#oops. they killed someone. time to go pretend that didn’t happen!

[camping-with-monsters]

Considering what I’ve just posted is pretty vague, I wanna talk a little more about their deal. So here’s the basic gist and the beginning:

A lot of Tags of Whistlegrimm’s cast have always been mishmashes of different fairy tales. In Duck Duck Goose, I mostly stuck with one’s most are familiar with. But in Blind Man’s Bluff, my plan is to branch out a little more and include some universal representation.

Case in point, Robin, Nightingale, and Snow’s first idea came from a Native American folktale called “The Robin and The Bear”, which tells the story of a persistent robin trying to ignite a fire for a freezing tribe against a bear who keeps blowing the fire out at each turn until the Robin’s fire overpower’s the bears ability to blow out— in turn, this is how the robin got it’s red chest. The choices of how I could apply this to already existent fairy tale characters were not hard picks. The robin as Robin Hood, of course, and the bear being represented as Snow White, considering the cold winter the story took place during. Nightingale is the fire the robin continued to ignite.

Considering this disdain the robin and the bear kept against each other, Robin and Snowie were depicted as strong enemies who wanted nothing more than the other dead for reasons we may never get the full picture of. But what starts their story? How do they get forced upon each other to create the rest of the plot?

These two are ruthless, and despite what anyone may assume, are both generally unlikable people. Not the ripest of the bunch for sure, and it’s almost like these two are trying to eliminate the other to be the least likable person in Whistlegrimm! Which is… props to them? But is trying to kill the other over their differences really optimal?

The plot will be sure to say otherwise.

Against their hatred for one another and how often they find themselves going at each other’s throats, their wandering battles enter some pretty risky territory… that of royal territory, of course. You know, where you’d typically see the king. Well, they make an awful mistake that day. One of the tenders of the garden catches wind of the scene and runs in to attempt to disperse the two or otherwise figure out what the issue is and why bring it here at the kingdom. But in the process, the two are so focused on getting the upper hand that neither suspect the oncoming patron, and when they do catch up, it’s already too late to react when both attack so mercilessly and the unsuspected incomer gets mutilated in the crossfire, and dies on the scene.

Now in shock, the two realize what’s happened, and there’s no time to react before they are immediately pinned by the guards and presented to the king for their tyranny.

Lord Whimsical Whistlegrimm (yes, that is indeed his name) is skeptical of why this would be necessary. Upon allowing the two to argue, he’s quick to decipher that the death was not warranted by either, and was completely by mistake, actually aiming for the other. Lord takes some interest in this strange set of circumstances, and orders the two be locked away until he knows what his next course of action is. When presented to the warden, he makes a special request that they be in the same cellar.

Robin, Nightingale, and Snow are all pretty helpless. Their desires to kill the other seem futile as they’ll likely be beheaded for their crime anyway. They can’t bring each other to fight the other at this moment, and when Lord returns, he has… a proposition. These two are curious and he wants to see if they really value their own lives as much as they hate the other’s. Lord informs them of a concoction they can create— one they need a plethora of ingredients for that are scattered around Whistlegrimm’s Wonderlands, that is spoken to raise the dead— to revive the innocent gardener they mistakenly slayed. And if they can create the tincture, their punishments will be severely lowered if not retconned.

But considering in Whistlegrimm that actual magic is rare and a risky practice, the two are skeptical of the authenticity. But who are they to question the king? If it means living a little longer— maybe so they can actually succeed in outliving the other— who are they to refuse? They take the offering that’s given, but not without a special catch. The king provides a little bit of magic for each— magic in the form of a durable red string that wrings around the necks of the trio. If they want to be at each other’s throats so bad, than so be it. The string will only remove when their end of the deal is confirmed— and they have to be together to do it. If they get careless and one of them perishes during the journey… they’ll have to carry the weight for the rest of their lives, figuratively and literally.

Lord is asked about what his prediction will be about this. Can he be so sure they won’t come back empty handed or come back at all? Ah, Lord cannot confirm either… he almost feels bad.

So off these two go to erase their debt. But it’s not going to be simple considering the predisposed hatred they have. Protecting each other is not going to be fun when all this time they’ve known each other they’ve been actively trying to end each other. But… if this means fixing their mistakes to the kingdom, they only have one way to go— onward!

[charliedawn]

slashers(Jason,Michael and Brahms only) with beautiful undead yet friendly bride Reader who is like Emily(from Corpse Bride) and She refers them as Her "Victor" (btw,are you fan of Tim Burton? if not then that's okay)

(Here you go ! Thank you for the request and indeed, I am a big fan of Tim Burton. Hope you’ll like it 👍)

Jason Voorhees:

Jason was scared half-to-death (see what I did there ? 😂) when he saw that rotten bride just sprang out from the very earth he usually buries the bodies of his victims in. Not gonna lie, he kinda ran back to his cabin when he saw you—‘cause if his mama taught him anything ? It was that dead people don’t come back to life for no good reason. The poor boy locked himself up twice. But, it wasn’t enough to stop you. You eventually came in and started haunting him. He tried to shoo you away at first because Jason likes his loneliness, his space. Actually, he doesn’t like people in general—dead or alive. So, Jason tried everything to get rid of you. He swung his axe at you and tried to catch you or trap you, but all his efforts were fruitless. He finally gave up and let you haunt him. But, he didn’t regret it. As you are a ghost, you could guard his home and warn him of any danger nearby. It was nice having someone watching over his back for once.

…But then, you saw it.

The machete that killed you.

On his wall.

You looked back at Jason and your undead heart squeezed in your chest. Had he…? Was he the one who had killed you ? On your wedding day nonetheless ? Wasn’t he your Victor ? And if not. Who was he ?

Brahms Heelshire:

Brahms likes to play pretend. He dreamt of having that special someone he could one day propose to and have his happy ever after moment. He was thinking about it and had one of those gummy rings he had saved from his snack time. He was in the forest and had decided to have himself a little repetition for the unforeseeable future and that’s when he saw one peculiar branch that looked like a finger. He didn’t think more about it and did his little game of pretending…and when he put the ring on the finger. Well…He certainly didn’t expect some half-rotten bride to spurt out of the earth and shout:

"I DO."

But it did. That happened. And then, you wouldn’t leave him—not that he minded. Far from it. He was happy to have a wife (even though the kisses and hugs were a lil’ cold) He wondered about telling people about his…well…new ‘bride’. But, he thought better of it when he realised how lonely and sad you were. It didn’t matter that you called him Victor. Or Marvin. Or Hector. Or Derek for that matters…He would take any name if it meant you would stay and love him. And you had said ‘I do’. No takebacksies now.

Michael Myers:

Michael was confused when he first saw you sprang up from the earth. Weird. His victims usually stayed dead. He tried to stab you but…Oops. Already dead. He quickly realised that you must be like Jack Torrance—a ghost. He also understood that stabbing you would be a waste of time. He tried to ignore you, but you would then appear at random times and tell him that you were married and that he was your Victor. As Michael doesn’t speak, he couldn’t rectify you.

Hence, he became ‘Victor’ to you.

At the end, he learnt to tolerate your presence. Especially at night when he would normally sleep alone with his regrets, he would feel your hand stroking his head and your voice singing him lullabies…Maybe having a dead bride wouldn’t be that bad…?

One day, you showed him an old picture of you. He looked at it and you could see that something was bothering him. You asked him about it, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell you he remembered you. He didn’t tell you he remembered your wide frightened eyes when he plunged his knife deep into your heart the day you were supposed to marry…or the way he mercilessly beheaded your betrothed.

That was a story he would rather never share with you.

[justanotherpersonsuniverse]

DAMN CAP YOU COOKED THIS IS MASSIVE!! SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 72 OF PN BELOW BEWEAR!!

OHH SHE TOOK THE EARINGS WITH HER STEALING THEM ok i’m a fool right this makes sense. 

Girl. girl please. “You gotta trust me marinette I’m the only one you can trust” YOU WERE TRYING TO SCAM HER 

Love Fei, the dichotomy of man is so real with her

Damn brother what an intro, and then we snap back to Juleka pretending she is Batman. I hope she is at least enjoying running around on the rooftops she wanted to chapters ago

I genuinely can’t tell if girly has a concussion or not. I am one to be tricked by the narrator so since she’s saying she doesn’t i’m like “Oh ok, i trust you”

Aww cute Alya and Juleka friending it up real style, I like how Alya was begging panthera to find marinette, so real of her. 

Juleka: dont worry i actually do this super often

Alya: be concussed on a rooftop?

HA-

Yooo super soulmate tracking activated??

I still find the fact that Marinette said that they “speedran dating” to be hilarious

Fei panicking like this is her first sleepover is so silly style

AUGH NO MARINETTE IS NOT THE PERSON TO ADMIT YOU WANT TO KILL SOMEONE TO

Like i love girly but damn Fei you did not choose the right person to admit murderous intent to

Like maybe this is good for Fei to be told “hey girl that’s a bit far” but like let the girl get her emotions off her chest before invalidating them LB damn

Cash, my brother, fuck off. Fei, kick him in the balls, I command thee. 

She was being emotionally vulnerable! Let her have her moment! 

Damn brother, Cash really just hit Marinette with the fact that good people can do bad things for reasons they see as good, this will literally break her good people meter.

Panthera where be you

Ricky, ricky when I catch you ricky (me about Cash)

YES GIRL (marinette said screw you, i’m hype)

Oop- Marinette is fighting back, and now she pointed out the obvious (to us, not to Fei) 

Damn brother plot twist (which I forgor) 

Oh dear oh dear oh dear, poor Fei. Girly it’s ok he took advantage of you in a vulnerable state that’s not your fault augh I feel awful for her

NOOO HAWKCOCK RETURNS BAD TIMING FUCK OFF

Help “what’d her glove do?” his hysterical

She pointed at the little akuma resting on her finger, “Are you gonna eat that?”

“Obviously not! Are you- oh you are. Okay.” ok so. Can marinette eat akumas to purify them?

Hey did Fei just get a real concussion?? Exciting

Who are these random lesbians in my father’s ancient duty cave? I ACTUALLY LOST IT

Oh damn the prodigious have shown up this chapter! Nice. 

NAH NOT HAWKMOTH HAVING PTSD FROM PANTHERA HAAA

Sorry not many comments on this bit i’m too into it to write

Realest reaction to gaining super powers

Wha da hell the renlings are mad. I do not remember them from the shanghai special i just remembered big lion guy

Damn motherfucker this shit bangs

Fei having the time of her life is very fun, it’s also been rather novel to have so much not-Juleka POV lately! Though that tracks with how much you like Fei!

I do wonder if you’re going to have her show up outside of this arc or naw, I guess i shall wait and see >:3

Could these lesbians please focus? HELP FEI STOP BEING SILLY

Damn nobody wants her to kill Cash. except me, Kill him Fei. I demand thee. 

I mean i think it would permanently scar her, but yknow, character building gotta come from somewhere buddy

Goddamn!! That rocked. Fei kicked his ass, hell yeah. Glad she didn’t kill him though (shush i have layers)

Help the awkward after battle chat with Hawkmoth what is this

FEI HAS A POINT THIS IS WEIRD AS SHIT

Backstory?? For Cash?? Ohhhh its that fucker. Cash is the guy who- oh ok it’s all coming together

HELP THE CHAOS

YOOO LION AKUMA HELLLL YEAH

I’ve always thought his akuma was sick as fuck

HAWKMOTH DIED/??

HELP SO MUCH IS HAPPENING ROSE CALLED AND- GTVNBUREFI

Ok so my suspicion that Adrien will find out has dimmed, but the embers are still there. Maybe he’ll be vaporized. 

Yeah maybe now isn’t the time for impromptu therapy ladies

Hell yeah, Panthera for the emotional intelligence win you go girl

Oh no it went wrong, Fei running away from your problems doesn’t work this is an awful time to do that!

No because Fei literally challenges Marinnettes ideals of a good person, her black and white way of thinking about things has been a (interesting!) source of conflict throughout this but i don’t believe she has ever disagreed with someone in this way that she actually likes. Idk if this makes sense, basically what I’m saying is this could be an interesting way to develop her black and white view on good and evil

I have feelings about it all ok??

“I can’t think about this” YES YOU CAN LB

I’m curious when Juleka will use that power again, also what is it called?

HELP NO i am actually out of breath from how much i laughed at Juleka picking up the phone for Rose WHILE CLIMBING WHATS HIM NAME SHADOW OF THE COLLOSUS STYLE 

GIRL. HAVE SOME PRIORITIES. 

