry y/n. Razzle’s dead.”

You feel the tears on your cheeks without even realizing you were crying. You look at Nikki, clenching your jaw as you shake your head.

“No; no Nikki that’s not–” Your breath was coming faster, even though your lungs felt totally empty. “That’s not right, he was just here.” You whine, Nikki moves to crouch down in front of you, taking your hands. Tommy held you tighter against his side as Nikki looks up at you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but he’s gone.” Nikki says calmly. You look down at him, your eyes spilling over with tears.

“No, nonono, please…” You turn your head and bury it in Tommy’s shoulder. He moves to wrap you in his embrace, holding the back of your head as you weep into him.

“I’m so sorry y/n; it’s gonna be okay.” He repeats to you quietly as he gently rocks you in his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”

You hold onto Tommy for dear life, afraid if you let go of him you’ll spiral out of control. It doesn’t feel real; your mind tries to rationalize a million different ways it isn’t true, where he’s alright and you’ll be together and all of this will just be a bad dream. But it hurts too much to be a dream; the pain in your chest worse than anything you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re vaguely aware of Nikki coming up to sit beside you, his hand on your shoulder as it shakes from the sobs that rack your body.

You sat there and cried for who knows how long. You would become aware of the events of the house; Mick helped Sharise get to her room to rest, then had the unfortunate job of telling Razzle’s bandmates about the accident. You heard them all come through towards the front door, you heard them all stop and stare at you as you cried, felt the pity like a wave crashing into you as they looked at you.

A sad, bitter part of yourself would later wonder if they blamed you for this; if you hadn’t been a part of Razzle’s life, he never would have been there, right? You would understand if they did. After all, you did. This was your fault. That’s the thought that echoed in your mind as the tears dried on your cheeks and you finally detached yourself from Tommy.

You introduced him to the boys, your brought him here, you let him go. He was dead and it was your fault.

—

You felt a sickening sense of numbness overtake you after Razzle’s death. People talk at you, but their words sound so far away. Nothing seemed real anymore; like you were floating in a dark sea, just moving from one place to another, never really knowing exactly where you were going next.

You’d gone to see Razzle’s body in the hospital despite protests from the boys. His bandmates were already there when you’d arrived, mourning their loss together. You felt like an intruder; an outsider in their sacred space. But they all came up to you, each of them making sure to comfort you despite they themselves needing comfort. That’s not something you could give them now, your heart so broken you weren’t sure you could even feel anything again.

They told you not to go in; that you should wait until the wake. You’d gone anyway. You told yourself you needed to know for sure, needed to see him for yourself to prove he was really gone. Deep down, you thought maybe you were just punishing yourself for what you’d done.

—

After the hospital, you wanted to do nothing; just keep floating in your darkness, letting the current carry you wherever it may. But you had to pack, had to get ready for the funeral. You were going to London; just thinking about it made you sick. You had been so excited, planning a trip there with Razzle only weeks ago, and now you were heading there alone for his funeral.

You look at the bag of white powder on your nightstand as you zip up your suitcase. You wanted to pack the cocaine that was barely keeping you afloat through this whole ordeal, but you couldn’t risk getting arrested through customs. You would just have to get high before you left and hope the alcohol on the flight would be enough to keep you up until you found something in England.

The coke wasn’t working like it used to; you were taking more and more, but it wasn’t the same high you used to get. You needed something more, something else. You didn’t know what; you just didn’t want to feel this way anymore–tired, depressed, like the whole world was caving in on you. Everything hurt, and it all just felt so pointless now.

—

On the way to the airport, you had the taxi take you to the jail. You hadn’t spoken to Vince since the night of the accident, unsure exactly what you would say, but you didn’t want to leave the country without talking to him.

You sat on one side of a plexiglass wall, staring at the empty seat on the other side. Vince is brought in dressed in an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs, and is sat down in front of you. Apparently, you were not who he was expecting to see. His eyes go wide as he stares at you from across the glass divider, your face a mask as you look back at him. He looks tired; bags having formed under his normally bright blue eyes, and an ashy sheen to his tanned skin. You probably don’t look much better, your eyes perpetually blood shot and puffy from crying and a lack of sleep.

