#wlw thread fic

[doordaash]

cw: drunken kissing

I just think fem fengqing meeting in the club bathroom for the first time while both are pretty drunk would be fun ehhe teehee

both are complimenting the other up a storm, as is the norm for the club bathroom scene yknow what i mean (AN: best experience in my life tbh)

"I actually really like your shoes" Mu Qing slurs, surprise lacing her tone as she steadies herself on the counter.

"thanks, I think? your lipstick is really pretty...actually all your makeup...wait...your whole fa--you're just really fucking pretty" Feng Xin drunkenly smiles.

"it's Dior....just got it...I actually think the shade would match your complexion as well..." Mu Qing smiles back, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Feng Xin couldn't lie & say she wasn't intrigued by the absolute model standing before her, in all her black & sparkly two piece glory.

"....if you're offering...." she winks, moving closer to the other girl, willing herself to not trip in her drunken state - how embarrassing would that be!?!

"i wouldn't have brought it up if i wasn't" the other girl scoffed, but there was no heat to it, just a smirk.

the two ignore the sounds of flushing toilets & others going in and out of the bathroom, they ignore the loud base filled music that enters the bathroom each time someone leaves or enters.

it's as if no one else is there, as the two lean in, Feng Xin needing to bend her neck up slightly to reach the others lips, as the goddesses heels were a bit taller than her own.

the two shared a soft, but sweet kiss, both a /bit/ too drunk to really kiss the other /properly/, but it was still a really....really nice kiss.

Feng Xin was nearly about to ask the goddess if she wanted to come dance with her, but she was already busy writing a series of numbers down on a small paper she had materialized out of thin air, before sliding it over to Feng Xin, then turning to the mirror to fix her lipstick & retreating back to the club.

-

the next week, Feng Xin doesn't hear from the club bathroom goddess much, despite texting her that her names 'Feng Xin' & she'll be going to the club again that weekend if the other wanted to meet up

she still didn't know club goddesses name, as she only said that she 'would be there'

the Friday before that though, Feng Xin readies herself to go to meet up with Xie Lian, whom she had not seen in years due to her friend moving away for college & living with her girlfriend.

they were planning a dinner to discuss Xie Lians wedding, as Feng Xin was in the party along with a couple of Xie Lians other friends that Feng Xin had not met yet.

before leaving, she opens her phone to a text from the soon to be bride herself, saying that another one of her friends, Mu Qing, was able to join them that night!

Feng Xin recalls Xie Lian talking about this 'Mu Qing' over text more than a handful of times, mentioning little things here & there, to the point where Feng Xin felt as if she almost /knew/ her.

her & Xie Lian were roommates, she was a doctor, she had 2 cats that she loved dearly, she was a great cook...

she had just never seen a photo of this roommate, & suddenly wished she had made more of an effort to visit Xie Lian during school so she could meet her other friends....what if the whole wedding was awkward now?! She was the only one in the party that didn't know the others...even Hua Cheng knew Xie Lians other friends!

"I cant wait for you two to meet!" Xie Lian texts, her excitedness radiating through the small screen. with that, Feng Xin leaves her apartment to go meet up with the two other girls.

_

the shock hardly registers within Feng Xin, when she walks up to the designated restaurant to find Xie Lian waiting outside, talking with the club bathroom goddess herself!

club bathroom goddess is /Mu Qing/!?

Xie Lians Mu Qing?!

what in the /fucking/ small world is THIS?!

Feng Xin can do nothing but stand there in a silent gasp, pointing at Mu Qing

Xie Lian looks between the two in confusion.

Mu Qings own eyes widen, & Feng Xin can see the dots connecting in her pretty little head almost immediately

"you're actually fucking kidding..."

(testing some writing with Fem fengqing, as I have a lot of twt drafts for them that I've never posted...might turn this into a fic down the road...hmmm)

[sundrop-writes]

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!

[driaswrld]

one night only! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.1k

summary : fem!reader goes to a club with shoko to be free from her scary guard dog besties, satoru and suguru show up anyway, just a bunch of intimacy really. maybe one lil suggestive part w satoru?? mention of wlw shoko and possible insinuation of stoner geto lmao

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : i headcanon poly satosugu as often toeing the line between platonic love and romantic love bcus these three idiots rlly can't tell the diff sometimes. also shoko is gay and is my gf don't @ me. also this is ooc of how satoru and suguru would be at a club cs lets be fr satoru would be an emotional drunken mess while suguru is in the bathroom smoking or smth

other : im having so many teenage romance thoughts ab poly satosugu. also this was kinda inspired by a poly marauders fic i read agesss ago

current casette : i was never there - the weeknd. me and your mama - childish gambino.

