#this is very short too SKSKSK

[vynnyal]

Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂

[rebeltigera]

I find v! Wukong and p! Macaque ship kinda funny because like, p! Mac is like two people in one body type situation right ( I might be wrong since I have goldfish brain) that means Mac affection for Wukong is so strong that LBD's hatred for Wukong is just gone

In a VERY short way to put it -

P!Mac is a fusion of both of em - But mainly in control is Mac. Well, whatever was left of him that is . P!Mac if fusion of whatever was left of them both after 1000 years of being sealed together by Wukong and the Pilgrims. THere are no 2 minds in one head, there is not 2 concious beings in this body, there's only one.

(LBD possessed Mac, they got stuck for a 1000 yr , they both were on the verge of dying , well it didn't work out , they got fused, bam you have P!Mac.)

P!Mac absolutely HATES his Wukong. His ex-mate, his King , his doom. That's not only LBD . SO , why not do a cleanup of the world and start from that simian? That's what happens in P!Mac's story in normal circumstances In Normal circumstances Mac DIE at the end of the story That is his destiny , that is my will, that is will of the universe. That's his canon. And P!Mac knows about it. He is accepting that fate.

...

And then V!Wukong appears .

and that's the only reason why P!Mac is alive n well.

(V!Wuk timelines are freaking great sksksks)

And it's not like P!Mac love V!Wuk (he wouldn't name it that way) . He is too mad. He find him useful- very risky, desireable , and the best way to keep V!Wukong around is not by doing him harm but to give him waht he want.

This man needed to die a couple of times just to prove he'd be USEFUL to P!Mac cuz the first time they met up P!mac almost died from his hand and he bolted the shit out of the place, away from him .

That is a guilty pleasure ship , don't judge

[dseval]

New AU? 🤔🤔

(This drawing took several years of my life, i think. Had fun but I wasn't a pro artist, sorry color theorists)

I made a joke UTMV AU based on Blue Archive, as a joke, said joke took too many effort now to just be called a joke. Decided to post it on Tumblr because I guess I need Social Media sometimes. The AU is based off Blue Archive (heavily) and To Aru Kagaku no Railgun (loosely). Interested in this long idea dump?

Under the cut.

(logo made with the Blue Archive Logo Generator, this is also a joke name)

ArchiveVerse, or I would personally abbreviate it as ArchV or ArcV for the remaining of this post, is a UTMV AU, where all the characters are our favourite skeleton: Sans but from multiple AUs. It is heavily based off Blue Archive, borrowing a lot of concepts— and loosely from To Aru Kagaku No Railgun.

Side note, i do not actually watch To Aru, nor do I play Blue Archive anymore. So several stuff are definitely made up.

This is literally my second post ever on Tumblr.

The joke concept image that started it all...

I'm sorry for the terrible artwork sksksks

Do note ahead that this AU is made in-and-out of art block, so some information and designs are inconsistent throughout the post. Everything is also written in Comic Sans MS, as a joke.

The Academy City

Do not take this AU seriously, it's just a slice of life thing. (Unless)

The academy city is occupied with students, nobody is an adult. However there are complete facilities in the city, like malls, restaurants, etc. Some students work in these facilities, but most of the time they are ran by robots/artificial intelligence.

In the heart of the city, rests the Omega Tower, which, hypothetically, kept the city running. It is occupied by the General Student Council. The Academy City itself is shrouded in mystery.

There are four academies in the city, each with their own districts:

(Thanks to an irl friend for helping me design and clean up the logos ♡)

Each student belongs to their own unique academy, though students can be promoted and enrolled from OPS to either Ordenance or Paradigm if they possess the qualities of excellence. Students who have already been in Juvenile Containment aren't allowed enrollment in Ordenance or Paradigm.

Here are several more fun facts about the academies:

Juvie students are still allowed to go out of their district, though this depends. If the student has a light sentence and hasn't committed any heavy crimes, they're allowed to go pretty much everywhere (unless they're banned in certain locations). Any student can go in and out freely if they have a pass.

There are no teachers, the students learn from text books and videos, though they still attend class.

Even if students come from different academies, they're still allowed to visit and make friends with students from other academies.

The Omega Public School district is the largest district among all academies, and each and every student has their own house, as opposed to the other academies' dormitory system.

Only the Paradigm Academy has a standard uniform. Ordenance students have a dress code, OPS is free to wear whatever. While Juvie students must still wear the uniform of the academy they are once associated with.

Students/Characters

A list of basically every student I have somewhat designed for this AU. Each student has their own unique halo, and their own unique powers, which I have put in the sheets. It also includes a short backstory.

However, they're, uh, pretty shabby. This is the most I have designed for a joke (what the hell). Some are well-made, though i faltered around the end. So please zoom in to see text more clearly.

Friendly note that Nightmare's bones isn't covered in goop in this AU, see the very very first Illustration on top of this post to see what I mean. They also have wings. Nightmare's wings are broken and a bit ugly here and there, while Dream's wings are white and pristine. Can they fly? Take a guess.

Guys I love Reaper but I suck at drawing him Im sorry

Halo designs are not final. Also, rest assured, these three are not the only members of the GSC.

Each student has their own special power. So far, I... Literally have nothing to say about these powers, except a few things:

They can manifest from emotions. For example, when Horror is flustered, smoke can come out of the crack of his skull. Or when Dust is nervous, he gets 'cold feet,' A.K.A the ground under his feet turns to ice. Cross also has lightning fizzle out of his fingers when he's nervous or surprised.

They can channel their powers to a weapon, though it's not necessary.

Welp, that was fun. I have fun making this AU (even if it's unlikely anyone will see it). Thanks, guys, have a nice day.

Credits (please tell me if I missed anyone, or misspelled anything):

Undertale by Toby Fox

Nightmare and Dream Sans by Jokublog

Dust Sans by Ask-Dusttale blog

Killer Sans by Rahafwabas

Horror Sans by SourAppleStudios

Cross Sans by Jakei

Epic Sans by Yugogeer012

Color Sans by superyoumna

Delta Sans by AnimatedZorox

Ink Sans by Comyet/Mye bi

Error Sans and Geno by CrayonQueen/LoverofPiggies

Reaper Sans by Renrink

[drabbles-mc]

Curbside Service

Luca x GN!Reader (ft. Marcus)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: bakery

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: au where Luca runs his own bakery, my beloved. this is retaliatory insanity aimed directly at @narcolini and i simply have nothing else to say about it sksksk.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

For as much as Luca typically relished the hour or so at the very start of the day that he had to himself, he had to admit that he didn’t quite mind Marcus being there with him. He wasn’t expecting him to want to show up before five—he wouldn’t have blamed him for it either. Luca enjoyed the small hours of the morning because of the silence and peace that they afforded him. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Marcus had the same sense of quiet, same calmness about him that was so rare to find in the kitchen. Luca really hadn’t known what to expect when Carmy broached the topic of sending someone his way. The memories of what it was like with Carmy in the kitchen were still clear in the back of his mind, and for as much as he respected Carmy, enjoyed the push that he got from him to be better, Luca was still painfully aware of the energy that he carried with him. He’d been preparing for more of the same, would do it gladly if it was Carmy asking, but he couldn’t deny the relief in him when he met Marcus and felt the easy-going energy he seemed to exude.

“Chef,” Marcus said in greeting as he passed through the kitchen.

Luca nodded, not looking up from his measurements as he listened to Marcus stroll by him to go and put his things away. “Morning, Chef.”

That was all the two of them said for a bit. Marcus came back out, tying his apron into place as he did. He found his place beside Luca and picked up right where Luca was leaving off. It was a routine that they’d found themselves getting comfortable in over the last few days. They would do their work, soak up the peace and quiet. Every now and then they’d chat, but it always felt purposeful when they did—it wasn’t just for the sake of filling the silence.

“Make up the next batch of these, Chef?” Luca asked, wiping his hands on his apron as he got ready to move onto the next part of his daily prep.

Marcus nodded, knowing that the question was only phrased as such to be polite. “Yes, Chef.”

He stepped away, making his way over to where he knew all of the baking supplies were kept. He didn’t have it memorized the same way that he did at The Beef—The Bear, but for how short his time there had been he was doing alright. He scanned the shelves, going back and raking over them again when he didn’t see what he was looking for, then once more even slower when the second through yielded no results. He didn’t want to ask for assistance if the answer was looking him in the face.

When he was fairly certain it just wasn’t there, Marcus took a deep breath. “Chef?”

“Yea?”

“Um. You guys got a secret back room you forgot to tell me about?”

Luca chuckled. “Why’s that?”

“Because if you don’t, we’re out of flour.”

The kitchen was silent for a moment as Luca stopped what he was doing and made his way over to Marcus. For five long seconds it was just the two of them looking at the empty storage shelves. Marcus felt himself tensing up, not knowing how this was going to end up. He knew how this would end up playing out in Chicago, but they were a long ways away from there now.

“Well,” Luca let out a quiet laugh, “looks like we’re out of flour, then.”

The genuine ease in his voice made the tension instantly disappear from Marcus’s shoulders. He laughed, too, before jokingly saying, “Guess we should just close up?”

Luca laughed a little harder at that. “Yea, quit while we’re ahead.” He shook his head. “I’ll make a call in a bit. Been too busy—didn’t realize the delivery hadn’t come through yet.”

Marcus nodded. “Heard.” He paused. “Now what?”

Luca shrugged. “Onto the next.” He nodded towards the doors that led out into the customer side of the bakery. “You can start on front of the house.”

He agreed without hesitation, the way that he always did in the kitchen. “Yes, Chef.”

Luca kept a loose eye on the clock while he did whatever else he could of the prep for the day. The delay was going to put them behind, but not in any way that wasn’t going to be manageable. In the back of his mind he was aware that the people who filtered in and out of the shop most likely wouldn’t even notice as long as there was something in the display case.

When it was finally late enough, he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. Scrolling through his contacts, he made it down to the list of miscellaneous vendors he’d collected over the years. Once he dialed, he leaned back against the counter, phone pinned to his ear as he watched the timer ticking down on the oven.

“Hello?” you answered, sounding frazzled even though the day had hardly gotten started. It was going around, apparently.

“Hey, uh, sorry,” Luca didn’t recognize the voice, and for a moment he thought he’d called the wrong number. It took him a moment to recover and say, “Just calling about a delivery.”

“Okay, sure. What about it?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Never showed up.”

“Shit,” you said before you could stop yourself. You immediately covered your mouth with your hand, not that he could see you do it. “Sorry. Sorry.”

He smiled, not that you could see it. “It’s alright.”

“Okay. Right. Sorry.” You were trying to get your papers together, dig through the mess of a situation that had been left behind on the desk in the office. “Give me a second to get…get it together.” You heard him let out something between a hum and a laugh, but he didn’t say anything in response. Giving you the second you’d asked for, you assumed. Taking a deep breath, you finally said, “Alright. Sorry about that. What delivery were you looking for?”