You move your hand over to grab the telephone attached to the wall, and Vince quickly does the same. He looks at you with pain in his eyes, clearly unsure of what he should say.

“Y/N–” He starts, tears stinging the corner of his eyes.

“Orange looks awful on you.” You cut him off. He looks back at you, dumbfounded. He starts laughing, tears still in his eyes.

“It’s never been my color.” He replies. You stare back at him through the glass. He sighs, “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He looked nervous, like he wanted to know, but was afraid to hear the answer.

“I’m leaving for London today.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. “For Nic’s funeral, and I just, I-I just wanted to see you, before I left. I didn’t want you to think–” You stop, looking away as the tears began sliding down your cheeks. You had gone over how you felt about Vince after the accident a thousand times, and it was always the same.

You knew what had happened was wrong; they never should have left, drunk as they were. It was a stupid mistake. But it was just a mistake; an accident. Razzle had been just as drunk, and you’d let him go, knowing how drunk everyone was at that party–how drunk Vince likely was–and you’d just let them leave. Why should Vince shoulder that mistake alone?

You took a deep breath, a turned back to him.

“I didn’t want to leave without saying I don’t blame you for what happened, Vince.” You say, looking back at him with as much resolve as you can muster.

“Y/N, I, I don’t…” You see tears start to spill out of the corners of his eyes. He looks down at the desk.

“I know, it’s okay.” You say, the first bit of comfort you’ve been able to give since Razzle died. “Listen Vince, I have to go; I just– just wanted you to know, okay?” You say, standing up.

You leave feeling a little lighter than when you came in, though the heaviness inside you still feels too immense to carry alone.

[liberty-barnes]

the good think about staying home cause i'm sick is that i can finally watch the afh stream

so yeah, i've been crying for an hour and a half

like first of all this is done amazingly, charlie lightning really smashed it, no lie

hélène is the new love of my life, i just wanna hug the living daylights out of her for everything she's done for louis

the band is fucking amazing and that instrumental solo in fearless sounded like angels coming out of my tv

the crowd looking gayer than a pride parade makes me incredibly proud to know that this is not only thanks to louis, but that he knows we love and support him and that we're as brave and fearless as we are thanks to him

"only you lot can hear [copy³] once and know it that fucking well!" well, we've kinda been streaming it non stop since you first sang it so it's more like hearing it a million times but go off i guess

jho is making me fucking bawl. that song's been saving my life for four years and hearing him perform it will never not make me emotional

to everyone that was there, i'm so happy for you and thank you for letting him know how much we love him and SCREAMING the "come so far from princess park" line

this was supposed to be a short thing, but like all things in my life, it's turning into a running commentary so i'm sorry in advance

CHANGE IS NEXT YAY I ACC HAVEN'T HEARD IT BEFORE

i've been avoiding it like the plague until i had time to watch the livestream so

okay i already love it

the way the arena went quiet cause we know we need a clean version lmaooooooo

OOOOH THAT HIGH NOTE ON "cAAALL ON mEEEE" just about killed me, it was so clean

"if you need you can call on me, i'll be the friend you need, everything's changed outside, but i feel the same inside" PLS CAN YOU SEE MY TEARS

everyone's crying in the audience and looking at him with literal heart eyes and tbh same

those instrumental solos are so fucking good

this song is gonna be perfect for everything, like i can study to it, i can listen to it on the bus, i can scream it at the top of my lungs

"hold it, i'm talking" you're such a DIVA

"i'm looking around and obviously none of you know the words" give it two more listens and we'll be good, don't you worry

DEFENCELESS DEFENCELESS DEFENCELESS

"got so much to ✨lose✨" music asmr for my overworked brain

the "oh oh oh oh oh" with the instruments, and the music, and the audience >>>>> every fucking thing else

he must be having the time of his life on stage i'm so proud of him omg my baby boy i'm having a proud mama moment even though this guy's like 11 years older than me but i don't give a single flying fuck i love him so much

i need a shower to wash the salt off my face, i cried a little too much these last few songs