WAIT IWIAIT WIH3W

WHAY

WITA

JULEKA CALLED HER SUNBEAM? ISN’T THAT WHAT SHE CALLED ROSE AS PANTHERA OR AM I GOING INSANE

WAIT. ROSE HAS A CLUE NOW? I’M GOING INSANE CAP

CAP PLEASE

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THE ROSE-JULEKA REVEAL FOR YEARS

WHEN. 

Sorry i went mad

In my head when LB was flung off the big guy she pinwheeled through the air silly style

Is. is fei just flying about crying? “A mournful cry” and “red and gold streaked above them” like. As a bird i think that counts as flying about for the fuck of it and sobbing it up real style

It has been. A week maybe more. Sorry got distracted read 1.4 mill for another work got way too invested, we are so back though

And back to Fei’s POV epic crying girl montage qued

“And it was all her fault” girl please, there is a dickhead called HM and I think it’s more his fualt than yours, get over yourself

The renlings are so cool, the dialogue you had them do was mega cool cap

Dragon renling is bad ass, personally i would name them. He is now dubbed; Daniel.

Damn move over Juleka, there’s a new therapist in down, his name is Daniel the Dragon

Oh thank fuck, when Daniel said forgive i was like bitch Cash doesn’t deserve that, but forgiving herself makes so much sense. 

Not Panthera offering to fix her makeup- Juleka is so sweet girl

“We’ve got your back, Fei.” Ladybug exclaimed, “L-Like; If you need a plan, I’ve got one. I’ve got a great plan. I just need a GIANT jug- this made me lose it. What the fuck LB what would a giant jug do pray tell

YEAH DRAGON TIME

Sorry, that piece about her dad was lovely and it was awesome to read, it swept me up so i just ended up saying dragon time

Hm how does the dragon speak if it doesn’t have lips (in my head) 

No because ack what is this plan that involves a giant vase. Panthera you go girl don’t let her get eaten by another akuma, the dinosaur was enough. What will they do for Feast if not be eaten though that is the real question

Ya girly Fei just kicked kaiju ass in under 5 minutes because their timers were going off so, current MVP of the series; Fei, followed by Juleka for her metallica moment

Aww Mei Shi is adorable

He's so nice help

WHERE DID HE GO

Also wonderful break POV, that was a good line

Get his ass gang, cash is a dick

MEI SHI IS ADORABLE YAYAY AND SMALL

Fei has like 13 friends now. Is there 12 renlings or no i can’t remember

“Ooh sounds yummy.”

“You sounded a lot more professional as a robot guardian guy.”

“I was. Now I’m small and terrible.”

“Joy.” I LOVES HIM SO MUCH HE IS SO BABY!!! If only they returned to Paris with LB and Panthera, he could be friends with plagg.

Juleka now has a favor… 

Oh yeah plagg realised he could leave the ring while Juleka is transformed. That feels like an important detail. 

“OH MY GOD I HAVE PARENTS.” i love marinette. I loved this whole interaction actually, “water under the bridge, forced under the bridge” and all that was really funny

Also the fact that Adrien didn’t know your not allowed to sleep with a concussion has me concerned. 

Oh yay!! Juleka and Fei ‘therapy’ session

“That’s our everyday Ladybug!”

“AHA. YEAH. THAT SAYING. LANKS ADRIEN. I MEAN THANKS LADRIEN. THANKS. ADRIEN. AHAH.” realest reaction to that

The ending was very cosy, lots of fun :3

Finito!!!!!!! Amazing chapter Cap, ten out of ten, no a hundred out of ten is more fitting. I look forward to what comes next >:3

DANIEL I’m wheezing

I’m so glad you enjoyed bud! I’m gonna try and keep Fei in her lane for the rest of the fic or else my favoritism will show.

as for Panthera’s “special mode”, that’s called Mass Obliteration!

Plagg leaving the ring while Panthera is transformed is a marker on how much experience she’s had being Panthera.

When characters are transformed, they absorb that Kwami’s power to wear the suit. Then they expend a lots of that magic to use their powers and if they’re young and haven’t used that miraculous much- or don’t have lots of magic in general- then that magic is pretty much depleted to nothing once that power is used and their battery runs out after five minutes.

The Kwami is like the power source to the holder’s battery/charge, with the miraculous being the chord between them. Usually you need them “plugged in” aka in the miraculous at all time when the holder is transformed. However! Panthera’s gotten so used to Plagg’s essence that even if he leaves the ring for a bit, she can stay transformed as she has a bit of his magic to naturally spare. I hope that makes sense I’m babbling. Thank you to my buddy @ghostatjoes for that lore.

The base was in the original Shanghai episode. Ladybug’s plan was to get vored and break the akuma from the inside. It had organs. Mei Shi had organs. I was so disturbed, I didn’t wanna write that— and also I felt like Ladybug overhauling Fei’s fight was wrong. That was HER villain yknow. Wanted Fei to finish it all by herself.

I’m glad you enjoyed! This was def one of my favorite chapters ever to write. I think the size is an obvious indicator. I hope you guys enjoy Season 3! It’s coming I swear. I’m just writing a fun chapter before I drag you all into my hole of hell that I’ve been stewing over for years.

[mysteriousangels]

Flashback Para (Ada/Della): On my Doorstep

Ada had plenty as soon as Waylon expressed any concern about Della knowing about things. Of course, when he sidestepped her assumption about giving out information, she knew she had to be right. And the little comment about haunting her, as much fun as it would be, suddenly gave her quite the loose lips. 

Ada applied her makeup outside of the building as the sounds of gunshots calmed down. She hummed softly wondering if they could take one or two back, just to see if she could build her homunculus but that mostly depended on the fact that Della didn't shoot where all the vital organs were. But knowing how her friend operated that was exactly where she killed them. If anything, Della was precise in her work and maintained the cover and lifestyle she chose. Because it was either that or die for being a traitor, hell even more so now since had actively killed other agents. Ada knew about it all and it didn't bother her she respected that Della would go to these lengths.

Once everything had calmed down, Ada walked into the building, her steps quiet as she walked over a few dead bodies and paused at one. "He was cute, she could've kept him alive. " She patted him down and raised her brow before clearing her throat and taking his ID card out of his pocket. The building was small and remote, strictly a mid-waypoint for active undercover spies working on cases that dealt with people like Ada or Inessa. Ada sighed and pouted. "I have to throw away these heels, blood is hard to get out." She mumbled to herself. As she quietly walked through the building trying to mentally calculate where exactly Della would hide. She decided to check the fourth floor since that was a midway point and out of sheer laziness, she took the elevator. 

Riding up the elevator Ada hummed to the elevator music and leaned down to pretend like she was having a conversation with the slump dead body next to her. “Nice weather we're having huh? You know, my lethal gas killed way more people than this. But this is just so messy, totally not my style unless you/re the fucking Queen of England. Fuck that bitch, I have a poison just for her if I ever get the chance to kill that whore. Oops, lost my cool there for a moment. Well, this is my floor, nice chat. Someone should really close his eyes, like god he’s so creepy.” Ada walked out the elevator only to be met with the sound of a gunshot and excruciating pain in her thigh. “FUCKING HELL DELLA, YOU SHOT ME? IN VERSACE!” She screamed and then covered her mouth remembering where they were. A painful wail came from her as she fell to the ground trying to focus on anything other than the pain, she was in.

When Ada screamed at her Della came out of her hiding place and looked at Ada in shock before running over to the girl and immediately started to try and do first aid. “Shit shit shit. Ada what the hell are you doing here, I thought you were another agent?!” Della said as she quickly took out the bullet in Ada’s leg and applied pressure to stop the bleeding. At the time she didn’t even remember that she had coated the bullets with poison. Ada let out a muffled scream as Della got the bullet out and glared at Della.

“I came because Waylon is a dumbass and from what I assume accidentally helped Sadie expose your sister’s whole team. He wanted you to know that he’s dumb and thinks with his dick when it comes to attractive people younger than him.” Ada embellished a bit and flinched as Della bandaged her up too tight for her liking.” I want to keep my limbs, Della.”

“Violet got exposed because of Sadie. I’m not surprised this was the outcome. You could tell Sadie was a bit off her rocker, but it is what it is now. Even if I was around, she wouldn’t have listened to me, but I am still upset about what happened. In fact, I’m livid at everyone involved in that cluster fuck of a problem but I have no right to get involve or voice that anger at Violet and them.” Della said on a deathly calm voice, it was voice of any real emotion. Della was taking in the news, and she knew how she what she was saying was her feelings, but they weren’t her current feelings since she couldn’t actually process anything right now. After bandaging Ada up. she stood and held a handout to Ada. “You’re so smart but so dumb, you should have sent Inessa.”

“Inessa got herself locked into a magical legal contract that she can’t break. Although I’m not sure she wants to break it since it means she gets to spend time with mermen and octopans.” Ada took Della’s hand and stood up, she stumbles slightly but took no notice of it since she just assumed it was from the fact that she had just gotten shot. “Buy me an expensive fugu dinner and I’ll call it even. Also, that way we can say you didn’t kill me if I die.” Ada joked and Della rolled her eyes.  They left the building together after Della finished doing a thorough check of the building, but as they were walking Ada gasped in pain and fell to the ground as her vision stared to blur. For a moment, she was confused and couldn’t think, then she remembered a few years ago after the first fire Della coming into her room. They had talked and Ada told her about the poison she had made for the Queen and Della asked if she could use it for traitors to the circus. Of course, Ada said no, but she would make a similar version that had an antidote. Damn her own hatred for the Queen had come to bite her in the butt, but she couldn’t help but be proud because she was certainly wishing for a swift death instead of the pain she was in now.

When Ada fell Della got concerned all over again and checked Ada pulse and forehead. She didn’t understand what was happening until she saw Ada mouth poison. Fuck. She had totally forgot. She carefully picked up Ada and put her on her back sending Waylon a quick text. She was mentally calming herself down trying to keep herself from getting overwhelmed with everything that was happening right now. It was all too much, she was only 22 and everything she had ran from 5 years ago was all landing at her doorstep and bombarding her with a life and obligations she didn’t want.

[yusuke-of-valla]

Vampire Returner <3

Ichika gets adopted by the Aoyagis! Most vampires are born vampires, no “biting and then oops vamp time.” For someone to be turned a vampire they have to have some vampire ancestry, and then they have to drink a vampire’s blood, and also they have a tendency to go out of control sicko monster mode so the policy is to kill a turned vampire on sight. Ichika’s great great grandfather was stripped of his title for falling in love with a human, and then she got kidnapped and turned into a vampire and escapes by murdering her captors and then the Aoyagis do not kill her because she’s baby so they pretend she’s Toya’s sickly twin sister.

In the original timeline where everyone died, Rui and Tsukasa had a little courtship thing where they met in the library but Rui didn’t reveal who he was so he and Tsukasa fell in love and then he revealed himself and it was very cute. When they go back in time Rui gets too excited so introduces himself immediately and Tsukasa is like “I do not know why the Mad Prince is talking to me??” And gets freaked out and Rui’s very sad about this

Each of the four major duchys of the kingdom had like, a Thing because when I was coming up with this Roxana had just come back on Tapas and the Asahinas are officially “The Duchy Of Scholars” but they’re mostly spies and assassins these days and Mafuyu’s next in line while Kanade is her maid. The final test to become head of the family is to murder someone you care about who is framed for committing a crime to prove you won’t let your emotions get in the way so Mafuyu’s mom is fully intending to have Mafuyu kill Kanade and Mafuyu doesn’t know this!