The two of you went back and forth for a minute. You asked him some basic questions as you went through the papers, the orders that were pulled up on the computer screen in front of you. Then, sure enough, you found what you were looking for—a delivery that was supposed to have happened two days prior.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you said, pressing the heel of your free palm against your forehead. “Raf’s out and it threw a wrench into everything and his office is a mess so I’ve been trying to figure it out and some stuff, clearly, went through the cracks.”

“It’s alright. Blame it on Raf, yea?”

You laughed, feeling a little relieved at the ease with which he was handling the situation, but still anxious underneath it all. “Believe me, I will.” Leaning back in your chair, you tried to think about what your schedule looked like for the day. “I can run it over now?”

“What?”

“The flour. I can run it over to you if that works.”

“I can send my—”

“It’s fine. We usually bring it to you anyway. That’s,” you chuckled nervously, “that’s kind of the whole point, yea?”

Luca was nodding even though you couldn’t see him. Part of him wanted to say not to worry about it, that clearly you’ve got enough shit on your plate to try and handle. But he also knew that if the roles were reversed, he would be offering to do the same thing.

“Right. You have the address?”

“Um,” you looked over the order form on the screen, “yes.”

“See you in a bit, then.”

You let out a short sigh, glad that things didn’t implode like you thought they were going to when you picked up the phone. “See you in a bit.”

It wasn’t long before Luca heard Marcus calling back to him from the front of the bakery. “Chef?”

“Yea!” Luca called back as he started walking towards the door, fairly certain what it was about.

“Someone’s pulling up?”

“Yea,” Luca said with a laugh as he walked out of the kitchen and into retail side of the bakery, “the person letting you get the rest of your prep done, Chef.”

Marcus’s eyes widened slightly as he quickly started to follow in Luca’s footsteps, hardly even a stride behind him. Luca flipped the lock and pushed the glass doors of the bakery open. Reaching, he used his foot to drag out the doorstop to prop open the door on one side, Marcus taking the cue to do the same on the other.

“Wow,” you said with a laugh as you hopped out of the delivery van, “all hands on deck, huh?”

Luca flashed a quick grin as you strode up to him. “Make your life a little easier.”

Your brows furrowed for a moment as you registered the voice. “Luca? We spoke on the phone?”

“That was me,” he held his hand out for you to shake as he nodded towards the other man who had walked out with him, “And that’s Marcus.”

The morning had been such a whirlwind that until you felt the firm grasp Luca had on your hand, the warmth seeping from his palm into yours, your brain hadn’t slowed down enough to even register who you were really looking at. But then your eyes locked with his and every racing thought in your brain came to a screeching halt.

He broke off the handshake, an easy smile on his face as he nodded towards the van. “Thanks for this.”

“Yea, yea,” you worked harder than you should’ve had to just to get another word out, “no problem. Sorry,” you laughed nervously, “sorry it didn’t get here two days ago.”

Then it was just the two of you standing there. The concept of time was completely lost on you. It could’ve been seconds or hours as far as you were concerned. The only thing that alerted you to time passing at all was the sound of Marcus clearing his throat as he stood in the doorway of the bakery.

“These going in the usual spot?” he asked Luca, bag of flour held securely in his arms.

Luca looked back at him for a brief moment, nodding. “Yes, Chef. Thank you.”

Once Marcus nodded in understanding, Luca turned right back to you. You found yourself shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans just to keep from fidgeting with them. This was just supposed to be a quick delivery, and another quick apology, but now it felt like you couldn’t move.

“Raf’s out?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Yea.” You looked at Luca, saw the traces of concern on his face, and you shook your head. “Oh, don’t feel bad for him. He got hurt doing something stupid with his mates over the weekend. Messed up,” you gestured to your leg, “his entire shit.”

Luca chuckled, as much at your explanation as at your annoyance. You made it look good, somehow. “Left you holding the bag?”

You held your arms out. “Looks that way.”

“Still made it, though,” he said with a half-grin, like he was trying to soften the blow of it all for you.

“Two days late,” you said, almost like a joke even though it was the truth, “but we got here.”

You were vaguely aware of the fact that Marcus was still making trips back and forth with the bags of flour. You knew that you should let Luca go. You’d already put them behind schedule enough for not getting them what they needed when they actually needed it. But Luca didn’t seem like he was in that much of a hurry and if he wasn’t rushing off neither were you. You’d be willing to let the rest of your manager’s business crumble for a bit if it meant standing out on the sidewalk in the grey light of the early morning talking to a baker whose hair couldn’t have looked that good when he woke up in the morning.

“You’re not new,” he said it like a statement, but there was an unsaid question in there somewhere. He shook his head. “Never seen you, though.”

You shrugged. “Usually in the warehouse.”

“All the heavy lifting.”

Marcus butt into the conversation for a moment. “Least someone does the heavy lifting.”

You couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped past your lips. You covered your mouth with your hand, like that would unmake the sound. Neither of them gave you time to wonder if there was tension there, because Luca smiled and Marcus laughed.

“Be there in a minute,” Luca called over his shoulder. Even not knowing him, you could tell that there wasn’t any sense of urgency to his voice. It would be more than a minute.

Marcus mumbled something under his breath. It was too muffled for you to hear, but Luca must’ve, because the slick grin on his face got a little wider. Whatever mumbled shorthand they’d developed was effective. You watched Luca shake his head.

“I don’t wanna hold you up,” you said. It was a formality, of course—you’d hold him up all day if he let you.

He shook his head, the lack of hesitation almost making you want to believe him. “No, you’re good. It’s alright.”

You tilted your head, cocking one eyebrow. “Is it?”

“We’re already behind, you know?”

You laughed. “That makes it alright?”

He shrugged. “A bit.”

You wanted to say that you hated how the way he was looking at you made your whole face feel hot, heat creeping down the column of your throat despite the cool morning air. You wanted to hate it, wanted to think it was ridiculous because it absolutely was, but you didn’t. You watched him run his hand over all the patchwork tattoos that he had and you knew that you would waste away the entire day right there on the sidewalk. Waste his entire day too.

“When’s Raf back?” he asked.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Who fucking knows?” You laughed but you really didn’t have any idea.

“Then back to the warehouse, yea?”

“Hope so—his office gives me anxiety just thinking about it,” you said, chuckling at the truth of it.

“Organized chaos.”

“Nothing organized about it,” you fired back, trying not to laugh because the state of that room really was beyond the reaches of your nightmares.

You didn’t know why it felt so easy. You didn’t know what was so disarming about him. It wasn’t even seven in the morning and his apron already had steaks going down it, probably the last of the flour that they had before running out because of the delivery you hadn’t made yet. No on in their right mind should look as ready and happy about the day as he did, but there he was anyway. Mellowed out and positive in the face of it all.

“You should come by again,” he said, tone level in a way that you wouldn’t have been able to achieve if the roles were reversed.

It sent a jolt through you but you tried to keep it together. “I’ll come through on time next time, at least,” you joked.

The ends of his mouth lifted into a tiny smile. “No, I mean just come by. Stop in. Doesn’t have to be at six in the morning.”

“But I get all your undivided attention this way,” you said, shocking yourself with how easily it rolled off your tongue. You hoped your face didn’t convey the surprise you felt.

If he picked up on it, he didn’t say anything about it. He let out a quiet laugh. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Your heart was pounding against the confines of your ribcage but you somehow managed to keep your voice level. “Right.”

There was the sound of one of the doors to the bakery clattering shut. Both you and Luca looked at the van to see Marcus lifting one of the last two bags of flour from the back of it. His gaze was fixed directly onto Luca as he said, “Last bag is yours, Chef. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Luca caught the way that Marcus’s serious façade cracked at the last minute, a grin on his face as he stepped into the bakery. Luca laughed as he called after him, “Thanks, Chef!”

You cleared your throat, trying to knock the dazed look off your face because you were certain it was painfully evident. “I’ll let you get to it, then.”

Luca nodded as he looked at you. “Alright, yea.” His eyes scanned over you and you tried not to think too much about the way that his smile grew just a little wider.

“Good luck with the heavy lifting,” you said with a laugh, white knuckling the keys in your pocket like they would keep you present in the moment rather than getting lost in the imaginary future scenarios that you were already conjuring up in your head.

“I think I’ll be alright,” he joked as he stepped over and grabbed the bag from the back of the van.

It was shameless and you knew it, the way your eyes shot straight to his arms. But he started it, right? He looked first. Fair was fair. When your eyes finally made their way back to his face the smirk pulling at his lips said everything that his words never would. He was a gentleman for that at least.

“You’ll be back though, right?” he asked.

You knew that he had the answer to that question already just from the look in his eyes. You indulged him by saying it out loud, though. Maybe you were indulging yourself too. “’Course, yea. Starting at six AM, right?”

He laughed, taking another step backwards towards the door. “I actually get here closer to four, if you’re ever—”

“I’m never,” you cut him off with a laugh. You shook your head, getting yourself together for a moment. “I’ll see you, Luca.”

He laughed, nodding. “See ya.”

He was inside and the bakery door was shut and locked behind him again before you even managed to put the van in drive. You gave the place one more look through your sideview mirror before finally pulling away. You would be shaking your head at yourself for the rest of the day, for sure. But it’d be worth it. Going back would be worth it too.

Luca strolled into the kitchen, not saying anything as he went to put the last of the delivery away.

Marcus was shaking his head as he worked his way through the prep that Luca had decided to put off just a little while longer. He wanted to try and sound annoyed but he started laughing before he could take a good stab at it. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Luca was laughing too as he found his spot next to Marcus. “You had this under control just fine.”

“Like you’d know,” Marcus joked. “Too busy out there talking and not helping me with the two tons of flour you ordered.”

“Want me to pretend to be sorry?” he asked, laughing still.

Marcus shook his head. “Fucker.”

“Come on,” Luca feigned a serious tone, “Get to it—we’re behind on prep.”

The silence between them only lasted for another second before they both broke back down into laughter again.

[iridescent-solstice]

One might call Asra a very charismatic charmer, and they'd be so right. That's the only explanation available for how easily he managed to pull Helen into indulging him tonight.

With his parents spending more and more time at the shop lately, there wasn't nearly enough alone time as Asra preferred. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the palace called them back. So, he tried to be patient. Its always like this with her. More and more patience required every single day. Yet still he couldn't help but yearn for Helen's attention to be solely on him and him alone.

And how did he achieve that desire? By tugging at her love for colours of course

. . .

His low lidded eyes watch as her brows furrow in contemplation. Tongue sticking out slightly as she frets over the dried-up nail polish that won't apply properly. Breathing in softly to steady her shaky hands, she tries to paint an abominably vibrant range of colours on his nails. At his request, she is more than willing to commit a colour theory violation . . . Only for him though.