YAY BEAUTIFUL WAR I LOVE THIS ONE

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that the reason the drums sounded like they were making different notes is cause there must be someone playing bass but i jusy can't see them cause i'm too focused on louis and Hot Guitar Guys

oh there's the one playing bass

i think

oh give me a break i'm sleep deprived and high on pain meds

idk if i miss his long hair or dig the short hair, but either way he looks gorgeous and i love him and i want that shirt

i should watch this with my louis and play a drinking game

drink everytime he curses

we'll end up smashed but it's worth it

LITTLE BLACK DRESS OH MY GOD

IDK IF I'M FREAKING OUT CAUSE WE'LL GET A LOUIS VERSION OF IT OR IF I'M CRYING CAUSE WE DIDN'T GET A LARRY CATWALK MOMENT BUT EITHER WAY OH MY FUCKING GOD

i wanna kiss and kill whoever thought it'd be a good idea to have these many instrumental solos

kiss them cause they sound amazing

but kill them cause i'm slowly falling in love with Matt The Bassist and i don't have the mental stability to handle yet another crush on a white man but damn if he doesn't look hot with that thing in hand

like between matt dinnadge and victoria de angelis and calum hood i'm really just a hoe for bassists huh

FOR EVERY QUESTION WHY YOU WERE MY BECAUSE

i don't know who the violin girl with shoulder-length hair is but ma'am please marry me

louis taking shots is hilarious PLEASE the cough and immediate drink of water made me laugh so hard

THROUGH THE DARK YAY

even if you screeeeaaaaam and shout *cue video of liam screaming cause louis poured water down the back of his shirt*

*affectionately flips fans off🥰*

he loves us so much and that makes me so happy

this fandom is honestly amazing, from the love we get from him to the love we have for each other. it's like a fucking found family and we all know how much i love those. i love you guys🤍

hélène really wasn't lying when she said he'd sound the best he ever did

this show was 50% louis asking the crowd to sing and i'm not sven mad cause the pure happiness on his face hearing his songs being yelled back at him is too good. it's like he's surprised that we love those songs with all our hearts like of course we do they're fucking masterpieces

this is getting increasingly incoherent but who cares

DON'T KICK THE CAMERA THOSE ARE EXPENSIVE

kmm was the best song to end the show

louis and his band jumping around in happiness >>>>>>

"let's go have a DRINK!!!" god i wish but i'm on antibiotics

"oh fuck me man" i mean i'm sure we can arrange something, i'd have to check if harry's good with it, maybe we'd have to turn it into a threesome but i'm good with that

louis & hélène are my new friendship otp

louis with his family >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"they're so loud" well i mean we learned from you, Mr Loud Loud Loud

the tommo sisters are eating pizza and now i want some too

i wish i could hug hélène, she's so amazing

"i've got these lot behind me, who the fuck's gonna stop us?" FUCKING NOBODY THAT'S WHO

i'm off to cry now, bye y'all

i'm so glad i have this downloaded cause this is the only thing i'll be watching for the rest of my life

[sisterkosho]

Modern!AU Headcanons | Geto Family

Credits: Y'all know the drill. Ayume art in the header by @hiikkups on Instagram. Go follow her. 🔫👁👄👁

Warnings: None today. Just some modern shenanigans for your reading pleasure.

Notes: Y'all also know the other drill. I procrastinate and don't write Ayume's bio, and y'all get some random fic/HC post because I gotta keep y'all fed somehow. With that being said, here's some modern HCs for the SuguYume fam while I work on the Discord, because we were talking about it again last night and it's honestly one of my favorites + another coping mechanism so yEET--

It all started when Ayume Nejireta Geto moved in next door with her husband and two children.

What could possibly go wrong?

Turns out, their elderly neighbor, Rui, was none to thrilled about their house having been built on top of one of her flower gardens. Despite it happening decades before they even arrived there.

Grandma holds a grudge ok.

Thankfully, she didn't scare them off like she did any of the previous families who had lived there.

You get used to her after awhile.

The one person she happened to take a liking to was Satoru of all people, who she met during one of the family's backyard BBQs. Which are always a mess btw, needless to say.

She even made cookies for him.

Ayume and Suguru were extremely confused because of this. How did he manage to get on her good side?

"She never gives us cookies, wth."