Speaking of murder! Ok so Again Roxana had just come back and I was like “someone has to be forced to murder their siblings in a contest to become heirs” and Rui ended up on the chopping block except he never actually killed anyone, he was considered kinda at the bottom of the rung because he was a weirdo studying alchemy and then a plague happened and all his remaining siblings died and peopel think he poisoned all of them so that’s where The Mad Prince thing came from

Akito and Ena are fairy royalty and they don’t know because they were kidnapped as kids and got amnesia! The fairy kingdom and the Vampire kingdom have so much. Beef. And they like just ended a stupid long war and tensions are weird and when their dad was like “hey I think someone illegally crossed the border and kidnapped my kids?” and Rui’s dad was like “oh fuck you you’re trying to create a false pretense to invade again” “literally I’m not I would like to find my kids?!” “If a fairy is found in our borders it’s fucking on sight” Rui’s dad sucks is the thing here. He’s not in the game enough for me to consider it ooc to make him suck.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

(I typed this up a few days ago but then I fell ill like a Victorian Child so I am only now getting around to replying to you)

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

Sunny: I always say that fanfics are there waiting for you when you have time, and I always believe that my fanfics are there for people to enjoy whenever they want to (including if that means reading them and enjoying them years later). So this one waited for you <3 

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

Sunny: if there is one thing we know, it’s that tumblr is disgustingly broken and glitchy 

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

Sunny: this actually made me snort laughing omg. I can’t help but imagining Y/N literally saying as she gets out of bed to put her clothes on, like she’s so mad that Harry interrupted her and Harry just doesn’t get it 

Star: "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)

Sunny: okay this is actually SO INTERESTING TO ME. Because I have mentioned hunting and killing animals for food in several of my stories (especially apocalyptic ones) - and I always think of this one distinct memory from when I was younger. I grew up in the city and I was the type of person where, when I found out a hamburger was made out of a cow, I was freaked out about it and I was just like “I don’t want to think about it because burgers taste good” - but when I was eleven, I moved into a very middle of nowhere backwoods town where my mom grew up, and my grandmother is very used to the hunting and trapping lifestyle, very much ‘you only eat meat if it’s super fresh because someone just killed it’ - and one day I came home from school and there was a dead rabbit in the sink because she was going to make rabbit soup for dinner. And I just stared at it for a long time. And at first I was freaked out, because I think rabbits are cute, and it was still covered in its fur, and it still had all of its features - but it just very suddenly occurred to me that I couldn’t change the fact that the rabbit was dead. So if it died for you - you might as well eat it. So since I was really young it has always been my mindset that even though animals are cute, sometimes they need to die in order for people to eat - and that is definitely something I carry through into my fics 

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

Sunny: this is SO FUNNY TO ME. I didn’t even think about that. “This must be a luxuriously large space for you, CUPBOARD BOY” 

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

Sunny: it’s funny cause when I was writing it I did kind of forget what we were doing lmao. And I wrote this line to put myself back on track!! 

Star: "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

Sunny: omg this is so wild. I mean I was a ‘sets things on fire’ kid too (again, see the fact that I used to live in the middle of nowhere and there was nothing to do) - but at least I’m not trying to be a psychologist lmao 

Star: "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

Sunny: Ron would be the exact type of person to do this though. When he grew up, his mother showed love through food - when she met Harry, her very first instinct was to FEED HIM because he’s a sad skinny boy, and when Ron is sad and there’s not enough food to go around, he will starve and let others have more (even if it’s not THAT MUCH more) because that’s how his mother taught him to show caring 

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

Sunny: YES she is such a psycho and I love her so much 

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

Sunny: I am so glad you love the drama omg. I had so much fun writing that scene. Writing their argument from scratch instead of following the one in the book or the movie was actually the most fun I’ve had in a while lmao 

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

Sunny: they ARE all idiots and that’s why it works so well 

Star: "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 👀

Sunny: the reason the dynamic works is because she has the ‘shut up and listen to me because I can make you cum’ aspect of it. And it works so well <3 

Star: "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

Sunny: Ron is such an angry and sometimes bitterly negative character, and this is how he should take it out. Nobody should get hurt. This is right 

Star: "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

Sunny: this is one of the FUNNIEST THINGS YOU’VE EVER SAID omg 

Star: "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)

Sunny: okay but that is literally the perfect description for Hermione and Ron and I LOVE IT. They are ride or die, but sometimes they can’t stand each other. And it’s perfect 

Star: "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

Sunny: Ron knows Hermione is a psycho and he is intimidated by that. Rightfully so 

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

Sunny: again, this made me snort laugh omg 

Star: "'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 

Sunny: I am here to provide for the people xoxoxo 

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

Sunny: you know it had to be Hermione’s idea. She has the braincell 

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

Sunny: this was one of my favourite things to write lmao 

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

Sunny: AND THIS WAS ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS TO READ LMAO

Star: “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

Sunny: tbh I agree. Big cock jokes are way funnier than they need to be 

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

Sunny: Ron agrees with you, clearly 

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

Sunny: but see that’s what I love about this version of Hermione. She’s such a goody two shoes that even if someone tried to tell people she was a whore, nobody would believe them 

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

Sunny: the best part is, you know Harry and Hermione aren’t gonna stop making comments like this now. They’re gonna say he’s mentally slow cause all of his brains are in his cock, etc. like they’re not gonna stop nagging him about it (and then he’s gonna be teasing them back when he’s fucking them with that big cock - it’s a two way street)

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!

[prettybillycore]

Please Don't Die Again || Connor (RK800) x GN!Reader

Pairing(s): Connor (RK800) x GN!Reader ; Minor Elijah Kamski x GN!Reader

Universe: Detroit: Become Human

Summary: You, a former employee at Cyberlife, now work as a Detective along side Hank and Connor. As the android revolution begins, Connor finds himself faced with a choice– his mission or you. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, yandere!Elijah Kamski, Gun violence, Connor (rk800) temporary death

A/N: Ahhh! My first non-stranger things request this summer; I have so much love in my heart for Deviant!Connor. I decided to follow the advice of @whoringrove and work on whatever my brain was most drawn to. Right now, I’m working on the second chapter of “Stranger Things Have Happened in Hawkins” but because it takes place in ST3 canon ‘verse, I really need to rewatch the whole season before finishing it. I’m itching to create right now, not watch something, so oop here’s an rk800 x reader fic. I hope you enjoy @momos-peaches <3

Read it on AO3 or right here on Tumblr (below the cut on this post)

You knew Connor could die and be placed inside of a new body– Hank told you about the one time he was killed before; he was hit by a car going down the freeway. However, you were not there to witness that death. You had never personally seen Connor die and you most certainly weren’t the cause. This was not the freeway incident though, this was the battle for android freedom in Detroit. 

You were once on the side of the city, protecting humans at all costs. Now, you were at the center of the android revolution– and Connor’s blue blood was on your hands. 

| < ♥️ > |

You were born into a well-off family and your mother worked in the technology industry. You grew up with Elijah Kamski as your best friend and worked with him for the first several years of your adult life. You were the creative mind behind a lot of the aesthetic choices– clothes, facial structures, etc. There was enjoyment and pride in your work at first, but you watched Elijah turn into a shell of his fun-loving self. He became more arrogant and honestly an ass to be around. You kept him within your social circle because you couldn’t bear to lose someone so close to you, but you didn’t agree with the treatment of his android companions. You weren’t as technologically gifted as him, but you helped him create the first androids. You wanted them to be treated with respect and kindness– Elijah saw them as nothing more than machines. He tormented you for it and you ended up leaving your very high-paying job at Cyberlife before he left his. You went back to school and ended up joining the police force as a detective– he retired to a mansion in the middle of nowhere. He invited you over often, but you started accepting fewer invitations as you started working more hours. 

Hank Anderson worked at the desk across from yours. You had very different views on androids, but he was a gentle soul to you. He valued your opinions on his cases highly and often requested to work with you over other detectives. It warmed your heart and gave you a father figure you could actually reach out to. This is how you met RK800, better known as “Connor.” 

He was far more advanced than any of the androids you worked on and his physical appearance wasn’t your design. You guessed that he was made by the team that replaced yours and you were honestly amazed by his existence. His data analysis software was incredible and he was extremely skilled in crime scene investigation. You knew the moment that you met him at the Ortiz house, you knew he was special. 

| < ♥️ > |

You were already inside the house when he entered behind Hank. You smiled at the two of them as they came inside. You stood up from your place over the body, “Ah, Lieutenant Anderson, I thought you might never come.”

He rolled his eyes as he approached. Connor was matching his pace. You eyed him curiously, but pretended not to notice him– as much as you could, anyway. Though, you are sure Connor noticed your glances. “I wasn’t gonna come, but this jackass showed up at Jimmy’s bar and said you were working this one alone. Thought you might want a hand.”

“Extra hands are always welcome at my crime scenes; we could use all the help we can get to be honest with you. Household androids are becoming more unstable every day… I just don’t understand why. Take a look at the scene in the kitchen, Lieutenant; something awful.”

“Can do,” he replied shortly before walking past you.

Your eyes fell on Connor, who was standing stiffly a few feet from you. “I would shake your hands, but I’m gloved and have blood on me… what’s your name?”

“My name is Connor. I’m the android sent by Cyberlife to assist Lieutenant Anderson with the rise in deviant cases.” His answer was stark and to the point, but there was something behind the inflection of his voice. You could feel his gaze; it was dull and unwavering. 

“I’m guessing you already know who I am based on what Hank said.”

He nodded curtly. “Y/n L/n. Current Detective at Detroit Police Department and former Creative Director of Cyberlife.”

You smiled again. “Indeed, it’s nice to meet you, Connor.”

| < ♥️ > |

The next two days were some of the most action-packed and traumatic days of your life. You protected Connor from Gavin’s android hatred, searched the Eden Club, and witness an unmasked android give a freedom speech on national television– not to mention all the cases that were piling up of deviants committing felonies. You felt protective of Connor at this point and he felt protective of you, though he didn’t understand why he felt that way. Hank was still a little skeptical of Connor as you approached your childhood friend’s home, but you had no doubts in your mind– Connor wasn’t just human-like, he was human. Much like many of the androids you were trying to track down/stop, he showed bright, shining signs of humanity. It made you incredibly nervous to take him with you to Elijah’s. It made you so nervous, in fact, you asked him to do something very unlike you.

Hank stopped the car outside of the Kamski residence. Connor was in the back seat and started to open his door before you squeaked out, “Connor, stay here.”

“What?” Hank questioned. 

Connor pulled the door shut again, but kept his hand on the handle. “Why, Detective?”

“Uh…” you faltered. You felt silly saying it, but you were sincerely worried for Connor’s safety in Elijah’s presence. As much as you hated it, the man could read you like an open book. He would know that you cared for Connor and would do everything he could to use that connection to his advantage. “Kamski will try to turn me against you, I just know.”

“Oh come on, Y/n. You’re not going to turn your back on me and Connor. We’ll all be fine,” Hank assured.

“I would feel much better about this visit if Connor were to stay in the car. He is safe in the car,” You argued.

Hank rolled his eyes. “If anything happens to him, as much as I hate it, Cyberlife will fix him and he’ll be back on the job tomorrow.”

“I appreciate the concern Detective, but Lieutenant Anderson is right. I am replaceable.”

Hearing those words absolutely shattered your heart. “Connor…”

Hank patted your shoulder. “Come on, kid. He’ll be fine. Let’s go get this over with. I know you hate this fucker as much as I do.”

| < ♥️ > |

Elijah had his eyes on you from the moment you walked into the swimming pool room. There were quite a few Chloe models present, which did not surprise you. She was the first model to pass the Turing test and you had designed her (aesthetically speaking). Elijah had little touches of your relationship all over his house– your painting in the entryway, a few drawings of yours on the walls, even a picture of you two as kids in a frame on a table near the window, and of course Chloe. Though he was taking his sweet time getting out of the pool, he was keeping a close eye on you. You weren’t the only one to notice these details though– they were noticed by Connor and Hank both. The feeling of his eyes on you made your skin crawl as he climbed out of the pool. “I was surprised to see your name on my schedule, Y/n, but I am oh so happy to see you again. What’s it been? Six months?”

You did your best not to falter at his words, but his tone sent a chill up your spine. “I’ve been busy with my work at DPD. You know that, Elijah.” You used his first name on purpose; you were hoping it would throw him off his game. When you worked together at Cyberlife, you fell into the habit of calling him Kamski; everyone else did, so when you called him by his first name, it usually knocked the snark out of him. “These are my friends; Lieutenant Anderson and Connor.”

“What can I do for you, Y/n? Lieutenant?” He asked, only addressing you and Hank. It was annoying you slightly that he was being so informal with you, but at the end of the day, you couldn’t blame him. You two had such a long history it would be sort of unsettling for him to call you ‘detective’, though you despised him calling you just by your first name. It gave you a feeling of disgust in the deepest pit of your stomach. 

You could see the weary look on Hank’s face. It wasn’t surprising– he was fairly protective over you. What was a little surprising was the fact that Connor’s LED was circling yellow to red and back again. Your words felt like they were trapped in your throat, so Hank picked up the conversation. “Sir, we’re investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago but, I was hoping you'd be able to tell us something we don’t know…”

Kamski smirked, “Deviants… Fascinating, aren't they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will… Machines are so superior to us, confrontation was inevitable… Humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall. Isn’t it ironic?”

“We need to understand how androids become deviants. Do you know anything that could help us?” Connor questioned. Elijah’s strong gaze shifted to him for a moment. Then, it shifted between the two of you. You had a bad feeling before you walked inside the house, but it was getting stronger with every passing second that you all were inside. You shifted slightly, placing yourself vaguely in front of Connor. Your eyes met Elijah’s and you could see him deeply contemplating his next move. 

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics... Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?”