The brush ever so slightly touches the skin next to his nail making her hiss in frustration. Tightening her grip on his hand, she shoots him a glare, "stop moving, you're ruining my work." He shoots her a sheepish smile, "sorry my arm was falling asleep a little." Another white lie that falls so easily from his lips . . . The truth? He finds her irritation directed towards him very endearing.

(@graciebasie's oc has stolen my heart . . . and asra's too sksksks- This is a very short drabble cause I've been extremely tired as of lately, but I hope you like it nonetheless!)

[hexfloog]

(Episode 404, The Mysterious Angel's Mansion - pt. 2)

This little scene is probably one of my favorite DB interactions in the entire show -v- Everything from the way they got here— that is, Conan deliberately starting shit (and then throwing hands sksksk)— to the way they each react to the situation, to the eventual resolution and their implied state of their relationship with Conan...

To be fair, their dynamic is more than implied and we see it in action all the time, but rarely do we get to see anything apart from the reactionary, situational interactions necessitated by some external circumstance. Friends sometimes fight amongst themselves, kids even moreso, but the DB often get tangled in such dire, life-or-death situations that we usually don't get to evaluate the friendship beyond raw reactions to things like Genta nearly being shot, Mitsuhiko going missing, drivers taking off with Ayumi in the trunk, etc.

You could happily argue that this is just proof of strong relationships, because there's no time to premeditate anything and they're forced to be little balls of instinct-- and I would agree, but that's not the angle I'm taking with this scene.

Obviously, Conan is Team Mom, always spearheading the charge and guiding and looking after the others, but if the DB rarely hear Conan apologize for anything (as is the implication here), it fits right in with his character. He's a proud individual and having to even associate with children is, at least in the beginning of the series, embarrassing to him. Haibara even teases him a little afterwards with an observation that it's "tough" to motivate kids, possibly referring to the mental mountain he had to summit by admitting that he was wrong.

The only thing that could maybe make me like this scene more is if Conan's authenticity were less nebulous, but that same ambiguity is exactly what makes this scene appealing to me, too: reuniting the group by forcing a conflict to overcome despair and hopelessness and press onwards for the sake of someone else is, to Shinichi, probable justification to be both disingenuous or earnest about an apology, so I'm… well, I don't come away from this scene really knowing which one it is, and I... kind of love that. The series struggles with grey areas and I will absolutely take what I can get here

So does anyone think he meant it? Shinichi obviously cares about the children, so the natural answer is yes, but whether he's more or less honest about his apology has no bearing on the result— the kids stop fighting either way— so... at least in my head... there is no correct answer. It's left entirely to the viewer and just comes down to how you interpret his character: if he meant it, cool, the fact that he cares enough about the kids to put aside his pride for them is selfless and delightful; if he didn't, well... that's equally intriguing, isn't it? Maybe he's simply too proud to apologize and mean it, and the fight was just a means to an end (and nothing more) so that they could continue pursuing the solution to their dilemma... which could mean that Shinichi has an enduring problem prioritizing the mystery* over his peers (exactly the thing that got him into the Conan mess in the first place)...

This is a very short scene but goddamn if I don't enjoy the hell out of it. I love the kids and I wish they did more open-ended stuff with them like this (sobbing)

[headfullofpresley]

Take Me Home

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 9,2K

Summary: After finding out the masked hero you've been crushing on is your best friend, you realise it was never Spiderman that you've been in love with.

Warning(s): spiderman!Elvis, modern!Elvis, lil bit of angst, two idiots in love, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, fluff, both reader and El are in college, Spidey kiss!, smut; sex pollen (kind of dub!con), vaginal penetration, unprotected sex. probably missed a few warnings, so lmk!

A/N: based on mostly tobey's and andrew's spiderman, but it's not necessary to be familiar with the movies to read this or whatsoever. anyways, tits out for spidey! sksksk bye. enjoy my luvs 🕷

masterlist

“No one can win every battle. But, no man should fall without a struggle.”

“Let me walk you home. It’s not safe out there this time of night,”

You knew your friends were right. New York wasn’t safe, but you were stubborn and eager to get home after a long day of classes and a shift at the coffee shop you worked at.

You were too much of a social butterfly to turn down your group of friends when they suggested go out for drinks – hence the reason why you still weren’t home after midnight.

“Joe, I’ll be fine. It’s only a short walk and I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” you told one of your closest friends, giving him your most convincing smile before you hugged him.

Joe knew how independent you were and that you were able to stand up for yourself if needed, so he nodded and let you go after you said goodbye to everyone.

“Tell Elvis to call me!” your friend yelled after you, to which you responded with a quick wave and nod. He probably needed your roommate slash best friend for the project they were working on for one of their classes, which Elvis had only participated in once.

You always had a big mouth, not afraid to use it in times of injustice and in the presence of assholes, but when walking the streets of Brooklyn after the sun went down, you had a pep in your step.

Your quickened footsteps unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by a pair of guys who were jogging after you, whistling and calling out to get your attention. Wounding your hand firmly around the strap of your purse, you kept your head down and kept walking, hoping you’d lose them when you rounded the corner.

You were close to your apartment but you were too fearful to go into the building, not wanting the duo to know where you lived. Before you could continue walking, one of the guys appeared in front of you with a wide grin on his face.

He reeked of liquor.

“Hey beautiful, what’s the hurry?” he taunted as he took a step closer to you, making you scrunch up your nose at the smell. You tried to take a step back, but walked right into the chest of the other guy who grabbed onto your shoulders to keep you in place.

Fear settled in your chest, causing you to freeze on the spot as the guy in front of you twirled a lock of your hair around his finger. He was getting closer and you squeezed your eyes shut as he grabbed onto your hips, his breath hot on your face as his lips were only inches away from yours.

You braced yourself for the disgusting feeling of having a kiss forced on your lips, but instead the guy in front of you was ripped away, making the one that stood behind you gasp out loud.

Opening your eyes, you couldn’t help but gasp as well as one of your assaulters was planted against the wall trapped by white webs.

Spider webs.

You weren’t a complete fool – you were very aware who those webs belonged to and what this meant. Everyone knew who Spiderman was, just not who was behind the mask and whole get up.

You always loved reading about the city’s own personal hero in the papers, but there were enough people who weren’t such big fans. Who ever was hidden underneath the spandex bodysuit seemed rather young and sometimes even a bit unexperienced – often times, New York’s superhero found himself at the wrong place at the wrong time, which made it easy for people to judge and put the blame on him.

“Now that’s no way to treat a lady,” the aforementioned masked man chirped happily as he stepped forward, tilting his head to you and the guy behind you. You were quick to step aside, allowing him to trap the other guy as well as he shot his web out to him, pretty much mummifying him aside from his eyes and nose.

“You can’t do this, crawler asshole!” the guy at the wall yelled, trying to free his way out of the webs as he rubbed his shoulders against it but it didn’t seem to do anything for him. The other guy tried to jump away, but fell to the ground with a loud groan instead.

“I just did,” Spiderman shrugged, letting out a laugh as he walked over to you to grab your purse from the pavement and hand it to you. He grabbed your hand and waved at the guys before he tugged you along.

Flabbergasted, you followed.

You’d be lying if you’d say you hadn’t fantasized about this once or twice. Despite having no idea what he really looked like, you had a bit of a crush on the local hero. He was brave enough to go into burning buildings, kind enough to help cats out of trees and now that you had the chance to look at him from up close, the suit did great things for his ass.

“Are you okay?” he asked as you stopped running when you were far away enough, letting go of your hand. He turned to look at you, having to remind himself that you had no idea who he really was.

And that you could never find out.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.. Thank you,”

There was no way for you to see through the fabric of his suit, but when you stared at him with wide eyes, he couldn’t help but get a little nervous. In reality, you were admiring the details on his mask.

“You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone at this time. It’s dangerous, you know?” he spoke up, snapping you out of your staring spell as he rocked back and forth on his feet.

You nodded, hoping he didn’t see the flush on your face. Clearing your throat a little, you looked back at the cat-like eyes that were sewn on his mask.

“How did you know where I was?”

It didn’t matter if he’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time on some occassions, he was still there. And he was still helping people, saving lives even.

Maybe some situations weren’t as spectacular as others–you were sure he didn’t get an adrenaline kick out of saving helpless girls that were too stubborn to let themselves be walked home by a friend–but he always seemed to know whenever something was going on.

“Eh..” he scratched the back of his head, letting out a soft laugh. He tried to raise his voice a little as he spoke, hoping he didn’t sound the same as he did when he was out of his suit. “I have the ability to sense.. danger, I guess,”

He shrugged his shoulders once before he gave you a quick wave, turning around to walk away from you.

You weren’t giving up so easily, running after him. He knew you’d follow – and he didn’t need to use his senses for that.

“Like a sixth sense kind of thing?”

“Something like that,” he nodded, crossing the street in the direction of your apartment building when you pointed him the way. He tried to let you lead, making you think he had no idea where you lived.

“Did that come with the suit?” you blurted out, pushing him on questions he didn’t want to give an answer to. Things he couldn’t give an answer to – he had only been crowned with the title Spiderman for a few months and he was still trying to figure this whole thing out himself.

The suit was a design he made himself. He couldn’t exactly fly through the air as himself during the day, because none of the powers he possessed came with the suit. The webs came from his own wrists.

“No.. it didn’t,” he stopped walking as you did, looking at the door that led into the building’s lobby. “Is this where you live?”

You nodded, smiling brightly at him as he turned his head to look at you. You couldn’t even make eye contact with the guy, you didn’t even know who he was but you had already jumped forward to wrap your arms around him.

He was taken back by your actions for a second, but as you squeezed him in your embrace, he chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you again, Spiderman,” you sighed happily as you let him go, walking toward the door. He coughed a little, thanking God that you weren’t able to see how red his face was.

“Any time! Just… try to stay out of trouble,” he joked, saluting you with a soft laugh before he ran across the street and flung a web against the fire escape of one of the apartment buildings, flying up into the dark sky and disappearing out of your sight.

 

You had been talking about your meeting with Spiderman for weeks now. And while Elvis found it flattering at first, it was driving him absolutely nuts at this point.

If only you would replace the name Spiderman with his own…

“Will you ever stop talking about this dude? You don’t even know what he looks like,” your raven haired best friend mumbled from the couch he was laying on, zapping through the channels on the TV.

You stopped dancing around the room, falling onto your knees next to the couch to look at him with an angry glare. “When you love someone, it doesn’t matter what they look like, Elvis,”

He turned his attention to you instead of the TV and raised his eyebrows, trying not to blush at your words.

Love?

You loved him?

Well, you loved Spiderman, but seeing he was your masked crush, it got his heart jumping for joy.

“He helped you from a bunch of drunkards once and you love him? You’re such a child,” he laughed, hoping he didn’t sound too obvious as he flicked his finger against your forehead.