Turns out he had been flirting with her. Big surprise.

Though in his own defense, you'd never guess Rui was a grandma just by looking at her. The neighborhood is convinced she's immortal and doesn't age.

Ever since that day, Satoru made it a point to stop by Rui's whenever he's visiting. Just because he knows flattery will get him free food.

He's rarely allowed to visit specifically for that reason. Well, that and the fact that he's just a bad influence on the girls and everyone knows it.

Then again, the family friend, Juno, isn't much better.

He somehow got ahold of the spare key, and will randomly just let himself in.

They once woke up at 3 A.M because they heard rummaging around coming from the kitchen.

Suguru instinctively grabbed a bat and went to go switch on the lights.

Only to find Juno eating out of their trash like a raccoon.

This lead to the girls new favorite excuse.

"Juno ate my homework."

We don't talk about the time he brought a rock over claiming it was his son.

Sometimes they question why they still associate with him, but still let him stick around for whatever reason.

At the very least, he's intimidated by Ayume. So he doesn't cause too much trouble.

The family has a wide array of strange decorations in their home. Most of which they don't even recall buying.

Such as the weird plant in their dining room that sorta looks like it has a face...

There's also the model volcano the girls made for a school project.

For some reason, they had stuck one singular googly eye on it and named it "Jogo".

Ayume and Suguru were understandably a bit concerned, but It's fine as long as you don't make eye contact with it.

Ayume runs a little Etsy shop where she sells stickers she made. Along with some other little aesthetic items like pins.

For designs inspired by various curses, they're surprisingly cute.

The girls like to help her make some of the designs from time to time.

Since it's more of a hobby than an actual job, she always makes sure the money earned from the things they helped with are spent on them.

Shopping trips tend to be the most chaotic.

And that's not even considering the encounters they have with Mahito. The hobo that tends to hang around the entrance.

We don't talk about him.

Somehow, the trips always lead to Ayume running around while pushing the girls on the shopping cart.

Suguru always ends up having to chase after them because plz they're gonna get hurt--

Heaven forbid they run into Rui somewhere along the line, because it only gets 10x worse. She offers to push the cart and ends up almost knocking down every shelf and person in sight.

There was one instance where she ran right over Satoru.

After all that, Ayume and the girls end up making Suguru push them around in one of those carts with the seats on them for the rest of the trip because their legs got tired from running around.

They eventually end up getting kicked out.

Suguru sometimes has to wonder what he's doing here.

"How? How do you get us kicked out of WALMART?"

"Beats me. Hey, let's go to Ikea next!"

They are currently banned from 3 different Walmarts, two Ikeas and a McDonald's.

The McDonald's was from the time Satoru had come to visit and got stuck in the play place.

Suguru had to climb up there to try and get him out, but also got stuck.

Turns out, Rui had gotten stuck before they even got there. Which they only learned after hearing a faint "So. You too huh?" from the the next tunnel over.

In the end, they ended up having to call the fire department to get these two grown men and one grandma out of the play place.

It was on the local news and everything.

The footage had been provided by Nanako, who had recorded the entire incident while Ayume and Mimiko giggled hysterically.

You better believe they were never able to live it down.

After that nightmare, Suguru had tried to make dinner but ended up setting off the smoke alarm.

All he was trying to do was put a frozen pizza in the oven...

Needless to say, it was a rough day for everyone.

Date nights for the couple are rare and reserved for special occasions. Mainly because they hardly trust anyone to babysit.

Rui doesn't seem to understand the concept of children, and it would be a cold day in hell before they'd ever ask Satoru.

But sometimes, they manage to convince Kento.

He's the only one they find trustworthy enough for the job. Because although the girls find him a little boring and strict at times, he's the only responsible person they know.

At least with him, they can rest assured that the house will still be standing by the time they get back.

And on the plus side, the girls love Yu. Because let's face it, he's the fun uncle. So when Kento makes it a point to bring him along, there's always plenty of fun to be had.

Even if it feels like he's stuck babysitting 3 kids instead of 2 at times...

In case it wasn't already obvious, they're one of the most chaotic families in the whole neighborhood.