Hank was becoming impatient with the conversation. You could see it plainly on his face and in his body language. “Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that'll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Elijah began to step closer to you and Connor. You tilted your head while shooting your former best friend a questioning look. You knew that he was paying attention to you, but he didn’t acknowledge you at all. He kept his eyes trained on your android companion, while his fingers twitched at his sides. “What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

You looked away from Elijah and toward Connor. He was looking back at you, but only for a brief moment. The light on his temple was still flicking between yellow and red as he looked toward Elijah, “It's not about me, Mr. Kamski. All I want is to solve this case.”

Elijah chuckled a bit, pulling his lip with his teeth. “Well, that's what you're programmed to say… but you…” He was getting uncomfortably close to both you and Connor. He angled himself so he was off to the side a little bit, away from you, but he was still less than a foot away now. His glance came toward you for a moment before going back to Connor, “What do you really want?”

Your eyes were glued to Elijah. You, Hank, and Connor were all weaponless because that was an agreement of the meeting, but you were still trying to calculate the best way to incapacitate him if things went south. Connor, again, glanced in your direction, but you didn’t notice this time. Elijah and Hank both did though. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see where you're getting at,” he replied. His defensive tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, though.

“Y/n, would you mind stepping over to stand next to Chloe?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“I would like to run a little test on your android and you’re blocking my way.”

You knew exactly what test he meant. There was nothing else he could mean with that evil little glimmer in his eye, “No way in hell you’re doing to that to him. I won’t let you.”

He had a curious expression on his face. He had completely turned his attention to you. His hand came to rest on your upper arm as he answered. “Interesting. You’re so protective of a machine, I mean, you always have been rather fond of androids, but that adorable angry look on your face– oh you care about it, don’t you, Angel?” 

You nearly gagged at the nickname. You knew he had feelings for you somewhere in your past, but he hadn’t called you ‘angel’ since you were in your early twenties. He stopped after you rejected him. It’s probably where the bitterness in your relationship started. God, you felt like you were going to be sick. Hank was in shock behind you and didn’t know how to intervene; Connor felt like he was frozen in place. His orders were telling him to focus on the mission, but the thought “protect y/n” was trying to force itself to become his primary directive. Elijah took the opportunity to place his free hand under your chin. His fingers dug into your skin. “What? Did I hit a nerve, detective?” That smirk planted itself on his face again. “Chloe, get the device.” His eyes never left yours. Your brain was screaming at you to rip yourself from his grasp, but you couldn’t get your feet to move. His hand moved from your chin to your other arm. He forced you out of the way as Chloe pulled a gun out of the table drawer. He almost threw you out of the way he used so much force. You stumbled into the chair next to the table and sucked in a harsh breath. Connor’s LED was completely red, but he was still unable to pick a directive. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test. Mere formality, simple question of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it "the Kamski test", it's very simple, you'll see…” He turned to Chloe, an almost hungry look in his eyes as he took the gun from her hands. “Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife, completely designed by Y/n and myself. Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither……But what is it really? Piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being... With a soul…?” Elijah handed the gun to Connor. “It's up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor. Destroy this machine and I'll tell you all I know. Or spare it, if you feel it's alive, but you'll leave here without having learned anything from me.”

Hank found his voice again after seeing the fear in your eyes. “Okay, I think we’re done here. Come on, Connor. Let's go. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

Elijah was getting more and more in Connor’s face. “What's more important to you, Connor? Your investigation, or the life of this android? Decide who you are. An obedient machine… Or a living being endowed with free will…”

“That's enough! Connor, Y/n, we’re leaving.”

“Pull the trigger,” Elijah taunted. It was like watching the angel and devil on Connor’s shoulders. He looked to you for an answer. Elijah had aimed the gun at Chloe and for Connor, it would be just one quick motion, but… 

“Connor, don’t…” Hank said.

Connor was searching your face for an answer. “Please no…” you mumbled. 

“I'll tell you what you wanna know,” Elijah mumbled.

Connor lowered the gun and could feel himself destabilizing. Elijah sighed and moved away from Connor. He walked back over the table and opened the drawer again. Before you could process what was happening, he yanked you to your feet and had his hand around your neck. You could feel him closing his fingers tightly enough to start cutting off your oxygen. You grabbed at his hand for a moment, before you felt the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against your temple. Your breath was gone from your lungs. You never would have seen this coming. “Eli–” You couldn’t get his whole name out. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Kamski?” Hank shouted. All of the Chloe models that were still in the pool had begun to watch. 

“Fascinating… CyberLife's last chance to save humanity... is itself a deviant…” Elijah mused. “I have another test for you, Connor. We’ll call it the Y/n test.” He relaxed his fingers slightly so you could breathe again. “You, a piece of plastic, have somehow managed to capture Y/n’s attention.” He rubbed his thumb across your chin so softly it almost felt like a comforting gesture. “I could have given them everything. A mansion, wealth beyond anything they have ever seen, they never would have had to work a day in their whole life, but they turned me down. They left Cyberlife and eventually became a detective. Ever since they joined DPD they’ve been slipping farther and farther away. I can’t even get them to come over for a meal anymore, but you… in a few days, they have become completely enamored with you.” His hands were trembling with anger. He began constricting your air again. “This test should be easy for you Connor; shoot the Chloe model and I will let Y/n go, unharmed. You three will walk out of here with no information, but the detective will be fine and Chloe will be replaced. If you refuse to shoot Chloe, I’ll shoot your favorite human, but I will tell you everything I know. Are you willing to sacrifice the life of this human for your mission? Someone’s going to die, Connor. It’s up to you to decide.” Elijah clicked the safety off. 

Connor looked between you, Chloe, and Hank. You had been in danger before with your job, but this was the closest you had ever come to death. Connor could read the terror in your expression. Hank was scared too. Connor had never seen Hank truly scared before. “Kamski–”

“Quiet! This is Connor’s choice.”

Connor closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. Chloe shut down almost instantly and Elijah dropped his gun on the ground next to him. He let go of your throat and Connor rushed forward to catch you. You pulled in as many deep breaths as you could. Connor’s sensors scanned your injuries and determined quickly, that while extremely distressed, that you were relatively unharmed. Without saying anything, he wrapped his arm under your knees and behind your back. “Let’s go, quickly Lieutenant.”

Hank didn’t argue and neither did Elijah. Connor nearly ran to the car with you in his arms, jumping into the back of the vehicle with you. “Y/n? Are you alright, Y/n?” You nodded as you started to catch your breath. Hank got into the driver’s seat and started down the road as quickly as he could. “What’s their status, Connor?”

“Stable, but we should have them seen by a doctor to make sure Kamski didn’t cause any serious damage.”

“Guys… I’ll be fine.”

“Shut up, Y/n. If Connor says you should see a doctor, we’re stopping at a doctor.”

| < ♥️ > |

Connor had no idea that you had tailed him to Jericho. You were so careful not to let him see you. You followed him all the way up to Markus and North in the Captain’s cabin. North had a gun, but from what you could tell, it was jammed.  “What are you doing? You are one of us… You can’t betray your own people…”

You had met Markus before; he was one of your designs. You never imagined that he would end up being RA9, but knowing Carl, it made sense. Carl treated Markus as another son and gave him freedoms that many other androids did not have. “You're coming with me!”

“You're nothing to them. You're just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you're more than that. We are all more than that… Do you never have any doubts? You’ve never done something irrational, as if there's something inside you?.. Something more than your program.”

You couldn’t tell what Connor or North was thinking so you decided it was best to intervene before something went wrong. “Connor!” you called. His head snapped in your direction before he started looking at North and Markus again. 

“What are you doing here, Detective? How did you find me?”

“Connor, put the gun down. Markus is good, I promise. We’ve met before.”

“I don’t believe my eyes,” Markus said. “Y/n L/n. You designed me for Carl.”

You tossed him a soft smile. “Hello again, Markus.” You walked around Connor’s side and walked in front of his gun. 

“Y/n don’t–”

“You don’t have to do this, Connor. You have done something irrational. There is something more than your program, just like Markus said. You had no idea if Elijah would have gone through with his threat. You could have followed orders and let me die. You could have learned whatever you wanted about deviants from him, but you didn’t– you saved me because you care about me, Connor. I know you do! Put the gun down and we can talk about this. I know Cyberlife is telling you that Markus is the enemy, but he’s not and you know that he’s not.”

Connor lowered the gun to his side, but he didn’t drop it. You stepped to the side where he was holding it and set your hand on his. You were going to continue talking him down, but a loud bang came from behind you and the next thing you knew, Connor had blue blood dripping from a bullet wound– right between his eyes. Markus shouted at North and you screamed bloody murder as he collapsed. “Fuck! FUCK, CONNOR! Don’t you fucking leave me here…”

| < ♥️ > |

Life was not going so well for anyone around you at this point. You were at Hank’s house; your head in your hands as you sat on the couch. Sumo was whining for you to cheer up, but you couldn’t. Connor’s death was just replaying in your mind on repeat. Hank was in the kitchen and not doing much better than you. The both of you were so out of it, that you didn’t hear the bedroom window being open and shut. “Lieutenant!” Connor shouted. “Lieutenant it’s me! I need your help!”

You shot up from the couch and Hank bolted in from the kitchen. “Connor? How–”

“Cyberlife will always replace me. I’ve found Markus and the others. He’s shown me what I can really be, I… I’m deviant. I offered to go to Cyberlife to gather more androids for the war, but… I’m scared and I need help. I wanted to see you, Y/n, but I was afraid of that too.”

“Fuck…” You used your hands to wipe the fresh tears from your eyes. “Connor… I… you died in my arms. I watched you fucking die right in front of me… You can’t do that shit…”

“Y/n… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it! It’s not your fault anyway… North shot you because she thought you would kill her and Markus. I’m glad your back, but it’s so fucking weird. It’s messing with my brain…”

Connor slowly started to walk around the couch. “Can I do anything?”

“You… Please don’t die again! I can’t do that again. Your blood was everywhere and I felt so fucking helpless. Markus just kept apologizing and I didn’t know what to do. We had to leave your body and run because soldiers started attacking Jericho. I felt so bad, but I couldn’t carry you out, I–” 

Connor reached out and set his hand on you shoulder. “It’s alright now, Y/n. I know how much my death upset Hank and I can see it hurt you. I will do everything I can not to die again.”

The softness of his voice and his simple touch did you in completely. You rushed forward and wrapped your arms around him. “You better not die again, I need you here.”

[beann-e]

Haikyu Characters Reacting To Their S/O Screaming Back At Them

Aoba Johsai

Read Part Two Here

kyotani Kentaro

-everyone knows kyotani for his anger and how he doesn’t suck up to people so when they found out he was dating someone they had to assume this someone had the ability to put him in his place and right now that’s just what they needed

“ mad dog-chan you can’t do this not right now“ oikawas voice rang through in annoyance

“ yeah we need you to go in “ iwazumis voice sounded tired as if he was exhausted by trying to convince the boy for the past 5 minutes during their halftime (long timeout)

kyotani grunted as he turned from both of his teammates looking to the wall as he sat on the bench

“ coach seriously — we need him and he’s just on the bench doing nothing “

“ he said he’s tired of you guys only calling him in for 5 minutes and then sitting him back out like an animal— that you use to show off and then send outside when company’s gone “

“ well he’s our secret weapon “ oikawa screamed “ that’s literally what you do “

kyotani grumbled as he rolled his eyes at oikawa who huffed as he moved to turn to the bleachers “ oh forget this he’s not even listening to iwa-chan “

“ well you know what to do flatty-kawa “

“ duh you see i’m doing it iwa-chan”

oikawas hand came up in a wave as he moved to the referee whispering to them as they spoke on the speaker their voices crisp sending a chill through kyotani’s spine

“ we need a y/n l/n to come down to Aoba Johsais Bench — A y/n L/n to come down to Aoba Johsais bench “

you stood up smiling widely as you jumped your way through the crowd voice heaven sent as you screamed “ that’s me “

moving through people talking sweetly “ oops — sorry — sorry have to go take care of a loose hothead—whoops—you should really watch where you place that drink “

you hopped down the stairs waving at the team and the referee as you came to a stop in front of kyotani who was even more mad than he was initially

“ babe whats up why are they calling me down here again “ you sighed “ it’s only happened five other times and I thought we got past it “

“ they say that like it’s nothing “ kindaichis voice came out small as he rubbed the back of his head

“ kyotani “ you called confused usually he would answer you by now and comply and go play for a little while just to make you happy so you could go sit down on the bench to watch his game closely