He earned a slap from you immediately before you rubbed your forehead and got up, placing your hands on your hips.

“I get it,” you grinned at him, sticking your hip out. “You’re just jealous that he has girls all over the city swooning over him and you can’t keep a girlfriend for longer than two weeks,”

Your words were true – he never lasted longer in a relationship than a few weeks. But it wasn’t because he wasn’t able to be a good boyfriend, he could be a perfect one, it was just that he didn’t have time. He was falling extremely behind on his school work, he definitely didn’t have time to go on dates and remember anniversaries.

It was one of the reasons why he hadn’t confessed his feelings to you and he probably never would. Not only would he barely have time for you, he also did not want to put you in any danger. He wasn’t only just helping people from petty store robberies during the day, but he was helping the police with more serious stuff as well.

Just because he was living two lives didn’t mean you had to. He didn’t want to burden you with carrying his secret around.

“He’s not as cool as people think, you know?” Elvis huffed as he folded his arms against his chest, looking back at the TV to avoid eye contact. Once again, you blocked his view as you sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing him.

“Do you think it’s true what people are saying about him? The.. the bad things?”

You didn’t believe the papers, especially not the Daily Bugle, when they’d publish anything negative about Spiderman.

Elvis threw the remote to the other side of the couch and sat up, facing you as he leaned forward with his arms on his knees. “No, I don’t. He might be a fool in a mask, but he’s not a bad guy,”

“But you don’t think he’s cool either,” you teased with a smile on your face, making him roll his eyes as he chuckled.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one who’s in love with him,”

“Not in love!”

“But you just said-“

“I have a.. crush.. maybe, argh, I don’t know!” you laughed as you slapped his arm, hiding your face in your hands. “You probably think I’m an idiot.. but.. I can’t forget about that night. He doesn’t even know me, but he.. he saved me,”

Elvis wanted to tell you that that was his job, that Spiderman was supposed to save and help people but he didn’t want to jinx himself or whatsoever.

If he’d talk badly about himself, about himself as Spiderman, the possibility to drive you away could be big. He knew that once you had your mind set on something or someone, there was no way to talk you out of it.

He sighed softly as he slipped his hands in yours, squeezing them softly as he smiled at you. “I was messing with you, Y/N. I don’t think you’re an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at your hands as he entertwined your fingers together. “Just promise me you won’t do anything reckless to get his attention, okay? If you finish late shifts, call me and we’ll walk home together,”

You met his eyes when he looked back up at you, nodding your head. You gave him your promise, but he should’ve known you weren’t going to stick by your word this time.

 

Elvis wasn’t just fighting crime anymore, he had officially become your own personal saviour as well. You’d get yourself in trouble and dangerous situations any chance you got and he knew you were doing it on purpose.

Ever since he was bitten by a genetically engineered “super spider” during a project he was working on in the genetics lab of Columbia, he obviously gained the inhuman strength and skills that made it possible for him to do what he did. But he also gained a certain… third eye.

A sixth sense, of sorts.

A spider sense – he could sense danger coming before it even happened and when it came to you, it seemed to grow stronger.

He didn’t know if it was because he had known you for years already or because his feelings for you were so strong, but he couldn’t ignore it.

Couldn’t ignore the tingle he felt every time you needed his help.

 

The time it happened again, he was laying in a hammock created out of his own webs, swaying from side to side on top of the Empire State building. It had been a quiet night so far which was rare for New York and while he could be using this free time to help Joe on their still on-going project, he’d much rather be lazy with a great view of the city.

He didn’t have much time to relax, though. As soon as he sensed that something was up with you again, rain started trickling onto his skintight suit and he quickly made his way down.

Following his instinct, it didn’t take him long to find you.

The soft drizzle had turned into a harsh downpour as you were making your way home from the coffee shop you just ended a late shift at. Once more, you heard multiple footsteps following you but this time, you didn’t freak out.

This is what you wanted – even though you had no idea if Spiderman was even close, you knew he’d show up.

He always did.

Four men were behind you, calling out to you but instead of running and losing them, you wandered into an alley with a dead end.

“You seem willing,” one of the men grinned, nudging the one next to him.

“Means she’ll be easy,” the other one laughed and you laughed along with them, kicking the man in front of you in the balls before you swung your purse at the other. You were about to have a go at the third and fourth one as well, but as they pushed you against the wall and ripped your coat off, all four of them were thrown across the alley.

In the darkness and due to the heavy rain, you could only make out the silhouette of your hero that was hanging sideways on the wall by just his feet, but you knew exactly who it was.

Your heart skipped in excitement as you watched him fight off the trouble makers, knocking them unconscious in just a matter of seconds.

Elvis stood and looked at you, completely forgetting about the fact his mask was up to his forehead. You couldn’t make out his face but as you came closer, he quickly jumped in the shadows and you completely lost him.

Before you had time to be disappointed or the chance to call out his name, he appeared behind you – face covered by his mask now, hanging upside down from a string of web.

“You have a knack for gettin’ in trouble,” he spoke up, making you turn around with a laugh.

He forced himself to keep looking at your face, rather than at your soaked t-shirt which left absolutely nothing to the imagination since you weren’t wearing a bra.

“You have a knack for saving my life,” you countered back, grinning at him proudly. “I think I have a superhero stalker,”

“I was in the neighborhood,”

You smiled softly, sighing dreamily as you looked at his mask’s eyes with hearts basically popping out of yours. “You are… amazing,”

“Some people don’t think so,” he sighed, his heart clenching in his chest.

“But I do,”

“It’s nice.. to have a fan,” he whispered, but despite his face being covered and the sound of rain falling down on you two, you could hear him perfectly clear. You laughed softly at his words, biting your lip.

“Let me thank you properly this time,”

He gasped softly as you reached your hands out to his neck, your fingertips slipping underneath the hem of his mask. “W-Wait..”

You ignored him and he didn’t stop you when you pulled the fabric down the lower half of his face, keeping his nose and eyes covered. He inhaled a breath of air as you leaned in and although it wouldn’t matter, his eyes fluttered shut nonetheless.

With your hands placed on his cheeks, you tilted your head a little and deepened the kiss as soon as you felt his tongue against yours. The position wasn’t the most comfortable for him and it felt rather weird to kiss someone like this, but you didn’t care. Finally, you got what you wanted.

Still, you wanted more but ofcourse, you weren’t foolish enough to think you were going to get it. The kiss only made your little crush on the hero grow tenfold, but it could never work.

Despite you not caring much about someone’s appearance, you had no idea what he looked like. You had no idea what his personality was like, but you knew in your heart he wasn’t a bad person.

Still, being in a relationship with a hero… it sounded like a dream, and you figured that was all it was and ever would be.

Pulling back from the kiss, you smiled brightly and pulled his mask back up. He shivered once at the feeling of your fingertips caressing the side of his face – reaching his hand that he wasn’t hanging from out to your face, he gently tapped the tip of your nose before he pulled himself up and as always, disappeared into the night.

At this rate, you were never going to get in Spiderman’s pants. Or rather, suit.

But maybe that was for the best. Even though you liked to believe that you could get everything you wanted in life, it was time for you to get back to reality.

 

While you were still very much interested in Spiderman, you figured it’d be best to stop talking about him every five minutes to the people around you. You were starting to look like a lovesick teenager, a very foolish one.

Elvis didn’t know if he should be happy about this or not. Part of him knew it was for the best for you to stop crushing on Spiderman, but the other part of him wanted you to keep gushing about his masked version.

He decided not to bring up the topic, trying to think with the rational part of his brain.

Elvis had no idea that you were getting suspicious of him. He should’ve known he couldn’t keep something big like this a secret forever, especially not to someone who he was living with.

Due to you having more free time than Elvis, because for some reason he was gone most hours of the day, you took the task of keeping the apartment clean upon you. You had been friends with him for so long that neither of you cared about you going into his room to tidy up the place or about you doing his laundry, including his underwear.

He’d usually wear his suit under his clothing or keep it stashed in his bag that he took to class–whenever he did go to class–but he had completely forgotten about laundry day.

Laundry day.

To say you you were surprised or shocked when you saw the red and blue suit and mask in his laundry basket, would be an understatement. You were close to losing your damn mind, the realisation that you kissed your best friend settling in.

The realisation that you were in love with your best friend settling in.

Elvis was Spiderman.

After asking yourself a million questions and talking to yourself while pacing through the entire apartment, you washed the suit before neatly hanging it in his closet.

You knew the truth and Elvis knew that you knew, but neither of you ever spoke about it.

 

Movie nights were rare for you and Elvis ever since he became pretty much the most important person in the city. For once, he decided to stay home with you rather than swinging from building to building because despite having stamina for days, he too got tired every once in a while.

And he missed his best friend.

Other than feeling a little awkward around each other after the laundry incident, things went back to normal pretty fast. You both figured that if you wouldn’t speak of it, it never happened.

But neither of you could get it out of your head.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your best friend and roommate was Spiderman and that you had been looking at him differently ever since.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you knew his biggest secret and what kind of risks that could come with it, but also about how you kissed him and you now knew it was him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Elvis questioned after you had turned your head for the 6th time, looking at him with concetration written over your features.

You were sat in the arm chair to his right as he was laying on his side on the couch, elbow propped up to hold his head in his hand. He couldn’t focus on the movie at all because you were anything but slick with your actions, shamelessly staring at him whenever his eyes were on the TV across from you.

“I want to test something,” you spoke determinedly as if you had finally made a decision on whatever you had been cooking up in that head of yours.

“T-Test... something?”

You nodded once, sitting up straight in yours seat before you got on the floor, waddling closer to him on your knees. “Just.. just put your head back,”

There really was no need for you to kiss your best friend to test if he really was Spiderman, because you were already certain about it, but he was already doing what you told him to do and backing out now would make you regret it later. Besides, Elvis had really pretty lips that you had always wanted to kiss but never had the chance to.

At least, not without a mask.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered as he laid his head against the arm rest of the couch, looking up at you as you hovered above him from where you were still on your knees behind him.

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes before he had rolled them playfully at you.

He had no idea what you were up to, until he felt your gentle hands finding their place on his cheeks and your lips against his.

Just like that one rainy night, the two of you were sharing another upside down kiss but this time he reached his hand up to place it on the back of your head, pushing you down further against him to deepen the kiss.

You ignored the funny feeling of your nose rubbing against his chin and moved one hand down to his jaw, caressing his skin with your nails.

Perhaps you were imagining it, but you could’ve sworn you were brought right back to that night in the alley. A tingle of electricity traveled down your spine, nearly making you shiver and although you did not want to pull back, you did at the realisation of what you were doing and with who.

Your eyes met as he looked up at you, his fingers slowly letting go of your hair as he moved his hand back down. “Did you find the answer you were looking for?”

The answer was so obvious. This whole thing was so obvious, but both you and Elvis were idiots.

Two idiots who were scared and in love.