But that's what makes them interesting, so they somehow manage remain on good terms with everyone.

If one thing is for certain, it's that there's never a dull moment when it comes to the Geto family.

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Ice Man Job

leverage 2.08

Hardison: Jim Kerrity III. He took over Kerrity Diamonds four years ago after his old man retired, and in that small amount of time, he drove the business straight into the ground by living way beyond his means.

(Parker is restless on the couch and Eliot pushes her away from him)

Hardison: I'm talkin' drugs, booze, women.

(Parker continues to moves restlessly)

Hardison: According to his credit card statements... What? Why? What are you doin'?

Parker: What?

Eliot: What?

Parker: What?

Eliot: It's distracting.

Parker: The couch is feeling a little empty.

Nate: Eliot, will you please sit next to Parker.

Eliot: No, I'm sittin' here now.

Nate: Guys, guys. We all miss Sophie. I, we just have to adapt.

Hardison: I got this. Move, go.

(Hardison sits next to Parker on the couch)

Hardison: You happy? (picks up keyboard)

parker can’t get comfortable because she misses sophie. she’s never had friends/close family before (minus archie but that’s irrelevant) and sophie was one of her people and she doesn’t know how to cope properly when she loses them

the ot3 sitting together as they should

- - - - -

Nate: You know what, the thing about this that people don't understand is insurance fraud, it's a lot of red tape, and with a big claim like this, it'll take a year before Kerrity sees any money, and the bill collectors are not gonna wait around. He's gotta fence the diamonds.

Parker: He can't. (grabs the remote and changes the monitors)

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: His diamonds are GIA certified, VVS clarity, all about two carats.

Hardison: That's my clicker.

Parker: Who stole the Polar Star? (raises her hand) Who stole the Gem of Gibraltar? Damiani raid? Me. I know diamonds, and our bad guy can't fence those diamonds because stones that size have an ID number laser-inscribed on them.

Eliot: So it’s like a stolen car. Gotta clean the VIN before you can sell 'em.

Nate: How do you get that ID number off?

Parker: With a special laser. But only three guys can do it. Antwerp, Dubai, Tel Aviv

SHE KNOWS HER DIAMONDS

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Parker: Hi.

Man: Hello.

Parker: Buy me a drink?

Man: You got it. (gestures to the bartender and puts his hand on Parker’s knee) So?

(Parker grabs his fingers and breaks them, then picks up a briefcase and hits him in the chest before heading away, almost falling)

we LOVE to see parker not tolerating slimy men and hurting them when they touch her

- - - - -

Parker: Yeah, I'll be fine.

(later Parker is crouched behind the counter talking on the phone)

Parker: I will not be fine. I stabbed that guy with a fork.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Parker, Parker, relax. It's fine. Listen. Go to Nate's cupboard and you're gonna find a sexy little mini-dress and my emergency Jimmy Choos.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Jimmy who? You have a body in Nate's closet? (she looks excited)

[London Bar]

Sophie: Shoes, Parker. Didn't I teach you any...? All right, listen. This is the important bit. Do you still have the Rosalind Diamond you stole in Perth?

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Yes.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Wear it. The diamond will speak for you. You won't have to say a word. This is the key to the grift. You just trust the character. Say nothing, trust the diamond.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: I can do that. Don't tell Nate I called.

[London Bar]

Sophie: I won't.

- - - - -

bruh parker is SO HOT in that blue dress with her diamond that she stole I’m-

- - - - -

Hardison: All right. Lay the arms down, brother. He's cool.

(Eliot lets Kerrity go)

Hardison: You have to excuse my bodyguard. He's touchy. It's 'cause he's a mute.

eliot looks ready to beat hardison’s ass for a hot second

also I LOVE eliot’s little braids in his hair

- - - - -

Kerrity: What kind of thief calls himself a thief?

Hardison: An uncatchable one with a brilliant reputation. You've seen my work in Perth. The Polar Star? Nicked it. The Gem of Gibraltar? Nicked it. The Damiani raid? Distraction while I nicked everything in the vault next door. Big stones, trust me.