“ uh somethings wrong iwa-chan “

“ yeah somethings off he’s not responding to her this time “

“ kyo what— “

“ if anything he looks like he’s gonna snap “

oikawa laughed at his comment “ yeah right y/n ‘ s too nice he’d feel horrible if he snapped at ‘em —they’d probably cry he wouldn’t do it “

oikawas face dropped as he heard the loud voice ring out inside the gym “ GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME“

you shuddered at his voice “ your even more fucking annoying than that dumbass over there “

your mouth dropped “ all you do is come down here and bother me everytime and I only go in for you — i’m not doing it this time i’m gonna stand my ground”

he screamed “ they use me for those 5 minutes and then toss me out i’m not doing it — like I said i’m sitting right here on this bench and standing my fucking ground “

your face went up in shock as you felt your body flinch at his voice kyotani and the rest of his team immediately feeling bad at what the whole gym just witnessed everyone listening closely feeling sorry for you

Oikawa moved to glare at kyotani as he walked over to wrap his arms around you “ aw y/n-chan it’s ok to cr— “

“ YOU SCREAM AT ME ONE MORE TIME LIKE THAT AND IM GONNA KNOCK YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF WITH THE BAT MY DAD WACKS INTRUDERS AT HIS STORE WITH “ your screams came out louder than his as you stared down at the boy in front of you

“ I don’t care if you go out there and wipe the floor down with fucking towels or scrape it clean with a toothbrush but your going out on that court kentaro“

your voice was stern “ you better be glad they even give you 2 seconds on that court you love so much with your shitty attitude —if it was me i’d make you a bench rider the whole season while you watch shittykawa smirk at you everytime he goes up for a set that you won’t get “ your screams catching the whole gym off gaurd

“ so your gonna go out there and stand your fucking ground on that court “ you mocked him hand pointing from him to the court

Kyotani’s body shaking at your tone “ kentaro “ you spoke his name like a curse as he jolted and race to stand in his position on the court head never turning back to look at you again as you continued

“ You will score everytime you go up for that ball — everytime you hit something or come in contact with it— I want a point on that board do you hear me“

“ yes “

“ kentaro “

“ yes ma’am “

you moved to fix your clothes as you stared at everyone in the crowd “ everytime my boyfriends feet leave that ground you better clap your asses off do you hear me “

everyone shook their heads in a yes motion afraid of you and how such a big yell could come from such a small person

You smiled at the team before you took your seat on the bench near the coach who read off all his plans for kyotani that hed never listened to

“ oh trust me we’ll do that plan “ you said as you shook your head ignoring all the whispers from the males around you

“ do they know the game doesn’t start back up again until 5 minutes from now “ mattsukawas voice came out in concern

“ I —uh I don’t think they care “

“ oikawa what’s wrong with you “ iwazumi turned to see oikawas face made up in a frown as he sulked

“ pretty y/n-chan called me your stupid nickname “

oikawa

-oikawa never liked losing especially when it was to someone younger than him someone he didn’t like so you can imagine his anger when he lost to Karasuno

-no one expected the hallway to erupt in his screams so soon

“ tooru what’s wrong “

“ i’m just a little tired y/n i’m ok “

“ no but you — you look angry “

he took a deep breath as he shook his head in annoyance moving to walk off you standing in front of him stopping his exit

“ ok then if I look angry why the fuck would you stand in front of me “

“ because I “

“ because your fucking annoying that’s what it is “

“ tooru”

“ no don’t baby me y/n I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me I played good and I was amazing obviously I wasn’t if your standing here talking to me in a hallway and not in front of me while I celebrate on the court “

“ it’s ok baby — you can still win a volleyball nat— “

he lost his cool as he screamed looking down on you “ WHEN Y/N WHEN HUH “

he screamed harshly “ it’s over — are you fucking stupid there is no next time shitty kageyama took it there’s no next time for me — fuck we’re— we’re third years “

his voice sounded bloody by his screams that sounded throughout the hallway his team coming in to check and see if everything was ok receiving their answer when they turned the corner to you taking over

“ if I knew you were so fucking stupid I wouldn’t have dated you you were probably the bad luck charm that made me lose my shitty gam—“

“ the only thing that made you lose this game was you asshole “

your voice was laced with venom as you shot at him screaming constantly “ you and your shitty need to keep working endlessly maybe if you didn’t have a hurt knee — oh wait howd you get that “

you pretended to think “ oh I know FROM OVERWORKING YOURSELF “

you pushed a finger to his chest “ when I say your gonna make it to a nationals someday your gonna make it to a nationals someday you don’t doubt me is that clear “

his face was in fear as his mouth opened wide in a o form unable to process an answer

“ is that clear tooru oikawa “ you screamed

the team letting out yes’s for him as he moved to look back at them before he turned to you shaking his head like a puppy whod accidentally peed in the house

“ I need words “

“ y-fuck y—yes y/n — baby I mean ma’am — shit I mean yes baby “

you moved to stand straight as you cracked your neck and let a smile play on your face as you turned away from him walking to the entrance of the gym “ ok — babe I meant to tell you i’m gonna go say good game to kageyama- kun you go to the busses and make them wait for me ok “ you waved at him as you opened the door “ love you “

“ they wouldn’t dare leave ‘em “ kyotani’s voice came out in a laugh

“ fuck leaving them — theyd let ‘em drive“ hanamaki joked with mattsukawa who was screaming in laughter

your body entering the gym and walking over to kageyama who straightened up turning to speak to hinata who stood in fear

“ you speak nothing of what we heard to y/n-senpai“

“ y-yes ka-kageyama “

“ kageyama-kun youve grown up so much I love it“ you said holding your arms out to him speaking like he was a baby

“ h-hi y/n-senpai “

“ DID YOU KILL THE GREAT KING “

[pure-kirarin]

My dear princess that I love with my entire heart, let me give you a situation :

How would OP characters react if they did something embarrassing but they spot their s/o in the corner of their eyes trying (but falling) to hide how cute they think it is ? (Hope my question was clear 😂)

Love you babe 💕

My angeel whom i love with my entire being hehe. Let's imagine what OP characters would do in such a situation!

-Getting caught by their S/O while doing something embarrassing

-

Law :

- What kind of embarrassing things could Trafalgar Law possibly do? I can think of a few things, as the surgeon of Death has the ability to make even the least embarrassing and normal of things feel awkward for him.

-Let's say you caught him humming while working, or pour sugar into his morning coffee. These things could be "normal" to anyone that doesn't have Law's sense of embarrasment. He has to maintain his "serious" demeanour after all.

-What? Trafalgar Law pours sugar in his coffee? How sacrilegious! Humming while taking a bath? Someone kill him before anybody sees/hears this.

-At first he will be at his ease, thinking that nobody is around, but then, he spots you looking at him.

-His first thought is "fuck." His mind is blurred by one hundred plan of how to get out of this embarrassing situation.

-He would feel a bit humiliated that you think it's cute. Probably push his hat further on his head to hide.

-Turns away and pretends that nothing has happened. Would be awkward for the rest of the day but continue acting as if nothing has happened. He will be extra careful next time he engages in some "Not-so-Trafalgar-Law-Actions"

Sabo

-Dudes and dudettes, I present to you the king of embarrassing situations and perfectly owning them!

-It's right, Sabo is the kind of guys that has such charisma that he could get out of any embarrassing situation.

-So what? He waved at you and noticed that you were waving at someone behind him? He'd proudly pretend that he is adjusting his hat or running a hand in his hair.

-What about him trying a dish that's too spicy and turning as red as a tomato? Wouldn't that be embarrassing for Revolutionary Sabo, to be a man that can"t even handle a little bit of spice?

-But don't worry. He can of course get out of any situations with grace, and he would untie his cravat and stick out his tongue and say something along the lines of "Oops, this one might be too spicy for me"

-And a wink.

-And you'd die in a puddle of your own drool.

-He would play anything off cool. If he notices that you saw him do something stupid, he'd just scratch his neck and laugh it off. No biggie! It could even be a nice conversation starter.

Koby

-Someone please PLEASE end him.

-Instant panikk

-Wishes he didn’t wake up and wasn’t born all at once.

-What if he drinks too fast and it comes out of his nose? He would have the cutest disappointment face. And you’d just melt at how cute he looks with a pouty face.

-The moment he notices you looking at him, he turns red. I wonder if he would hyperventilate.

-He would feel extremely embarrassed that you saw him lacking elegance. His heart would be pounding so fast.

-However, when he notices that you are just as distabilized as he is, he would gain back confidence and probably laugh it off as well.

-”I drank too fast I think!” He would say with a sorry face while nervously scratching the back of his head.

-”But it was so cute!” You think out loud. And it would lead to some romantic situation, such as him saying “Not at all, you are the cute one after all.”

-A daring and successful comback for our little Koby!

Ace:

-Pretends nothing happened but fails to do so.

-Tries to act cool but actually looks dumb and awkward.

-When he noticed that you have seen him he doesn’t get shy or anything but starts laughing.

-He thinks that you’re gently teasing him so he probably would try to get back at you by tickling you to tears.

-Till you literally beg for him to let you go <3

-Corazon:

-Just give up. His whole existence is an embarrassant moment.

-Doflamingo:

-Embarrasment? Who is she? This man knows no shame. He owns it and slays like a king.

[katyasrussianaccent]

i don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips (corpse x reader)

Summary: Corpse suggests you flirt with each other to mess with the fans. What happens when you suddenly catch feelings?

Authors Note: This has been in my brain for so long so I decided to write it. May or may not write a part 2, im not sure. Lemme know what you think! My requests are open for fic/headcannons aswell 💖

It should have been simple.

Flirt, mess with the fans a little, sit back and relax.

It should have been simple.

You remember Corpse coming to you with the idea.

“Why would we do that?” you had asked, frowning at your phone screen. It had been another late night phone conversation with him; something that was starting to become a regular occurrence.

You pictured him shrug as he answered. “Fun?”

“Are you so bored you wanna make a fake relationship with me?”

“Not a relationship. Just do what we do now, but like, more.”

You had agreed before your brain had even registered it. On paper it was straightforward. You already flirted a little anyway, you were naturally a flirtatious person, and so was he. It made sense; or at least you had told yourself that it did. You knew the fans already shipped you together, you saw the things they tweeted as you occasionally lurked the ynhusband tag on Twitter. It was just innocent fun right? No-one was going to get hurt.

For a little while that was true. For a little while he called you baby and you called him darling and it meant nothing. Your face didn’t feel flush when he commented on your latest Instagram post and your heart didn’t do a little flip when he would call you just to see how you were. The phone conversations were your favourite; curled up in bed with the phone on your pillow, trading secrets into the night. He had suddenly become this constant in your life, this almost routine familiarity like brushing your teeth or going to get milk.

You weren’t sure what changed, when it had gone from being innocent fun to meaning something. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and Corpse was no longer a warm glow but this bright, blinding light that hurt your eyes to look at too long. It was almost cruel, the way you wanted something so unobtainable; the universe’s idea of a joke had no humour in it. The thing with Corpse was he was so unaware of the power he had. He was mysterious yes, but he was faceless among a sea of faces; of course people were drawn to him. And you were just another.

You started to pull away. You played different games with different people, you ignored his tweets. It was easier, if you never interacted with him, you could pretend there was nothing but shallow feelings instead of the crashing waves that threatened to pull you under. The fans had started to notice; your streams were filled with questions that you refused to answer.

“Where’s Corpse?” you read aloud as you scrolled down the chat. “Probably in his house? Go ask him.” Your tone was bitter even to you and you inwardly cringed. He hadn’t contacted you in 2 weeks, and while you were thankful, you were hurt by it. It was stupid and hypoctritical of you to be upset by something that was your own doing, and you weren’t sure what you had expected from him. He had other friends, other people to talk to, why would he have cared about you anyway?

Your phone lit up next to you, and you ignored the pang of disappointment at Rae’s picture flashing up.

Rae: Among Us???

You hesitated for a second. The likelihood of Corpse being there was high, but you knew deep down he wouldn’t say a thing to you, not on stream or in front of your friends. You could just ignore him, like you had been doing and it would be fine. You weren’t sure you believed yourself anymore.

“Guys, you want to watch me play Among Us? I’m not sure who’s playing, other than Rae.” You looked at the fast flowing stream of affirmatives and emojis. Guess you had to do it now. You opened up the game and joined the lobby.

“-yeah she looks really fucking cute,” you heard Corpse say as you logged in. You looked down at your outfit,; he definitely wasn’t talking about you in your oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. You had been on stream for a few hours now; your eyeliner was smudged a little and any lipstick had worn off with the constant drinking and licking your lips. No, he definitely wasn’t talking about you.

“Hey guys,” you said tentatively, swallowing down the feeling of jealousy at Corpse’s previous words.

A chorus of greetings hit you, and you smiled at their enthusiasm. You had played with Rae, Sykunno and Toast a few times before, but Felix, Jack and Ash were new to you, though you knew of them.

“Hey Y/N,” Corpse said. You had hoped after 2 weeks he wouldn’t still affect you so much, but the way your stomach turned said otherwise.