“I think I did,” you whispered, removing your hands from his face as you sat back on your knees. He slowly turned around to lay on his stomach, making proper eye contact with you this time.

The tension in the room was so thick it was nearly palpable and it thickened even more as he reached out his hand to your face, letting his fingertips follow your jawline. You could see he wanted to open his mouth and speak, but a siren wailing somewhere outside got his ears perking up.

“I… I have to go,”

You nodded your head, watching him get up and disappear into his room after he pressed a firm kiss on your forehead.

When you climbed out of the window in the living room and stepped onto the fire escape, you watched your best friend fling himself down the street – his cheerful hollering echoeing through the air.

 

Elvis wasn’t just fighting small crimes or returning lost bikes anymore. The Daily Bugle’s publisher Jameson wasn’t his only ‘enemy’ anymore he realised as he was face to face with a creature that was tearing his city down that same night you and him shared another kiss.

He didn’t even have time to daydream about you as he’d fly through the air, having to go in full fight mode. He was just praying you wouldn’t turn on the TV.

He had no idea where his opponent came from or what he even was, but he had some nasty tricks up his sleeve that Elvis wasn’t prepared for. This definitely was something else than what he usually did, but thanks to his senses, he was able to dodge most objects that were thrown at him.

Though as a pink beaming grenade was tossed his way, he caught it in a reflex. Raising an eyebrow at his beaten down enemy, he tilted his head as he threw the grenade that was beeping up in the air before catching it again.

“What’s this, princess? Fairy dust?”

The mutated guy on the ground laugh – you know, the typical evil laugh. Elvis wasn’t phased by it.

“Something like that,”

Elvis watched the guy saluting him before disappearing into thin air.

Civilians and the police were surrounding him, cheering him on as they chanted his name. One of the officers nodded at him thankfully, but the grenade started ticking more frantically and instead of destroying it before it could explode, Elvis shot out a web toward the New York Times tower and got himself and the grenade away from the crowd.

As he got to the top of the building, the grenade exploded like clock work. Clouds of pink fog surrounded him, seeping through the material of his suit and making him fall into a coughing fit. With no one around to see him, he ripped his mask off his face and stumbled backwards a little, dropping the now empty grenade to his feet as he waved his arms around to open the thick fog.

Shit.

He knew exactly what this was. As a science major, and one that was not just a regular human anymore, he had done plenty of research on things that weren’t even supposed to exist.

This was one of those things he considered to be a weapon against him.

Freaking sex pollen.

It came in a lot of different shapes and forms and while he had always thought the most common form was a plant, he was greatly mistaken. The whole thing and its side effects could be somewhat compared to viagra, but this was so much more intense.

It came with a fever, hallucinations, extreme pain and death.

So, way more intense than a tiny blue pill.

He cursed as he could already feel his blood rushing through his veins, making its way to his lower region as his skin heated up underneath his suit. He pulled down his mask, jumping down the building – he let himself fall down for a few seconds, hoping the pressure of the fall would somehow help him get rid of the boner that was starting to come on.

It didn’t.

He shot out a web against the next building, swinging his way home.

 

He was close to your shared apartment until the hallucinations started. Ones that all involved you.

He could hear your voice in his head, moaning and whining as he pictured you arching your back for him underneath him while tangled up in his sheets. At one point, he could’ve sworn he saw you standing in the middle of the street butt naked when he looked down, calling out his name.

It made him completely forget to shoot out another web as he was flying through the air and he was too late to catch himself, landing loudly on top of a parked car which he immediately rolled off of, falling face, and hips, first onto the pavement.

He groaned in pain, rolling on his back as he put his legs up, covering the vicious bulge in his suit with his hands.

“Yo, Spidey! Are you okay, man?” A pedestrian called out to him, having stopped walking.

Elvis shot up from the ground, trying not to cry out at the quick movements. He put his hands on top of the car he just landed on, his body luckily hidden by the vehicle as the guy who called out to him was on the other side of the street.

“Y-Yeah, man! I’m good!” he nodded, putting his thumb up. The guy hesitated for a second but then gave him a smile and continued on his way. Elvis banged his fist against the vehicle, accidentally triggering the alarm this time.

Before the civilian could turn around to see what was happening once more, Elvis had already disappeared.

 

You were pacing in the living room, nervously listening to the reporter talking on the TV that was filling the people in on what happened at Times Square tonight. Now that you actually knew who was hidden behind the red mask, you were scared for your best friend’s life.

You literally saw him swinging away with a grenade in his hand – what if it exploded in his face? What if he was dead?

No no no, he couldn’t be dead. Elvis couldn’t be dead.

There was a loud bang coming from his room, making you let out a little shriek. You immediately ran to the door, but as you tried to open it, Elvis’ desk that he pushed in front of the door blocked it.

“Elvis!” you yelled, banging your fists on the door like a maniac. “Let me in! Now!”

He groaned as he pulled his mask off his face to fling it across the room. Reaching his arms behind his back, he struggled as he was trying to pull the fabric off his sweaty skin.

“G-Go away, Y/N!” he grunted as he stumbled against the wall, his vision blocked by his clothing as it got stuck in the process of being removed.

He was heating up, his cock throbbing in the confinements of his tight suit – and it hurt. It hurt so much that tears were burning in his eyes.

“I swear I will break down this door,” you threatened in a panic as you were shaking the doorknob now, pushing your shoulder against the door.

He realised you were stronger than you looked, making the desk rumble a little bit with your force.

He managed to get the top half of his suit off, throwing it to the floor. When you managed to push the desk back far enough to create an entrance wide enough for you to squirm through, you stepped into his very messy but very empty room.

You looked around, rubbing your arm you had used to force the door open with. You could sense he was in the room and when you decided to look up, you met the panicked blues of your best friend as he was stuck against the wall by his hands and feet.

He jumped down, landing easily on his feet but you didn’t miss the way he winced at the movement. As your eyes traveled down his chest and down his hips, you could see the outline of his cock in the skintight fabric.

“You… are you… Elvis, you have a…”

“I know!” he groaned as he walked by you, letting himself fall on his bed. He turned his back to you and if you didn’t see the sweat on his back and the way he was shivering, you would’ve laughed at him.

Maybe he got off on being the hero. Maybe danger got him horny, but then again, he shouldn’t be having this kind of reaction.

Slowly making your way over to him, you placed your hand on his shoulder to turn him around and gasped softly as you felt his skin was unusually hot.

He could feel his blood boiling, a feeling that was very foreign to him and it scared him to death. And if he wouldn’t do something about this boner, he would die.

Like, really die – unless he fucked someone.

But he couldn’t ask that of you. You kissed him twice by now, but that didn’t mean you had the same feelings he did. It didn’t mean that you wanted to sleep with him.

“Can you go away, please?” he was dying to get out of the pants part of his suit, which were becoming tighter by the second.

“No,” you said, placing both hands on his arm now to turn him around. As you succeeded and he laid on his back, he looked at you with a trembling lower lip and tears in his eyes. The sight broke your heart. “What happened out there, Elvis? You’re fighting this.. monster and the next second you’re flying away with a grenade in your hand. I thought you were dead!”

“And I will be soon!” he exclaimed in frustration as he shot up, whining as he did so. He crawled away from you, leaning his back against the wall his bed was perched up against. He stretched his legs, putting his hands on his crotch.

“W-what? What are you talking about? Please, will you just explain what the fuck is going on?!” you yelled back at him, equally as frustrated.

“I’m Spiderman,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he looked away from you.

“Well, duh. I meant with that freaky bomb, you idiot,”

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head still turned away from you as he leaned it against the wall.

“It wasn’t.. w-wasn’t just a normal bomb,” he grunted softly, trying to steady his breathing but he couldn’t stop his chest from heaving up and down rapidly. “It’s this… this thing. S-sex pollen.. it causes..” he slowly turned his head back to you, removing his hands as he pointed at himself. “this,”

“O-okay… that looks.. uncomfortable. But why would you die? Can’t you just jerk it off in the shower?”

“I wish,” he scoffed, shaking his head. He winced as you sat on the other side of his bed, the dipping of the mattress alerting his senses. “I have.. h-have to, God I can’t believe I’m about to say this… I have to fuck someone,”

You froze in your spot as silence lingered between the two of you aside from the sounds of his erratic breathing.

Here he was, your best friend that you definitely did not see as just a friend anymore. And Spiderman, the hero that you had been crushing on for months like a lovesick school girl.

You cared about Elvis. Loved him. You couldn’t just sit back and watch him die, knowing that you could quite literally save his life.

“I’ll do it,” you blurted out.

He widened his eyes as he looked at you, his heartbeat quickening even more.

“N-No, Y/N. I can’t ask that of you,” he swallowed as he shook his head, slowly getting up from the bed. He could barely stand on his feet, the very uncomfortable erection he was sporting making it hard for him to walk and his body felt heavy as if he was being pulled down by a ton of bricks. “I might hurt you,”

You watched him stumble over to his desk, leaning over it with his ass sticking out into your direction.

That suit really did do wonders for his figure.

Shaking that thought away, you got up from the bed and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “El, I can’t let you die,” you whispered, taking a step closer to try and look at him. “You saved me so many times. Let me be the hero this time,”

He laughed softly at your words, head hanging low as he squeezed his eyes shut. If only he had been giving other girls around him some more attention – then he’d have someone else to call and solve this problem right now.

But then again, he wouldn’t want anyone else in his bed. Sure, he dated around a little and had sex before, but he had been in love with you ever since he laid eyes on you.

His friends called him an idiot, telling him that you didn’t feel the same and he was aware of that. He was aware of the guys you’d bring over when you thought he was sleeping, he was the one who’d have to sit on the couch with your dates while you were still getting ready.

Maybe he was an idiot for hoping, wishing and waiting around, but he didn’t care. He loved you.

And because he loved you, he was about to open his mouth and reject your offer once more – until he suddenly felt your lips pressed against his shoulder.

The feeling got the hairs on the back of his neck standing up right, making him open his eyes and stand up straight. He stumbled backwards, a tear rolling down his cheek.

“Elvis, please! I hate seeing you in pain,” your voice was soft and gentle, but he could hear the hint of frustration lingering on the back of your tongue. “I’m not going to let you die. I love you and I-“

As soon as you told him you loved him, his cock twitched in his suit, goosebumps covering his arms.

Fuck it.

Striding forward, he grabbed your face and harshly crashed his lips onto yours, ready to get the relief you were offering him.

 

Elvis was laying on his back, the rest of his suit discarded somewhere on the floor, hands clawing at the sheets. With your naked body pressed against his side and your hand wrapped firmly around his cock, he could barely keep himself from writhing on the bed.

“P-Please,” he whimpered, turning his head to look at you, his lips desperately pressing against your cheek as you were looking at his weeping cock in your hand, admiring the view. “A-Another t-time, baby, please. I need you,”

You looked at him, your cheeks flushed slightly as you nodded. You wanted to take your time, admire and explore every inch of his body, but you realised the situation wasn’t exactly ideal for that.