(behind Hardison, Parker is pacing angrily)

eliot gives her a Look™ when she looks like she’s going to interrupt hardison because he KNOWS how pissed she is

- - - - -

(Parker is at the kitchen bar, locks and picks spread out in front of her. She’s focused on picking a lock)

Eliot: Ice Man?

Hardison: Hey, I put a lot of work into that character. No, no. No, I bought new clothes, ugly as hell, too.

Eliot: This always happens when you go on the grift, Hardison.

Hardison (*): I put stories on the website.

Eliot: You go too big.

Parker: Sophie told me to say as little as possible, let the character do the work.

Nate: When did, uh, Sophie say that?

Parker: A long time ago. Maybe last Christmas. I don't even think it was Sophie.

Nate: I'm gonna go put more pressure on Kerrity. I want you guys to be on the clear-out. Ice Man, play it cool. That's just an awful, awful name.

Hardison: Genius.

Eliot: See?

Hardison: It's genius.

Eliot: When you get in too deep on this, I ain't bailin' your ass out.

Hardison: I don't need you to bail me out. I'm the Ice Man.

Eliot: Not. Gonna. Help

parker picks locks when she’s upset/annoyed/distressed and I love that continuity for her in the show

also eliot you buffoon you’ll always help hardison you’re fooling literally no one

- - - - -

Guard: There's a Mr. Sterling here from the insurance company.

LMFAO NATE YOU DIDNT

- - - - -

Eliot (on phone): I know. He's driving me crazy. How, huh? I'm backup, they can't rely on me. All right, all right. Hey, thanks. Don't tell Nate I called.

Parker: Who was that?

Eliot: Cable company

eliot is more upset than anything because he’s been put into a position where he can’t protect them as well. THATS what he’s mad enough about to call sophie about it.

also this picture meme describes the situation perfectly

- - - - -

Eliot: Whoa! Whoa! What are you people doin' here?!

Woman: We work here. Who are you?

Parker: We're with OSHA.

Eliot: We issued a class-one evacuation notice for this facility effective 24 hours ago.

Parker: This place is on lockdown for chemical exposure.

Eliot: Nobody read the memo?

Parker: Did nobody read the memo?! You, cough!

(Parker holds a pad to the woman’s mouth and she coughs into it)

Woman: What chemical?

Eliot: Given the set-up for this place, it could be a matrix of solid phase sulfates, uh, nitrates.

(Parker shows a blackened pad to the woman)

Woman: That's inside me?

Eliot: Honey, your lungs are a parking lot, sweetheart.

Parker: And in that parking lot, the diagonal lines are painted with poison.

(parker turns and looks at eliot, who shakes his head slightly in exasperation)

Eliot: People, move towards the door, all right?

Parker: Do not inhale unless you are 50 feet from the entrance. Yeah.

(all the workers leave the room)

eliot just sighing at parker’s antics is beautiful

- - - - -

Nate: All right, nice work, guys. Tomorrow, when he shows up with the diamonds, the state police will be there.

[Exterior Street]

Eliot: Why, so they can arrest Hardison's ego?

Hardison: Be cool, baby. Ice cool. Hey, who wants to go for a spin?

Eliot: Can't believe you rented a Ferrari.

Hardison: Rented?

Parker: I'll get a ride home with Eliot.

(Eliot and Parker move away and get into his truck before driving away)

Hardison: Y'all are just jealous. Oh, they just jealous, baby. Don't worry about that. Look at ya. Lookin' better than green-

okay so now we know hardison in canon owns a red ferrari convertible

- - - - -

Hardison (makes call): Yeah, yeah. Sheila, not makin' it in tonight. Yeah, work thing. Bugger all.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Hardison? Are you calling me in character?

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: I told you, butternut. It's work. I can't get out of it.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: What accent is that? Ooh. Ooh, you've been nabbed.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: Afraid so.

Sophie: Is it the mark?

Hardison: No. No, muffin, no.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: It's the goons. You oversold the part.

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: You fell into the trap of the overzealous henchman.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Don't worry. It happens all the time. As long as they're not Russians.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: It's gonna be a bit of a problem.

Sophie: It's the Russians? I'm gonna have to phone Nate.