“Hey Corpse,” you replied, hoping your tone was casual.

“I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?” he asked.

“Oh. Uh yeah, I’ve been a bit busy I guess, how are you?” You looked down as you answered, picking at your nail polish. You glanced at the chat that was filled with messages.

corpsesbaby: You can always tell when someones lying coz they look down” llamadelrey: why is this so awkward lmao arent they friends??” simpsforrae: This is like is a breakup i swear

“I’ve been okay, thanks” Corpse answered, drawing your eyes off the chat and back to the game. You nodded as you muted your mic to go back to your stream.

“I hope I don’t get imposter, I always suck at that so much.” You watched as the screen counted down and the word IMPOSTER flashed up alongside Corpse’s name. “Guess I jinxed it guys.”

Great. Not only were you imposter, you were imposter with Corpse, which meant you would have to actually speak to him. Maybe you wouldn’t have to.

You both followed Rae as she walked up towards Greenhouse, and you cornered her while she did her task, killing her quickly.

“Everyone seemed to go right, so we should vent back towards cafeteria to avoid suspicion,” Corpse said.

“Okay,” you answered. You vented together, and you muted your mic to laugh. “This is kinda cosy guys.” You said to your chat. You briefly imagined what it would be like in real life to be so close to him.

You moved to Admin where Toast was doing his task. Before you could say a word, Corpse had already killed him and you both vented outside Cafeteria. “Fuck, that was so close,” you muttered, chuckling a little.

“Don’t worry, I got your back,” he replied, making your heart sing a little.

“Oh my hero,” you said, making a point of swooning to your chat, your voice high and airy. “How will I ever repay you?”

He chuckled, “You shouldn’t ask questions like that.”

You flushed at the suggestive tone he had taken, and you hoped it wasn’t noticeable but judging by the comments in your chat, it clearly had been. This was another issue you had with Corpse; he always made these type of comments with you and it was really annoying. You knew there was no chance he was being serious, and sometimes you wished he would stop it purely because it got your hopes up.

delilah: shes BLUSHING dreamofme: uWu yn uWu

You opened your mouth to respond when Dead Body Reported flashed up, bringing your thoughts back to the game.

“Toast and Rae are dead,” Sykuuno said. “I found Rae in Greenhouse and Toast in admin.”

“I was in balcony, I went there from the cafeteria,” you said confidently. You hated being Imposter, especially being teamed with Corpse, who was so good at the game, you had a lot of pressure to do well.

“I was in MedBay, I didn’t see you YN,” Ash accused.

“You only see if they enter through the left door. She entered through the other door,” Corpse answered for you.

“And how do you know that?” Felix asked.

“I was in Cafeteria,” Corpse replied.

“You could’ve vented YN,” Jack said.

“No I couldn’t have, if Ash was in MedBay, she would have seen me. Unless she wasn’t in MedBay,” you suggested, smirking to your cam as you muted. “It’s not going too bad I don’t think? Always feel like I’ve been arrested when I’m Imposter.”

“Little sus of you Ash to say you were in MedBay when you weren’t,” Corpse said. You gaped a little at how easy it was for him to manipulate the situation, it was almost scary.

Ash argued as the other players began to agree and discuss among themselves. You smiled in success at the text on the screen.

Ash has been ejected.

You split up this time, and while you hadn’t really spoken during the game, you kind of missed Corpse’s astronaut next to yours, and you said that to your chat. “Haha, our colours did look cute together, I agree.”

Any previous trepidation you had had disappeared as soon as you had heard his voice; and you realised how much you had missed him. You would simply just need to deal with your feelings; they would go away eventually anyway. You just hoped it wasn’t too late for you to start again with him.

You walked to MedBay with Skyunno, making small talk as you did.

“I’m glad to see you playing with us, it’s been a little while,” he said and you felt bad that you would have to kill him. As you turned towards him, ready to kill as he did his task, Jack walked in. You mouthed oops at the cam.

“What’s going on here?” Jack asked, suspicion in his voice.

“I was just saying how nice it was to have YN here,” Sykunno replied. You stood and faked your task, watching the green bar fill as you did. It would be too risky to kill here.

“Ah yeah, Corpse has been asking after you constantly,” Jack said. You blinked at the response, it had caught you off guard.

“Oh?” you replied simply. You mentally shrugged it off. Of course he would have asked about you, you were friends, that was all.

DEAD BODY REPORTED

“Felix was dead in Reactor,” Corpse announced. “Oh Corpse, you’re taking a risk here” you said to your chat.

“I was in MedBay with Jack and Sykunno,” you replied, smiling as they agreed. “Where were you Ash?”

She sighed sadly. “I was in Labs, but I was doing a task, I swear!” You all agreed quickly that Ash would be the next voted out.

“2 to go,” you said triumphantly. “I thought I was gonna drag Corpse down, but it’s going okay!”

The round started again and you could feel yourself getting tired. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too much longer to finish the game.

You circled round Corpse a few times, hoping that he would understand your signal. Luckily he did, and you both vented to Decontamination where Skyunno and Jack were. The room had already started to emit steam, making it extremely easy for you both to vent unnoticed and kill them both.

You grinned at the Victory message that flashed up.

“Good game guys!” you said. The others congratulated you and Corpse on your win and you smiled at the sound of your names together. You had it bad.

“It was all YN,” Corpse said.

“Pfft you ssh being humble, it was all you,” you replied, taking your hair out of your ponytail and running your hand through it.

“Your hair looks nice,” Corpse commented and your eyes widened. Your heart started to beat a little quicker. How long had he been watching your stream?

“It’s bad to watch someone’s stream without telling them,” you replied, making a show of pouting for the camera.

He laughed a little. “What can I say, I’m a bad guy,” he said, singing the last words. You laughed at the sudden Billie Eilish.

“Guys, either play another game, or get a room,” Felix interrupted. You blushed a little and rolled your eyes, the chat going crazy from the corner of your eye.

“And that’s my cue to exit,” you said, yawning. “Bye guys, have a good night!” You wished everyone and your chat goodnight before closing the stream and leaning back in your chat. You couldn’t believe Corpse had been watching you. You hadn’t said anything too incriminating, but still.

You prepared for bed, settling back into the softness of your pillows as you grabbed your phone - a terrible habit you really needed to stop.

Corpse: Can I call you?

You gulped at the message that appeared on your screen, a gnawing feeling of nervous clung to your throat as you typed yes. His name came up almost instantaneously and your hand shook as you pressed to accept the call.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even while your heart beat erratically in your chest.

“It was nice playing with you again,” he commented.

You sat up a little as you held the phone against your ear. “Did you call me to tell me that?”

“I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

You sighed a little. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy, sorry - “

“You’re lying to me and I don’t know why,” he replied. You had never heard his voice like that before; so angry and hurt. You tapped your foot against your mattress as you thought what to say.

“I -”

“Did I do something?” he asked. You had been so selfish; blocking him out to avoid being hurt, but you hadn’t thought about his feelings. He was more popular than you were, you had assumed he would be fine, that he wouldn’t care if you were around or not.

“No, you didn’t do anything, I swear -”

“Then what? Because I thought we were friends, close friends and then suddenly you pretty much disappear. But you’re still streaming with other people. It’s pretty shitty of you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek and looked up, the sting of tears threatening to fall. “It was really shitty of me, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Please just tell me.”

“I don’t know what I’m meant to say,” you replied softly.

“What do you want to say?”

You blinked, the anticipation of unspoken words caught in your throat, making it hard to swallow. The taste of them was bitter on your tongue. “I...I have feelings for you.”

There. You had said it. There was no taking it back now, and you felt like your heart was about to shatter with every single second of silence that passed. You could hear him swallow on the other end of the phone. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

You bit your lip, taking in the meaning of the question he had asked. It wasn’t something you had thought of, you hadn’t conceptualised your feelings for him, not put them in a box labelled love or anything. “I don’t know. I feel something for you. And it kinda sucks being your friend and having those feelings. So I pulled away.”

“Why does it suck?”

You laughed bitterly. “Why wouldn’t it? Feeling something for someone that doesn’t feel the same is fucking shitty.”

“I asked you to flirt with me YN -”

“Yeah, for fun,” you interrupted.

“No, I said for fun, but really I just wanted you to,” he replied. “I feel something for you too. How could I not? Has anything I’ve ever said to you sounded like it was just for fun?” You smiled at his response, your heart no longer on the fit of breaking, but suddenly doing flips and soaring through your chest, radiating warmth through your body.

“Oh,” you said, your brain was overloaded with thoughts, and was apparently no longer capable of coherent sentences.

“Oh? That’s a great response, thanks,” he teased, but you could tell he was smiling as he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that, I don’t really know what to say honestly,” you replied.

“Well, baby, how about you say yes to a date?” he asked.

“Yes.”

[rayofsunas]

pretending you’re not his s/o. [1]

A/n: happy Thursday!! whew, the week is almost over thank goodness. I hope you’re all doing well and thank you for being patient while I knock out these requests <333 Scaramouche’s is long for obvious reasons (I simp) ALSO thank you for 800 followers, I hit that milestone yesterday ahagdwcsh omg I’m growing so much wtf. thank you all :) <33 

Summary: the boys having to pretend their s/o is their secretary, maid, friend, etc. (someone other than their s/o)

Parings: Childe/Reader, Venti/Reader, Kaeya/Reader, Diluc/Reader, Albedo/Reader, Aether/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Chongyun/Reader, Xingqiu/Reader, Scaramouche/Reader, Razor/Reader, Bennett/Reader, Zhongli (fem and gn mixed)

Warnings: violence tbh (in Scara’s especially chile), swearing, crack, angst?, fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Requested by bestie @mintydump​ 

Refuses (tells people you’re his s/o and compromises the mission)

Childe: for some odd reason, he was sent out by the Tsaritsa to retrieve a man who was impersonating one of the eleven harbingers and you were to go along. she said men were much more willing to follow along, if there was a beautiful woman promising affection, etc. the only problem was, to win over the impersonator, you had to pretend to be Childe’s co-worker. he hated this idea, and the minute he left, he reassured you he would not call you his partner unless it was romantically. so hell yeah, he’ll compromise the mission and will return without the impersonator. he does not care, you’re not his co-worker. he’ll just be like, “sorry, next time send me alone.”

Venti: jean why... ofc you'd be great company duh, but why did you need to be his babysitter on this expedition?!? sure, Venti may look like a child, but this was stupid! he’s loose-lipped anyways, so he’ll accidentally let it slip to whoever that you’re not his babysitter and that you’re his s/o. he’ll be like, “oops.” with the biggest shit-eating grin. he doesn’t care though, you’re not his babysitter grrr. 

Razor: he also accidentally lets it slip you’re his s/o. hunters were after him and his friends, you included (you’re human, he considers you family though, therefore wolf) and he just yells, “don’t touch my mate, GRRR” before ya know, ending them lmao. it never crossed his mind that maybe it wasn’t in his/your best interest to say what you were to him. other hunters could be nearby listening and then target you at a later date. but, tbh he will worry about that another day. as long as you’re safe now, he’ll always be there to protect you. 

Refuses (he doesn’t refuse the mission, but he refuses calling you someone other than his s/o/he won’t say if you’re his s/o or not.) 

Kaeya: he definitely won’t be calling you anything other than his s/o but he also won’t offer this mission to anyone else. he’s more than capable and he can do this without you having to be in danger too. if someone asks who you are, he’ll just cooly respond with, “none of your business.” and move on. he’ll use that whenever someone asks who you are. even if someone gets a little pushy, he won’t use anything to clue them of your relationship.

Xingqiu: he was supposed to borrow steal a book from someone. he needed it for personal purposes lol; it would be great for his collection. and from his understanding, the person who has it wasn’t using it. though you were confused on why he needed to break into somewhere to retrieve it. you just happened to be with him when he broke in, he says it was an accident that you were there, but tbh it’s all part of the thrill and his mischievousness. despite Chongyun warning him that he shouldn’t have brought you, he still did. and when the person who owns the book whips out a sword and then asks why you were brought along if you seemed timid and unreluctant to steal, Xingqiu’s response is, “well she’s my girlfriend! duh.” cue deadpan. legit no hesitation.