“Sorry,” you whispered with a soft chuckle, allowing him to push you back on the mattress by your shoulders. You looked up at him as he hovered above you now, biting your lip as he reached a hand in between your bodies to run his digits through your folds.

As he felt how wet you were, his lips curled up in a grin.

“You’re so sick,” he hummed as he caressed your parted lips with his own, speaking his next words into your mouth. “You like seeing your best friend in pain, huh?”

You laughed softly, responding to him by sneaking your tongue in his mouth and kissing him sloppily which he happily went along with.

Even in the state he was in, he still wanted this to be enjoyable for you as well but you knew he was struggling. You could hear it in the way he was breathing hard in your mouth and feel it in the way his hips bucked forward every time you moaned.

“Elvis,” you breathed as you pulled back from the kiss, wiping a tear from his cheek with your thumb. “Please fuck me already,”

You gave him a nod, confirming once more that you were more than okay with this when he was about to ask if you were sure. He sighed deeply and removed his hand from your pussy, wrapping it around his cock instead – he groaned deeply as his fingers that were covered in your arousal slipped over his cock so easily, only adding fuel to the fire in his bones.

Tonight you learned that Spiderman didn’t wear any underwear underneath his suit and you made a mental reminder to tease him about it later, but as soon as Elvis situated himself at your entrance and pushed his hips forward, the thought was long forgotten.

Gasping, you looked up at him as you grabbed onto his shoulders, walls spasming firmly around him because of the sudden intrusion.

“Oh my fucking God,” his eyes rolled in the back of his head, his arms that he was holding himself up with trembling as he squeezed the sheets in his palms. “So tight.. Jesus.. I won’t.. w-won’t be able to last long,”

You were aware that this had little to do with equal pleasure and everything with him just needing to spill his load.

He was keeping still when he bottomed out inside of you, still thinking about you, but as soon as you wrapped your legs around him and hooked your ankles together to trap him, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

He couldn’t stop the beast from coming out.

His thrusts were never gentle because at the first stroke of your velvety walls, he was an absolute goner.

You couldn’t keep quiet even if you tried. With the way he was pounding into you and making the bed creak forcefully underneath your bodies, he was unknowingly to himself hitting the right spot every single time. Running your hands through his hair, you looked up at him with your face contorted in pleasure, breasts bouncing with every thrust.

He was losing his mind. He was losing his fucking mind and control. But you didn’t stop him as he moved one hand to your neck, squeezing softly and stealing your breath away.

“Look at you,” he grinned, his hips never faltering as he looked down at you with wild eyes. “So fucking ready to be fucked. You’re a little slut, aren’t you?”

You gasped as he moved his fingers up, holding onto your jaw to keep your head from moving and you let him. Both you and him were surprised by the words leaving his mouth, but they made you clench around him harshly.

“My little slut. Spiderman’s little slut,” he growled in your mouth as he forced his tongue into your mouth, which you gladly allowed. Your nails were digging into his flesh, breaking skin and drawing blood and it only motivated him to thrust harder.

You wanted to keep kissing him, but with the way his hand around your throat was squeezing harder and his weight he put on you, it was getting hard to breathe properly. You managed to slightly turn your head and he moved his hand up to your hair, tangling his fingers in it as he kissed his way down to your neck, sucking on your soft skin to create several hickeys.

Tears stung in your eyes and you were putting pornstars to shame with the sounds that left you, feeding his ego.

While Elvis enjoyed your cries and screams, your neighbors most certainly didn’t. Banging came from the other side of his wall, but Elvis never stopped. Instead, he quickly reached for the red fabric of his mask that he noticed laying on the ground next to the bed. Without warning, he shoved it in your mouth and you widened your eyes at him, whining.

Right now, the Elvis that you had always known was nowhere to be seen. He was always your goofy best friend, sticking his nose into books and science researches or hiding behind his camera.

The boy next door type of guy.

You wondered if it was because of the sex pollen that made him act like this, but you weren’t complaining. You’d be a fool to. You had slept with plenty of other people, but this was the best fuck you had ever had in your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit down on the mask, holding onto his upper arms while he was grunting and growling above you. His fever was going down more and more, but even in the delirious state he was in, he was smart enough to pull out of you as he felt his climax nearing. You quickly opened your eyes to look at him as jerked himself off with a quick hand, warm spurts of cum landing on your stomach and in between your breasts.

It took him a few seconds to empty himself completely thanks to those evil pollen and you were sure it was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

Truly a sight for sore eyes.

A chill trickled down his spine and it made him visibly shiver, hips stuttering a little as he looked down at you with dazed eyes. He looked completely fucked out with his raven locks messy and sticking up and it made your heart skip. Never in a million years had you expected to fuck your best friend tonight–or ever for that matter.

You were happy it happened and you didn’t want this to be the last time, but you had no idea where his mind was at.

You weren’t actually aware that he was madly in love with you and you realised that what you just did was needed in order for him to make it until tomorrow. Still, an uncomfortable knot found its way in your tummy – you felt used.

Maybe this had been a mistake.

As he let himself fall next to you in his small bed, you took his mask out of your mouth and dropped it to the floor, the both of you staring up at the ceiling.

“At least your sperm is… normal,” you broke the silence, letting out an awkward laugh as you tried to swallow the lump that was forming in your throat.

He turned his head to look at you, noticing the flush that was still on your cheeks, traveling down to your neck. Although he had never seen you after sex, he knew it wasn’t because of what they just did. He knew you longer than today.

“Are you.. are you crying?” he whispered, propping himself up on his elbow to have a better look at your face. You immediately turned away, quickly wiping a stray tear that managed to roll down your cheek away.

“No,” you immediately said, sitting up as you grasped your clothes from the floor. Not caring about his cum still on your skin, you quickly got dressed and walked to his bedroom door.

He should stop you. He needed to stop you, but he didn’t. Instead, he said something that made it impossible for you to look at him as tears blurred your vision.

“T-Thank you… for helping me,”

You left the room, leaving Elvis behind with the same knot in his stomach.

 

Elvis lost you.

He lost you and it was all his own goddamn fault.

After that night, he should’ve just come clean about his feelings. He should’ve told you that he had been in love with you for years and that you belong with him… but he didn’t.

The world got more dangerous every day and he was afraid of the consequences of you and him being together. He was starting to get enemies, real bad people with real bad intentions, and once they’d found out about you.. that would mean he had a weak spot.

You were his weak spot.

He would never forgive himself if anything happened to you but he also couldn’t handle when you started getting more and more distant. And when he came home after class one afternoon and saw half of your wardrobe empty, he nearly trashed the entire house.

Enemies be damned, he couldn’t let you walk out of his life. Not like this.

He didn’t want you to become the biggest ‘what if’ in his life.

He immediately interrogated Joe, knowing that he was one of the people you were closest with among your mutual friends, and when Elvis found out you were planning on leaving New York, he didn’t hesitate to go after you.

He didn’t care if he had to search the whole city.

 

You were still in New York, stuck in traffic with a very chatty taxi driver, next to the East River.

After what happened the night you slept with Elvis, you were hurt. You were finally realising you were in love with him, but the harsh reality of him not feeling the same was something you couldn’t accept. It was safe to say you didn’t take rejection very well.

Ofcourse you weren’t planning on simply ghosting your best friend, but you needed some time away from New York and spend some time back home with your family to lick your wounds.

“Hey, it’s Spiderman!” the taxi driver exclaimed happily, pointing at the Brooklyn Bridge on your left. You frowned, leaning forward in your seat to have a better look at the huge webbed letters on the side of the bridge.

Those three words he had always been afraid to say.

I love you.

You were smiling like a fool, tapping the driver’s shoulder.

“Stop the cab,”

“Lady, I ain’t even driving,” the driver laughed as you got out of the car, manoeuvring your way through the other vehicles that were stuck in traffic.

As you stood on the side walk by the river, tears were stinging in your eyes. You could hear people chanting on your right and when you turned your head, you saw Spiderman himself swinging at you in full force.

You couldn’t do anything but reach your arms out, clinging onto him for dear life as he wrapped an arm around your waist and literally swept you off of your feet.

 

“Hi,” he breathed as the two of you stood on the very top of the Brooklyn Bridge, his arms firmly wrapped around your waist.

“Hi,” you laughed as you pulled his mask off, clenching it in your hand as your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“Did you get my message?”

“What message?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours as you giggled. “That was you? I couldn’t make it out,” you teased, staring into his eyes instead of looking down at the ground.

“I’ll tell you what it says,” he smiled, pushing you closer against his chest. “It says I love you. Because I love you,”

A tear rolled down your cheek, but you were too afraid to let him go and wipe it away. He did it for you, not caring about slightly salty taste as he kissed it away.

“I was wrong… I’ve been.. stupid to think we can’t be together, to think we’re on different paths. But you are my path and you’re always gonna be my path,” he closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, smiling softly.

He was out of breath, his heart racing with nerves but he came too far to back out now.

“I know there’s a million reasons why we shouldn’t be together, but I’m tired of ‘em. I’m tired of every single one of ‘em. We all gotta make a choice… and I choose you,”

His eyes were open again, looking right into yours as his lips curled up into smile. It felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders and God, it felt so damn good.

“I love you, Elvis,” you told him, laughing softly through your tears. “And not because of this suit.. not because you’re Spiderman. But because you are you and I love you, Elvis Presley,”

His cheeks were aching with how broad he was smiling and he relished in the feeling.

The two of you moved closer at the same time, lips crashing on each other’s. This time, you knew he wasn’t just kissing you because of an unfortunate case caused by any kind of pollen.

This time, you knew it was because he loved you.

“Are you still leaving?” he asked, his voice a whisper after he gently pulled back from the kiss. You sighed deeply, shaking your head with a smile on your face.

“I’m not,” you told him, pulling your face back from his as you pulled his mask over his face. He laughed as he fixed it to sit properly with one hand, his other arm wrapping firmer around your waist. “Take me home, Spidey,”

“Hold on tight, little one,” he grinned and as you were suddenly swinging through the air and away from the bridge, you were nearly screaming his ears off.

But you trusted Elvis. He’d never ever let you fall and you finally managed to open your eyes after a few minutes, mesmerized by the view of the city from so far above.

Perhaps your life would never be the same anymore, perhaps things would get harder, more dangerous.

But if it meant you’d finally have your happy ending with the man you loved, it was worth the risk.