Hardison: Uh, leave it off, crumpet.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: No, no, no, listen. Hardison—

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --you cannot talk your way out of Russians.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: I mean, you can stall them maybe for a bit, but whatever you do--

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --do not tell them you can do anything else. (hangs up)

Hardison: Smooches. Love her. (puts down phone)

- - - - -

Eliot: I had courtside seats, man. Tell Hardison if he makes it out alive, I'm gonna snap him in half.

Nate: Uh, Eliot says hi.

again, eliot, you ain’t foolin no one

- - - - -

parker sitting on the dining table,,, I love it when she perches herself on things

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a checkered/white plaid shirt with flowers on it it’s adorable

- - - - -

(Kerrity is placing a necklace on a woman’s neck)

Kerrity: Wow, that looks beautiful. Three hundred thousand dollars on your neck. (Nate knocks on the door) Oh. Amy, I'm gonna meet you at the bar, sweetie, OK? You'll earn that later. Let's go. Excellent. This had better be important.

y’all nasty

- - - - -

we love to see eliot knocking people out with one punch

+ him apologizing to the unconscious guard after

- - - - -

(Parker lays a magnetic strip over the two halves of the sensor)

Parker: This will hold them together.

Eliot (hands her a screwdriver): Electric's faster.

Parker: Vibrations will set off the seismic sensor.

(Eliot leaves the vault as Parker moves the sensors to one side and replaces them with false sensors. She then works on getting the combination)

- - - - -

Eliot buzzes Hardison in. Hardison fakes punching Eliot, who goes down. Hardison continues to fake beating Eliot up)

Eliot: Next time, I'm playing the thief.

Hardison: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Eliot: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Hardison: I went to Second City in Chicago.

(outside the Russian and his men watch Hardison beating Eliot)

[Vault]

(Parker writes the combination to the vault on the handle in what looks like invisible ink)

Eliot: When’d you find time between that and karate at the Y?

Hardison: You know what? Just shut up.

Parker: Shut up, guys

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

(Parker hangs on to the vault door as it swings shut, then jumps to an overhead pipe)

[Kerrity Diamonds]

(Eliot watches Parker move across the vault in a security monitor)

Eliot: Stuck it

this is cute okay, his proud lil face

- - - - -

hardison also carries a black light on his keychain ???

- - - - -

I’m sorry, I’m but a simple wlw and parker hanging upside down doing her thing is beautiful

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Hardison: Shh! Do you hear that? Diamond Jim's comin' down here. You go and stop him while I nick the diamonds.

(the Russian and his men turn to the vault doorway. Hardison backs away. Parker steps out of one of the larger boxes and pulls Hardison into it)

Hardison: Thank you, and I mean thank you, but how are we gettin' out of here?

(Parker pulls out some sort of electronic device)

Hardison: What is that?

Parker: Shh! Pull your arms in.

(the device beeps as Parker enters a code. After a moment, an explosion collapses the floor beneath them and they fall into the tunnels below where Eliot helps Parker to her feet)

Eliot: Det cord.

eliot helping them off the ground? domestic ot3

- - - - -

Eliot: What are you smilin' at? You still screwed it up.

Hardison: I'm smiling 'cause you said if I got in trouble, you wouldn't help me.

Eliot: Parker made me.

Parker: No, I didn't.

Hardison: Come on, man. Let's hug it out.

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out, Ice Man.

Hardison: Just hug it... Just a little man love.

(Hardison puts his arm around Eliot’s shoulders. Eliot tries to push him away)

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out with you. No...

Hardison (stands to move closer to Eliot): It’s not—

Eliot: Sit down in your stool.

Hardison: Don't make this awkward.

Eliot: What are you doin', man?

Hardison: This is uncomfortable now.

(Hardison lays his head on Eliot’s shoulder as Eliot continues to try and push him away)

Hardison: Get in the pits.

Eliot: I'm gonna break your frickin’ arm.

parker shuts eliot down immediately because eliot needs to step up for his actions

ALSO, ELIOT LEANED HIS FOREHEAD IN FOR ONE (1) SECOND. HE TOTALLY SECRETLY LOVED IT

also this meme sums up the entire episode

* sorry the script said something wrong and I don’t feel like going back to check lol