Scaramouche: this mission is happening no matter what. the Tsaritsa’s life is on the line; highly trained assassins from all over Teyvat were sent into Snezhnayan territory to kill her. she could protect herself, but Scaramouche was feeling feverish for battle; he was one of the more unhinged and dangerous harbingers, she entrusted this task upon him. he never turned down a mission. plus, it’s your fault you’re even here. why are you here again!? he left you home in Inazuma days ago. also... who the hell was looking after your daughter if not you...?? when you caught up with him once he was well away from Liyue Harbor’s docks (so he couldn’t force you to get back onto the ship, smart) you told him you weren’t some housewife and you missed the thrill of adventure, so you snuck on the ship too. he wasn’t sure how you got on in the first place without alerting The Kanjobugyo (you’ve snuck out before, so he’s told them not to let you leave, though he assumed you used your former title of a Fatui to gain clearance) let’s just say he’s not happy you’re here, but he’s not turning back now, he’s determined to end this. in the end, he kills all the assassins (ofc). on your way back to Liyue Harbor, arguing about why you’re here (you’re losing), another assassin comes out of the shadows; intent on killing the both of you. he’d managed to grab the end of your hair in his fist and was going to slit your throat. Scaramouche will say, “don’t touch my wife, you insolent scum.” he doesn’t have a problem telling those who have a death wish of your intimate relationship, because they’ll die in the end anyway; therefore to him, it’d be like they never knew. 

Zhongli: not many people know you’re his s/o anyways, so if he has something to do, especially dangerous you’re not coming along. he’ll make sure of that. on missions or something, he refuses to call you anything other than his s/o, but if he can’t/wants to keep it private he’ll call you by your name. if you’re facing off against someone, he’ll be like, “y/n, please watch out, I’ll handle this.” he never wants to put you in danger, and tbh even someone threatening who knows your name is a risk, but if they ever found out that you were not only his s/o but the s/o of an Archon? yeah, you’d be on a hit list just like him. 

Accepts (he will do this and won’t ask any questions)

Diluc: sorry y’all, but once this is discussed in full and you agree, he’s going to accept it. this mission is important. it’s not often people travel into Inazuma, so he was very lucky his wine is sold there and that he has a popular, well-known name. shipments of his wine weren’t making it into the borders and he was to find the culprit behind it; someone was stealing obviously. you were to go along with a few other soldiers and when jean told him it would be safer to call you his maid and not his fiancé, he agreed. you wouldn’t be a target that way. if anyone wonders why he took his maid, he’ll just say, “she’s to travel everywhere with me.” don’t worry, after the missions over he’ll reassure you he doesn’t think of you as his maid, definitely not. he’ll apologize profusely. “please don’t think of yourself that way, you’re not my maid, I adore you very much, sweetheart.”

Xiao: he already doesn’t go around calling you his wife or telling just anyone, only the Archons know and the fallen Yaksha once knew (you’re one of the female Yaksha) so being talked into this wasn’t a big deal at all. before, he didn’t run around Liyue telling people about your relationship because you both enjoyed the privacy. but now, having to call you his fellow Yaksha who’s been working alongside him for centuries, kinda feels like he’s ignoring or not acknowledging you. sure, you do hold the same titles (Yaksha) and yes you’ve known eachother for centuries, but really, you’ve been together for centuries. if you’re not bothered, then he doesn’t mind. but if you are? he’s very apologetic and will repay you in some way. “you’re not a weakling, you have no reason to worry.” he needs to do this task, he’ll never turn away from the people and if you have to be known as your Yaksha title to him and others, so be it. 

Chongyun: it’s not that he doesn’t want to call you his s/o. it’s just he’s a quiet guy and never has told anyone about your relationship; only Xingqiu knows. so he has no problem introducing you as his friend to absolute strangers, especially if you’re okay with it. if you’re not and tell him, he’ll be sure to never call you a friend again. he’s really looking out for your safety, people can be two-faced as he’s learned from Xingqiu’s fantasy books. he wants to protect and keep you safe, and if you need to be addressed as his friends a few times then that’s how it’s going to go. 

Accepts (he’ll accept but he has so many questions on why and hates it)

Albedo: he will accept if there’s a logical reason. for example, if you absolutely need to come because you’re his assistant or something and can offer your expertise, he will accept. but if you have no need? you’re not coming, please stay home. the whole time, he hates this. yes, you’re his assistant irl, but you’re his s/o, not just an assistant. it makes him sick that he has to call you that tbh, even if it’s your occupation. but it’s necessary for a lot of reasons you two have already discussed. after the mission is complete, he’s never going to stop apologizing. “love, please do not take what I said to heart, you’re not just an assistant.”

Aether: he has to be talked into this a lot. once kaeya and jean tell him the seriousness and importance of seeing his sister again, especially after all they’ve discovered about her, he’ll agree. no matter how much he hates calling you his travel partner, he has to. his sister has turned to the dark side for whatever reason and this meeting already is risky enough. if she finds out you’re his girlfriend, who knows how she’ll react; she’s very unpredictable now, a little unhinged even. but it does hurt to have to call you that, let’s be real. he never wants to say or hear that ever again.

Bennett: he knows he’s quite unfortunate, so you going with him on expeditions is just stupid and you could face something awful due to his bad luck. you go either way though, what a good s/o :) he almost slips a few times, especially facing off against a few lowlife Fatui. but then you remind him of the dangers of doing that and you’re immediately just a friend/member of Benny's Adventure Team. pls, he hates this so much, like why can’t he call you what you are?!? he’s constantly like, “well why can’t I just say you’re my s/o already? they won’t harm you as long as I’m here!” ?!?!?!? HE JUST DID?!?!?!?!

2.25.21, rayofsunas 

[luna-writes-stuff]

Thank you for taking my request!! I loved it and if you’re willing to do another one for Kaz, could you write Kaz headcanons about his crush aka reader getting injured on a heist because of an accidentally mishap by Jesper? Thank you either way!!

Oops?, Kaz Brekker

Injured s/o might be my favorite trope. Got a bit carried away while writing. Sorry in advance.

Headcanons, genderneutral s/o

Tw: Angst, descriptions of a fight, being smashed into a wall, blood, injuries, stabwound, concussion….basically the whole shebang. Shooting, killing, breaking someone’s bones, Jesper did an oops, passing out, worried Kaz (that’s new), throwing up, Kaz touches hands with reader. That seems like enough, don’t you think?

- This job wouldn’t even be that difficult or complicated. All you had to do, was to steal a key for a heist that would occur at the same evening. It was a small pickpocket job. One that Kaz could’ve easily done if he hadn’t been busy helping Wylan get hold to a bunch of bombs.

- So there you stood, with Jesper, in the middle of a busy street. The people were swarming around you, but it would only make the job of stealing easier. Jesper’s job had been to distract the victim as you slid past him, grabbing the key from his pocket. Jesper had even gotten lined from Kaz to ensure that he wouldn’t screw up.

- “There he is.” Jesper had announced, pointing towards a man with an awfully obvious mustache, walking towards the pair of you. You quickly separated from Jesper before the target would see you. Just then, you fellow crow put on his disguise as a lost boy.

- “Excuse me,” he had started, walking up to the confused man. “but do you happen to know where the docks are? I fear I’ve gotten myself lost a bit.”

- You rolled your eyes at Jesper’s attempt of appearing lost. If you had not known him, you would’ve perhaps believed him, but right now, it was just stupid to look at.

- You found yourself placed on the other side of the street, behind the man. Without attracting too much attention to yourself, you walked along with the crowd, now approaching his back. With a quick hand, you fished something out of his pockets, walking away just as quick as you had approached. Your steps not wavering.

- But just then, a second voice was heard; “That does not belong to you, girl.”

- You did not stop your pace, only speeding up a bit, but not too much, just in case the speech had not been directed towards you.

- But it had been.

- You see….Jesper had been talking to the wrong person. It was another man with a big mustache, but not the one he should’ve been looking for. You however, had found the right man, but now, there was no distraction.

- Suddenly, you got grabbed by your arm, being dragged into a side-alley. Quickly, you feigned a confused expression, turning towards the man, pretending to speak another language.

- “It doesn’t matter what language you speak; you have something that belongs to me.” At those words, he held up the key you were looking for.

- “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Looking down towards your hand, you found a blunt piece of metal, the same weight and size as a key, but not so much the shape of one. It had been a decoy.

- “Who sent you, girl?” He question, taking a threatening step towards you. You didn’t move one step. Instead, you fiddled with the metal, trying to find a sharp piece to attack him with, but when you found none, disappointment struck you.

- “I asked you a question, dear.” With that, you dropped the metal, punching the man in his face. It worked, but only for a minute. He wavered but came to his senses as quickly as it went.

- From behind you, someone pinned your arms, throwing you towards the nearest wall. The man had been expecting this and had even gotten back-up. And Jesper was still talking to a random civilian, probably wondering why you haven’t shown up yet.

- The impact with the wall caused the air to leave your lungs, the back of your head hitting the concrete. A loud ringing had filled your ears, leaving you incapable of hearing anything else at the moment. But you were smart. Rolling away quickly, you pulled the man down to the floor.

- Climbing over him, you grabbed one of the knives Inej had so kindly gifted you once. Without hesitation, you plunged it into his neck, ensuring he wouldn’t attack you anymore.

- You hadn’t been given time to get back up. A sharp pain suddenly filled your side, the feeling as if a cut brick had been thrown against it.

- “You’re not the only one with knives on you.” The target growled, now kneeling down to come face to face with you. Your vision became blurry. Whether that was because of your earlier impact with the wall or the blood seeping out from your body, you didn’t know.

- “I don’t need knives.” You managed to get out, grabbing the man’s hand that held onto the dagger, pushing his pinky back, effectively breaking it.

- While he fell back in pain, you crawled away from the scene, trying to stay hidden. With your current state, defense was something that would only slow more over time. From corner of your eye, you saw the target getting back up, but he fell down the moment both feet touched the ground, a loud bang following his fall.

- “Saints, Kaz is never going to live this one down.” A familiar voice mumbled, quickly nearing you. “You stay awake or we’ll both be in big trouble, okay?”

- No answer came out of you. The spinning in your head made you nauseous beyond belief. You had already started to lean down, feeling the vomit coming up. The last thing you remembered were Jesper’s hands holding your hair back while you threw the nausea out.

- You had woken up in your own room a few hours later. Your waist had been covered in bandages while semi-wet towel rested beside your head, which had probably fallen off during your sleep. Nina’s perfume hung in the air, letting you knew she had been here not too long ago.

- As your eyes tried focusing on the room, a sting hit your side, causing you to turn over and grunt in annoyance.

- “Don’t move. We just changed the bandages.”

- The voice made you freeze, halting your movements to your side, instead laying back down. You had expected Nina or Inej to be here, maybe even Jesper, but not Kaz.

- “And don’t think too much or try to talk. You’ve suffered a heavy concussion.” If your eyes could’ve allowed you to roll them, you would have. But it hurt like hell at the moment, so you deemed it wise to not use them too much.

- “Would you rather I fall back asleep?” You mumbled teasingly, yet the sound of sleep did come off as appealing. Passing out was not like sleeping at all. You felt exhausted, but you could not pass an opportunity to annoy Kaz.

- “That would be wise, yes.” Was his simple response. You slowly turned your head towards his voice, scanning your surroundings at his side of the room.

- “Tough luck, Brekker.” He did not respond to that comment. You took it as a sign to continue; “Did Jesper get the key?”

- “Along with three weeks of cleaning duty, yes.”

- When silence overtook the room once again, he slowly reached for your hand, placing his on top of yours before linking your thumbs together. The entire action left you frozen, scared to move even the slightest bit.

- “Go to sleep. You need to recover. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Was all he said, before slumping back in his seat on the chair beside you, his hand not once straying for yours.

- The need to annoy him had now completely subsided and had instead been replaced with the annoying feeling of bubbles in your stomach. That tickling feeling that was nowhere near funny, but could only make you stop your train of thought.

- Perhaps it was best for you to close your eyes. You mission had succeeded and judging on Kaz’ comments, so had the heist at the same evening. You were too tired to ask how long you were out and whether the heist succeeded or not. You started to obey Kaz’s command, closing your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Kaz’s hand on yours, no gloves or piece of fabric separating you. It was just you and him. And for now, that was enough.

[iwillbeinmynest]

Words Hurt - Clark Kent x Reader

Author’s Notes: This was super fun to write! Thank you for this request @widowvinter​! Hopefully, I did the ending justice. I feel like my writing got cringey but I tried to push through it. So I hope You like it.

Prompts:  12. I just want to be alone right now,  13. Don’t you dare ever do that again, 18. I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen,  34. Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?

Word Count:  1.2k (oops.)

Clark had his back turned. He was shooting lasers from his eyes and killing hordes of goblins. 

 You saw the rogue goblin grab a rocket launcher from the rubble and aim it at Clark.

 “No!!” On instinct, you jumped in between Clark and the threat. You pulled your balled fists in an X across your chest and then tossed them out with a shout as you threw the biggest forcefield of your life.

 The rocket exploded against the holographic wall, and the force threw you into Clark, who’d since detected the threat and turned in horror to see you defending him.

 He caught you and annihilated the final goblin. He looked down to see you slowly waking from being knocked out.