[mazojo]

Winter 2022 Anime Opinions

As always my thoughts because no one asked

From least to fav here are my overall thoughts:

Urusei Yatsura (2022)

I am just not the target audience for this. This is probably a nostalgia ridden show that people who watched the original will love and enjoy but I am not that person and with the two eps I watched I had enough. The jokes were not funny to me all characters were annoying and yeah the animation is nice but I will not put myself through something I will not enjoy for it tbh. Watch it if you liked the original ig

Tonikaku Kawaii: SeifukU

I dislike tonikaku with a passion it gives go girl give us nothing to the negative 20 no flavor no taste still the same shiz as the show so yeah. Watch it if you liked the series lmao its more of the same

Shinobi no Ittoki

I guess…… Its really kinda bland and I can’t pinpoint why. The concept is interesting but it just doesn’t hold up in its execution and I dont care for it run sorry do better I guess

Fumetsu no Anata e 2nd Season

I try so hard to care, SO hard. Since season 1 I have found this show to be kinda…. All over. Like the only storyline I cared about was the one with the kid with the mask last season and since that its just been meh to me. Like, we already kinda know how everything is going to go and all the arcs are kinda the same, they show us someone, we care for them for like half an episode, they die, repeat.

Bocchi the Rock! 

I TRIES SO HARD TO CARE TOO I AM SO SORRY. This has been like the number 1 show this year but I… I dont know I just dont like it ASDFGHJ I am not a big fan of cute girls doing nothing specially mixed with the uwu social anxiety quirky. Like they dont paint it in a bad light like most shows do and the art style is very unique but I just dont… Give a shit adfgdhjf I tried I promise but hey if you are into this shows probs the one for you.

Mushikaburi-hime

This one is boring I am ngl. Its not bad but like… Its not good either. Ive seen this trope done SO many times its just boring. It hasn’t done anything bad per se but I just dont really care for it much. I like my romance with spicier ships so yeah I mean if you like cute royal same old same old couples then watch it.

Fuufu Ijou, Koibito Miman.

Do you like boobs????? Do you like boobs ON your screen for 23 minutes??????? Then you will for sure enjoy this one fellas! ASDFGHJ I… I am not the biggest fan of ecchi so this is a lot for me but hey if you like this fan service trash then you go bestie. Character design is cute I dont care for any characters as of the moment so yeah I guess its something

Chainsaw Man

This is the one that gets me cancelled ASDFGH. I am not going to say much other than I've never been a fan of chainsaw man since the manga and you can write me all the essays y'all want but I just.... Dont care sorry lol ADFSJAK Its just not for me; I am not saying its bad per se, I am just not the person that enjoys this type of shows. Akiangel as the only thing that matters of chainsaw man fr fr

Aru Asa Dummy Head Mic ni Natteita Ore-kun no Jinsei

This is trash but it goes higher just because Its what it is and delivers just what I expected. The reincarnated person is annoying as fuck but the girls have cute dynamics so that's why it goes higher. Its just 3 minutes skits of the girls being cute so yeah its okay

Koukyuu no Karasu

I feel like this is a good show but I am just not the target for this adsfgh its a show you gotta pay attention to understand and a lot of history goes behind it and it just kinda bored me but I know its not bad. I just dont think its for me but that's okay I might keep watching it.

Eternal Boys 

Its okay. Its a nice concept and I have only watched like 3 eps but its a nice message I guess. Its short and whatever so it doesn't take much time to watch but its not something revolutionary. I like idol shows so maybe I am giving it more than what it is.

Mob Psycho

This is the one that gets me cancelled part 2 SKSKSK. I am not going to lie besties, I am not the biggest mob psyhco fan. Its okay, I just never got into the hyper around it sorry :(( I really wish I could because I know its a good story and I ddi like that last episode a lot but like,,,,, I feel like the story was over last season ASDFGH But hey I am glad y'all enjoyed it a lot!

Boku no Hero Academia 6th Season

I am ngl, I am like on ep 2 of bnha season 6 but have seen the Dabi scene like 20 times thanks to social media and I got no choice but to Stan. I dont like this arc of bnha as y'all know but it seems more interesting than last season and I like the way the animation direction is going so I will give them points for it.

Do It Yourself!! 

Lesbians your honor!!!! I like this one! Its cute girls doing silly lil stuff and I am not a big fan of the genre like I said but this one is more entertaining for me, maybe because I am more into DIY shit but its cute!! Nothing big happens tbh but its a soft watch to put in the background if y'all enjoy this

Romantic Killer

This was cute! A refreshing romcom from the ones weve gotten recently tbh. I liked it even though I have a different interpretation of the road they took it in the end but it was a fun show to watch with some nice gags and cute characters, defo give it a go!

Renai Flops

Okay hear me out. This one is in a weird place but hear me out. I hate everything this anime stands for because it was such a cliche weird and ecchi but it was such an interesting train wreck I HAD to keep on watching every episode and when I least expected it I was suddenly on ep 6 and the twist left me screAmiNG. It kinda goes downhill again after ep 7 but just because it took me so off guard (dont wanna spoil it but aloO) it goes high up, gg 1 for the ecchi trash 0 for Maria this round.

Yowamushi Pedal: Limit Break

Ngl this season of yowapeda hasn't been as hyped as I hoped for me but I care so much about the characters I will place it high up SKSKSKSK its basically more of the same; I honestly miss the upperclassman a lot but its okay my babies appear like for .2 frames and I start sobbing

Akuyaku Reijou nano de Last Boss wo Kattemimashita 

okaY is this trash??? yes. Do I care??? nO. I LOVE MY SILLY LIL TROPES OKAY ITS FUNNY AND SILLY AND DUMB AND THEY ARE CUTE SO IT GOES UP OKAY I LIKE HAMEFURA WHAT DO YALL EXPECT FROM ME. still kinda trash but like, guilty pleasure trash.

4-nin wa Sorezore Uso wo Tsuku

THIS IS HOW YOU DO CUTE GIRLS (AND TSUKASA LY BESTIE) DOING CUTE STUFF IN A GOOD WAY. If you like Saiki K you'll like this show. I dont know how to explain it but it gives the energy from Saiki K and I loved it they are very important and relevant.

Spy x Family Part 2 

Its more of the same of part 1 y'all know spy x family its a good show I love them all I love when my families are found go stream it look at Bond and Anya being best family

Tiger & Bunny

The gays are back for more and better! Not my favorite season buT I still care about them all so much that I dont care SKSKSK go stream tiger & bunny I dont have much more to say

Cool Doji Danshi 

Do you love dumb people??? Me too! then this anime is for you ! Its silly short and goes to the point. It doesnt try to be something its not and I like my anime silly and dumb. If you are looking for something easy and silly watch this.

Blue Lock

Guys guys my favorite comfort soccer players are finally animated!!! Watch it. If y'all follow me y'all know I am annoying about blue lock. Its the only anime that has Bachira AND Reo imagine the odds!!! Its a great sports anime and the characters are great and I love it and its my comfort okay

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun 3rd Season

Lets all pretend for a second we are all surprised M!ik is number one woah Maria that is so weird your favorite manga animated as number one????? did not expect it that's wild. Anyways M!ik supremacy today tomorrow its the Lied arc and Iruma and that one episode were Iruma cries made me emo and I love it and I think you should all be super cool and interesting and go watch m!ik it would make us all a better society.

[sri-rachaa]

here with some oc asks!!!

if you already answered this somewhere, I apologize sksksk my memory is failing me

but, how did ah'den meet rennie and kaz? im gussing rennie and Paz knew each other before with them both being reapers, but how did the trio become a triooo 👀

TY RAEE (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

hehehehe THANK YOU HALA >:33 <33333

This is probably gonna be a long one, and a very lore heavy one. The backstory of Kaz / Ah'den and Kaz / Rennie in 1000 words.

(Apologies for not making it Rennie / Ah'den, alas Kaz/Rennie meeting plays a much larger part in the story ;u;)!

Ah'den meets Kaz first. 1944.

When a reaper is turned, one of three things can happen.

1. Their body immediately rejects their core, killing them within the first week.

2. Their body recognizes the fact that the core could potentially be dangerous if immediately acted upon, so it forces it to lie dormant for about a decade to only contribute to maintaining the body until its properly settled in and theres no possibility of the core overtaking the body.

3. The core does not lie dormant, overtakes the body and causes the reaper to go grim.

Kaz was the third case.

Only about a week or so of being turned, Cassius went grim; Grim being the state a reaper goes into when the core completely takes over their body and conscious, driving the reaper to do nothing but continuously kill to feed itself. Typically, when reapers go grim, their are immediately hunted down and killed- as every past case of reverting a reaper back to their humane form has ended in failure.

Although, when accruing who was going to uptake the mission, Ah'den actually intervened and proposed a plan for his own experiment:

Let him try to revert the reaper back to their original state. If it comes to it, and it fails, he'll take the responsibility of killing him himself.

And, well, His plan was approved. Ah'den hunted Kaz down, and after a bit of a fight and a goose chase was able to finally corner him in the proper place.

[Now, for the nitty gritty part of how he did it: Ah'den reverted to his own natural form, back into his plasma-like seraphic form, and quite literally reached into Cassius and tore his core out completely. He allowed a couple of minutes to pass for his body to reset, though not too much time for the left-over magic keeping his body alive to run out- then successfully put his core back into him.]

And, just like that, Ah’den successfully pulled off the impossible, and Cassius was back into his own mind.

The years following were rough for Kaz, as he remembered all the horrendous things he did as a reaper. Ah’den felt partly responsible for the fact Kaz has to experience such a load of guilt and thus decided to stay with him for a couple short years. To not get way too far into detail: What wasn’t exactly planned, though, was how close these two were going to grow in those short few years- and eventually those years grew way more than a few.

Kaz meets Rennie first. 2020.

Rennie becomes a reaper, and makes it past case 1 as mentioned above.

The first people to catch wind of a new reaper was an empowered government head and his office, him being a dream walker named Andrew Doxon. At the time, Kaz was currently working a mission alongside Han Sunja out in Europe- although by contract the government was required to notify Cassius immediately if any Reaper is found.

Andrew didn’t do that. Well, he made it seem like he did. Him and his office forged a rejection letter from Cassius, making it seem as though Kaz himself was notified and rejected taking Rennie under his wing in contrast to his contract. Instead, Andrew and his office blocked all communication from a new reaper being found from outside their immediate organization.

Why though?

Reapers are insane war machines. If you have a reaper on your side, you basically have the power at your fingertips. Except, other governments also had reapers as well, they needed something more than the typically reaper.

So they had a theory. Force a reaper to go grim, tame it, and use its power.

They kept their plans and plots secret from all other corners of the organization outside of Andrew’s immediate office, making it seem as if Renha at the time was being pushed through typical newborn reaper conditioning and training.

Rennie was the second case as I mentioned, where the core had laid dormant for protective measures. So, by constant rough and abusive training and provoking it, Andrew’s inevitable end game was to break that protective measure and through Rennie into the Grim stage.