 He flew you to the rest of the league and Arthur took you from him and set you on the ground. 

 You groaned at the headache you’d acquired. “That was dumb.” You tried to chuckle but it made your head throb.

 Clark let his feet touch the ground as he examined your head. “You have a concussion.”

 “I’m fine,” you smiled at him but he scowled back.

 “You shouldn’t have done that.” Clark said angrily.

 “What are you talking about?” You looked up at him with a squint. “I was just trying to-”

 “I wouldn’t have been hurt but pushing your powers that hard was dangerous and now look at you,” he grimaced.

 “Easy, big guy,” Arthur started. “She was-”

 “I don’t care!” Superman began to rise from the ground. “It was reckless and stupid. Don’t You dare do that again! You put the whole team at risk and you are a liability out here. We can’t save the world if we’re constantly picking you up and saving your life!”

 Tears welled in your eyes and you looked to Barry.

 He nodded, and in a flash he took you and left.

...........

 You sat curled up on the couch. 

 Barry had brought you to a safe house not too far from the Wayne manor. And he’d been trying daily to convince you to come back.

 Barry brought you a cup of tea and sat in a chair across from you. “It’s been a week, y/n,” he said quietly. “How long are you gonna pretend to avoid him?”

 “Pretend?”

 He ticked his head to the side. “You and I both know he can find you like that.” He snapped his fingers.

 You did know that. 

 “You don’t have to stay,” you said. “But I’m not ready to go back.”

 He sighed. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to-”

 “He made his point very clear,” you snapped.

 Barry winced. 

 You softened with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I just-”

 “No, I get it.” He smiled at you. “But he was wrong. You aren’t a screw up and you are important to the team.” There was a bit of a pause before Barry added, “Also, if I don’t bring you back Arthur threatened to drown me, so.”

 You chuckled at his joke.

 “I’m not kidding. He actually said that.”

 You got up and kissed the top of his head. “I won’t let him do that.”

 He perked up. “So, you’ll come back?”

 You nodded. “Eventually. I just need some more time.”

 He understood. He gave you a hug goodbye and left the safe house.

 Hours later there was a knock on the door.

  You approached cautiously but before you could look through the peephole, someone called your name.

 “Y/n,” Clark called.

 You huffed. “Go away.” You turned from the door.

“I came here to explain to you what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.”

 You rolled your eyes and stomped back to the door. You opened it so quickly that wind blew your hair from your face. “Hurry up. I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with my stupidity and recklessness.”

 He sighed. “Yeah, I deserved that.”

 “I know.” You were being petty and bitter but you were still too upset to care.

 He took a deep breath, then looked you in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

 That was a start.

 “You scared me and I overreacted. I just don’t think you should-” He stopped and shook his head. “I mean… Y/n, I .... I’ve lost people. People I’ve cared a lot about. I was scared I almost lost you too and I can’t lose you. You…”

 He looked like he was fighting within himself but you weren’t sure why.

 “Y/n, I’m in love with you. And that’s, that’s what I came here to say, so.”

 You nodded.

 “You don’t have to say it back and I understand if you’re still angry with me.”

 You looked at the floor for a beat.

 “Clark, I just want to be alone right now.”

 Clark’s face fell but he nodded. “Right. I understand. Okay.”

 “But maybe don’t go far.” You looked at him.

 The corner of his lip twitched up and he nodded. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

.........

 The next morning you prepared yourself for the day. You packed your bag with the intention of going back to your apartment in Gotham City. But when you opened the door, Clark was there with four paper cups. 

 “I heard you were up so I figured I’d bring you a coffee only I realized I don’t know what you like so I brought a few options,” he grinned with flushed cheeks.

 You shook your head but smiled. “Thanks. Why don’t you come inside?”

 Clark followed you into the kitchen and set the drink carrier down. You opened the lids and found that all of the drinks were your favorites from four different coffee shops.

 “Clark.” You looked at him.

 He raised his brows like he didn’t know that you knew what he’d done.

 You sighed and picked a cup then went and sat on the couch.

 He sat at the other end of the couch and faced you. He took a breath like he was about to talk.

 You held your hand to stop him. “Before you say anything I need to know - and I want you to think long and hard before you answer, okay?”

 He nodded.

 “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”

 He looked at you the way you'd read about in romance novels. “Every single word.”

 Your eyes watered and you looked down. You bit the inside of your lower lip. 

When you finally managed to look back up at him he had moved closer and he  took your hands in his.

 “Don’t cry,” he pleaded. “I’ve made you cry enough, I think.”

 You nodded and wiped your face. “You were listening?”

 “All week,” he said.

 He looked at you and the air in the room shifted. Your heartbeat quickened and he smirked.

 He gently pulled you to him and held you close. 

 You looked into his eyes and summoned the courage you didn’t have yesterday. “I love you too.”

 Clark closed what little distance was between you and crashed his lips to yours. 

 You didn’t want the kiss to end but still, you pulled away. You put your hand on his jaw and ran your thumb over his lips.

 “I’ve been thinking about that for a long time,” you admitted with flushed cheeks.

 He chuckled and pulled you into another long kiss.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

[k00giie]

No One Quite Like Her

Kang Sae byeok x GN reader

❝ i found love in a hopeless place ❝

Warning: angst, death episode 6 spoilers!!!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

⚛︎the thought of falling in love at a place where death loomed around every corner and being together was impossible, wasn’t exactly an ideal circumstance...

⚛︎ yet here you were, falling head over heels for a girl that you couldn’t even name. The only thing you could adress her by was the pale white number patch on her turquoise blue jacket. Number 067, the girl who had seemed to stole your heart without even speaking to you at all.

⚛︎you had sense made it your goal to stay as far away from her as possible, but when one day while sitting alone, she approached you. Her deep chocolate eyes with dark circles under them, lazily gazing up at you. In a husky voice she asked, more of a statement than a question. “Join me?” Her hand stretched out in a welcoming manner, though her expression remained flat.

⚛︎without a second thought you found your hand in her’s. Her calcoused palm and slim fingers gently gripped your hand, giving it a light shake to seal the partnership. Your heart fluttered in your chest as her eyes met yours. Her short choppy bangs hanging just above her sharp eyes. Though as soon as the contact happened, it ended as she took her hand back, slipping it into her jacket pocket and strolling off.

⚛︎next you knew you were sitting in a circle of people awaiting instructions for your next game.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎you had lived. You made it through another game. And oh hell were you so thankful that the goddess herself had invited you to join her. Who knew where you’d be if she hadn’t. In hell probably...

⚛︎you absently followed behind 067, as everyone began to collect their food rations for the evening. You didn’t know why you followed her all the way back to her bed, but here you were. Standing above her as she tiredly muched on a piece of bread, smothered in butter.

⚛︎ “if your planning to kill me you’re doing a shit job.” She finally spoke. Her head remained down, too busy to even look up. “Luckily I’m not here to kill you.” You replied taking a seat down on the edge of her bed. Her eyes widened slightly as she moved further away from you, ready to kill if need be.

⚛︎ “whats your name?” You asked turning to face her. She scowled. “Why?” You shrugged with a small smile. “Kang Sae-Byeok.” She spoke with a small growl in her tone. “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” You replied. You finally knew her name... “why are you here?” You asked, so casually as if it wasn’t a huge invasion of privacy.

⚛︎she glared at you. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you gulped. If looks could kill, you’d be a goner. “Never mind, that was rude of me to ask.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry.” You apologized as she looked away from you, her knee brought up to her chin. That was all you got out of her. You got up uncomfortable and left to go to your own bed.

— ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ —

⚛︎the morning bell rung through your ears. what a way to wake up. You rubbed your head and followed the orders the masked men gave you. Was it bad that this had become your new normal?

⚛︎ ordered to pair up, the thought of Sae-byeok immediately came to mind. Your eyes scanned the room for any trace of the freckle faced girl. Luckily you found her leaning up against the wall, hands in her pockets and eyes dull and tired. You couldn’t understand how someone in these circumstances could still be so utterly breathtaking.

⚛︎ “pair up with me?” You asked, sounding as certain as you could. Your hand was now the one extended towards her cold aura. “And why would I?” She replied. “Because I’ll make sure you win, no matter what.”

⚛︎ she has reluctantly agreed. You shook her hand, but this time you didn’t let go. As the masked men gave you all instructions, guns loaded and pointed at your heads. You still kept your hand grasping hers. She didn’t complain.

⚛︎ the sight of artificial orange painted sky’s was almost as beautiful as the real thing. It seemed as if it was just a taste of the outside for what you would soon know to be your last. As the speaker from above told you that only one of the people in the pairs would make it out alive, a pit formed in your stomach.

⚛︎ you dropped her hand from your grasp, as your eyes fell to the dirt that your feet kicked at. Sae-byeok didn’t speak either. Not that she did much anyways. You took a seat on the stairs, patting a seat beside you. She carefully sat down beside you, an unreadable expression on her chiseled features.

⚛︎ “what will we play?” Sae-byeok asked breaking the silence. “Slow down, we got time.” You hummed. “Let’s end it in just one round. Until then...” you thought of what to say next. “Let’s just chat, like one of use isn’t about to kick it.” You said mustering up a smile. She gave a slight nod, hands clamped together in her lap. She didn’t look all that pleased about one of us dying either.

⚛︎ it was your chance now. To get to know who she was. You asked her questions, real personal ones and she answered honestly. You could hear the hurt in her tone as she talked about her family. At some point you found that the two of you had moved closer together, your thighs now touching and your hand resting on her shoulder as comfort as she vented.

⚛︎ nextly she asked about you. She wanted to know more about you, and you couldn’t help but spill your guts out over all the things you’d never told anyone. Now she was the one who had a hand placed on your lower back in comfort, as your eyes became glossy.

⚛︎ you glanced up at the clock. Time was running short. Only about 5 minutes left. You abruptly stood up, startling the calm and composed female beside you. “Let’s get our game started.” You suggested, she gave a nod, standing up beside you. “Who ever can throw the marble closer to the wall will win.” You explained in a calm tone.

⚛︎ “you can go first.” You gave a reassuring half hearted smile as you knew what would be coming next. Sae-byeok rolled her marble across the dirt, close to the wall. “Good job! My turn.” You bent down pretending to care, then dropping the marble only a few centimeters in front of you. “Oops, it slipped. Looks like you win.” Her eyes darkened...

⚛︎ “do it again.” She ordered. “Looks like you won.” You forced another smile, but your eyes were dull and teary. Her hands grabbed roughly onto your collar, pushing you against the brick wall. “Is this what you meant when you said I’d win if I teamed up with you?” Her voice wavered as her brows furrowed angrily. You shrugged. Sweat dropped from her face and her jaw clenched.

⚛︎ tears trickled from her eyes, down her flushed cheeks. You could feel you were now crying too. “If this is it let me tell you one more thing.” Your hand reached out to cup her cheek. Your thumb rubbed under her eye, brushing away the flowing tears. Her eyes widened as you leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. You wished it could’ve lasted longer but you knew your time was up. “Get out of here alive for me, okay?” Your hands lingered on her face before slipping to your sides once again.

⚛︎ a masked man approach you with a gun loaded, ready to end your life with a single shot. “Don’t look.” You whispered as you gently pushed her away. Her back turned towards you reluctantly. “Thanks, for playing with me.” Was your last words as tears spilled uncontrollably from your hues. The gun’s boom echoed across the plain,ending your life. That was the last thing you’d ever hear, and the last sight you’d ever see was the girl’s back, who you had fell in love with.

⚛︎ if only you could see her face, smiling. Just one last time...

[fanfic-me-up]

Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more? 

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub​ bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi​ and @im-here-for-the-heroes​ for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk​ this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?” 

Denki swallows. 

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you. 

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock. 

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm. 

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor. 

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor. 

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position. 

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!” 

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.” 

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?” 

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead. 

“Ho-hold on, let me just…” 

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer. 

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business. 

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!” 

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.” 

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.” 

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years? 

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time? 

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane. 

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight. 

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.” 

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.” 

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A. 

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone. 

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.” 

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth. 

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular? 

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed. 

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid. 

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras? 

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…” 

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.” 

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.” 

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” 

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.” 

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch. 

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army? 

“What the fuck, Denki?” 

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?” 

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?” 

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.  

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you. 

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?” 

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own. 

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.” 

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared. 

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be. 

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in. 

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again. 

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?” 

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.” 

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-” 

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line. 

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish. 

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second. 

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!” 

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.” 

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?” 

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.” 

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes. 

You both stare straight ahead at nothing. 

“Did you mean it?” 

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?” 

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him? 

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did. 

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes. 

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever. 

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!” 

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?” 

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”