Going through months of abusive “training”, Rennie started to notice very much something was wrong- so she had gone to the director of Seraphic and Reaper Operations, who she had become familiar with at this point, Genevieve La Fouriniere. She practically broke down in front of Genevieve, even admitting the things she wasn’t permitted to share- one of which being the Rejection Letter written and signed by Cassius Cage.

Genevieve knew Cassius. Since the day he was set under her watch after being reverted back by Ah’den in the 1940’s.

She knew him well. And she also knew there’s no way in hell he wrote that.

So. She whistle blew.

One letter, and one undercover plane ride across the Atlantic, her plan began to unfold.

So, That next week, when coming home, Rennie walked into her apartments kitchen- finding Cassius Cage leaning against her counter waiting for her.

And that’s where they met.

Again, to explain the aftermath of this would take another 1,000-2,000 words so ill withhold for today, but hopefully soon I’ll be able to elaborate further! :3

[dollwrites]

just wanted to stop by and say ILY ! I LOVE UR PFP TOO !!! i think about feitan— specifically during that fight— often and i do a little giggly leg wiggle bc he’s so >///< also that zeke fic you have looks delicious i can’t wait to devour it when i wake up tomorrow 😩 first few lines already have me tingling

ILY OMG

Yes FEITANNNN little short murderer 😭💚💚 I am on my knees

I think a lot about the auction scene where he’s like “family? What’s that? 😏” his little smirk is SO

Really really REALLY need to write for feitan he’s been on my radar for a while now!!

Omg please do let me know when you read it! I didn’t actually realize zeke is like… not very popular SKSKSK I was like hes a shitty little man and I want to fuck him

[hopegained]

name: en

pronouns:  they/them

preference of communication:  disco.rd imo but you're gonna have to @ me since i don't get the notifs

most active muse:  this idiot right here sir

experience / how many years: earlier than 2016, on and off again with an old friend not on tumblr and eron's been around the longest, but i started to really commit rping him on tumblr a year later lmao i did NOT know what i was getting myself into when t.lj came out 💀

platforms you use: mostly tumblr. i do write on d.iscord too but i'm way slower bc i keep forgetting

best experience: honestly? experiencing the sw celebration livestream in 2019 with friends and mutuals and how we were losing our minds over every trailer and announcement sksksks it was a different time

rp pet peeves: uhhh when people just don't read the rules lol or get very passive aggressive about interacting with ocs KNOWING damn well they followed you first??

fluff,   angst,   or smut: fluff after the angst. i wanna say smut too but i am terrible at writing it so i only write with close friends and would rather just share hcs instead

plots or memes: both!!! memes are great for first time interactions no matter the context and plotting can lead to so many more things. i do love to plot tho bc we can have a specific dynamic planned out between our muses. it might end up going nowhere but it's fun just sharing ideas with other people

long or short replies:  depends on the motivation i have the most for. i'm faster with short replies and asks but if you want me to match your 5+ paragraph reply, you're gonna have to give me time. it's the adhd.

best time to write: whenever my brain lets me

are you like your muses:  WELL. i am not a six foot tall white man but we do share traits and deeply personal issuesTM

tagged by: @percentstardust

tagging: if you see this you're tagged!!

[t-lostinworlds]

OKAY RANDOM STORY TIME, but earlier (and by that i mean 5am where i was just about to go to sleep) something fell down like REALLY LOUDLY down in my neighbours apartment? idk which one or which side but then there was banging down the hall? have know idea what they where up to but i got so scared for some reason? like maybe it was bc i was barely even awake at that point but just random loud noises while living alone, it's kinda scary sksksks i am in a safe apartment complex but my overthinking mind just isn't having it

BUT ALSO ALSO bc it was followed by like an angry voice too like i couldn't make out what was said. and then it went quiet. and then something banged again? like someone hitting wood maybe so like the door and stuff. and then i heard a very faint cry/scream from a woman? now a this point idk if i imagined it bc it was soooo far away and it was just so short

but anyway, was contemplating just peeking out, bc there's a small window by the door here, but i also was literally so scared that something was going on and i don't want to get involved, in case i'd get hurt or something? like it honestly was just a fight between a couple prolly bc i think there's a few who live here and the banging was just furniture or some shit. but i just didn't want to risk trying to see what was going on. bc bro i'm 5'1 i live alone i barely know anyone in this building so like, apart from this family who has these lil kids i come across whenever i get to the elevator, so yeah i'd rather not ALKSKLAS

[bisluthq]

That’s so trippy! 😂 I find it kinda flattering too, I’m like what the actual fuck, because the girl has a similar jaw shape as me, hair length, brunette and skinny like me. Ironically my ex (previous relations) look nothing like each other. So I’m like what the fuck. My friend even was like when I showed her the pics “I was just thinking that” (referring to her looking like me).

I can’t tell if that means we meant a lot to them or some shit or we were their type? And they think about us?

LMAo that’s true about ME! Gonna play it right now sksksks

I think it’s mostly a type thing like that’s what they find attractive (like for my ex it was petite, dark haired - until this current girl who is blonde but fits the rest, sorta pretty but in a non threatening way, a bit “Jewish looking” lol, dresses in a fairly classic way - the girl he sorta “left me for” who was and is very alternative style wise bit otherwise she fit all this and the blonde girl he’s with now and I literally have the same Michael Kors sneakers as I learned from when I stalked her for this exercise lol that’s the vibe usually, party girl with advanced degree). Another joke here is my ex wanted to break up in part because he said he thought I’m gay and need to be free to like explore that more and he wasn’t fully wrong there obviously but currently I’m with a man and that girl he left me for has been with a woman for the last few years lmao. In fact there was also another girl he dated briefly who I did meet because we were friendlier than we are at the time (not that we’re not friends now but he lives on another continent) and that girl was also short and dark haired and Jewish and has fully come out as a lesbian and is now with a girl I went on a few dates with before they got together lol. So maybe my ex’s other type is also yk kinda gay. Like yeah I mean I think he def has a type but I think I was the formative experience for the creation of that type because from 16/17-19/20 that was what a “girlfriend” was for him 😂

I once went through a very weird era of deciding I’m secretly still in love with him and like basically writing a fanfic in my head about how we should get back together but he was (fortunately because I was yk going through something there lol) not very receptive to the idea (I didn’t fully proposition him but I did message quite a bit and we had a few phone calls and I was like “idk maybe we should visit each other” and he was like “ummm” and yeah I mean I think he’s v happy with the current gf). So I don’t think he thinks of me per se but I do think it was a formative experience he can work through in therapy at some point lol and I also do think like in our case idk I don’t think you ever are gonna fully forget your first serious relationship/first love. Like much like we take stuff from our family dynamics and relationships, I think we also carry stuff over from our serious exes and I think even though we were kids, it went on a long time and it was generally a positive experience so I think we’ve definitely carried expectations from that into our adult lives. For instance quantity of sex tbh and the fact that we do both expect like our partners to be our best friends (probably why he keeps hitting on the gay women there lol but my current bf is the same like he’s disproportionately dated gay women and he and I are very close friends aside from the relationship aspect) and a bunch of other good stuff.

none of my subsequent partners look like him and tbh none of them have a similar job to him but all the men I’ve ever dated/90% of the ones I’ve hooked up with are very very tall and that was the thing I liked most about him physically so that also makes sense and I do like as humans and expect to want to want to be best friends with if we’re seeing each other idk sorry for the morning ramble.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Dearest Sunshine,

I hope this ask finds you well and that you’re doing amazing. How do I get guys to notice me? I think I’m starting to crave male validation a bit but I know that too much can be bad. I’ve changed up my wardrobe recently to be more feminine and cutesy because dressing like that makes me feel really pretty but I was hoping it would help guys notice me too. I think i’ve started to delude myself into thinking that if I wear a really pretty outfit outside then like 10 boys will come up to me and start talking to me. (I’m not dressing for them, but maybe I want to get noticed a bit 😞)

I definitely want to put myself out there but I don’t even know how to talk to boys.

Hello my love, i hope you are doing well. Let me start by saying that i am not an expert on talking to men, the fact that i found my boyfriend at all is something of a miracle in itself, so i may not be the best person to come to for advice, but i will try anyways 💕

First things first: confidence is key. Everyone loves confidence, whether they realize it or not. We're all attracted to people who have high self esteem and are very sure of yourselves, so start by working on your confidence. Positive affirmations help a lot. I recommend getting Self Esteem (3rd Edition) by Matthew McKay: i got it for 50 cents at a surplus store and it has done wonders for my self esteem and how i view myself. I think it would be helpful in building your confidence.

Next, don't worry about what you wear. I've pulled guys when i wore leggings, sweatshirts, old shorts, and tie dye shirts i made myself. Looks do not always matter. If a guy is interested in you and he wants to talk to you, trust me, he will. Don't worry your pretty head about being feminine or looking a certain way to attract guys.

Be friendly! I know it's hard when you're nervous, but the best way to get to know people is by being friendly and talking with them. See a cute guy in the grocery store? Ask him about something he has in his shopping cart, start a conversation. At the gym when you see a hot guy? Ask him how to use a specific machine and chat if you can. Just let things flow naturally. If he doesn't want to talk, just let him go, there's plenty of fish in the sea. If he does talk, ask him about himself: does he buy this product every time he goes grocery shopping, what recipes does he use this food in, how long has he been going to the gym, what does his workout routine consist of. Again, if he doesn't want to talk, he won't, so don't force it. Just relax and see where things go.

If you're REALLY desperate for attention, you could always post nudes on nsfw twitter. That's what i did for a while and it satisfied me for a bit (tbh that's actually how i met my boyfriend sksksk but that's a story for a different day). If you post nudes, don't show your face, don't share your real name or location, don't give out any clues as to who you are and where you live. Be as anonymous as possible. It may help satisfy your urge for male attention.

Overall, just be yourself. If a guy really wants to get to know you, he wants to know the REAL you, not just who you present yourself to be.

I hope you find what you're looking for sweetie, stay safe, love you 💕

[rubydracogirl]

HELPP IDK WHY IT PIQUED MY INTEREST 🤭🤭 I MEAN I OBVIOUSLYYY HAVE NOO INTEREST IN INK SANS (😈) BUT TO MY CREDITT I DID MANAGE TO BREATHE ENOUGH TO READ MORE!!!! i compared my heights to all of them and they could literally shoot a hoop with me a SLAM DUNK EVEN

SKSKSKS ME TOO BRO. I'm like 5.3, which isn't THAT short but it's still below average for a woman. I do occasionally enjoy short Sans headcanons (i giggle sometimes thinking about bullying Canon Ink) but my preference is definitely the Bara boys. There's various UT artists that I would blame it on. Malenchka comes to mind, as well as Melikitinas, who drew the Mafiafell Frans comic, "Sooner or Later, You're Gonna Be Mine".

I went from liking Sans and Papyrus in a very wholesome, platonic way to becoming a rabid self-shipper for them, which is uh, really well illustrated in my works 🤣🤣🤣

[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!