You can feel the bass of the music in your throat, your heartbeat racing to catch up with it.

Parties like these only had one common thread : brainless, brainless fun.

“That one over there,” Shoko murmurs against your ear as discreetly as she can, but just as loud as for you to hear her over the thumping music inside the club. Your gaze moves from the sequin strap across Shoko’s shoulder and over to a girl across the way, a redhead, leaning against the bar and knocking back an expensive looking drink. “She’s pretty.” You turn your head to Shoko’s ear.

Satoru and Suguru have been… hovering these past few weeks.

You love them, truly, the bestest best friends anyone could ask for. But two popular conventionally attractive men by your side at all times? It does put a damper on your love life. Shoko would be able to understand your point of view — if she wasn’t playing for the other team at least.

The redhead looks over her shoulder out at the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, the dark blue dress she has on really accentuates her figure — among other things. “You should go tal–” Before you can finish, Shoko’s mouth is agape, eyes fixed on the girl, and being the wingwoman that you are, you shove her forward a little. “Talk to her.”

“You sure?” Shoko wobbles forward, tipsy but sober enough to take a pretty girl home. The neon lights inside the club flash pink and blue then red and green then pink and—

“I don’t wanna abandon you, name.” You only laugh at Shoko, giving her two firm thumbs up, nudging her forward again, and still, she stands there contemplating. That is, until the redhead turns around and locks eyes with Shoko.

Oh, she’s far gone already.

“Don’t leave my peripheral.” Shoko kisses the side of your cheek and begins to saunter off, just as the song playing in the club changes to a softer, more sensual song.

There’s something about parties. Something that gives you the uneasy feeling two specific people could pop up at any time – two people you’re trying very hard to make clear to that you’re your own woman.

What makes a grown man wanna cry?

You slide back to the spot on the dancefloor you and Shoko shared moments ago, and with a sigh of near relief, you let the music transcend you to a different realm. Your body sways among the masses, a tinge of alcohol probably clouding your judgement because on any other occasion you’d find dancing in public embarrassing—

When it’s time, when it’s time, when it’s time, it won’t matter

There’s a sense of complete euphoria that washes over you, and before you know it, a slender arm snakes around your waist. And despite your better judgement, you know who it is before you look over your shoulder.

It’s an eerily intimate thing, feeling the chill of the six eyes raking over you.

You’re sure Suguru must be the only other person to feel how it feels, the goosebumps that rise on your flesh, hair standing on end. But not in fear. In something else entirely—

“You’re so pretty.” Satoru whispers against the edge of your ear. He doesn’t sound drunk. At the very least he barely sounds tipsy, just a small slur of speech in between, and you look over your shoulder at him.

“Prettier than you?” You stop moving and let out a laugh, and he goes brainless. Crystalline orbs stare down at you, and he pulls your body flush against him, pressing his body into yours from behind.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbles and your body sways, resuming with the rhythm of the blaring music. A whisper of the lyrics leaves his mouth, and you nearly forget how he knows the song — must’ve been in one of Suguru’s playlists. One of those playlists he keeps.

“Satoru—” you’re about to scold him, maybe tell him this is a thin line, one you’ve been toeing for too long.

Satoru brings his other arm around your waist, both his hands meeting in accord atop the flesh of your stomach. He waits for a beat, waits for you to tell him no, but it never comes.

I’m on the edge of something breaking

His head dips to your height, his hair tickles the back of your neck. You can feel the heat from his lips on your skin as he hums along to the lyrics. “Just feel it for a little...” He whispers.

Even in his tipsy but not-so-tipsy state, he knows exactly what he's doing. You think, maybe he’s always known. At least in body but not in mind.

If I keep going I won’t make it

A sigh escapes your lips, something akin to a breath of relief, like a weight lifts off your shoulders.

Satoru’s body grinds forward onto you, and your head tilts back onto his chest, a mouthful of lyrics leaving your mouth in a gasp. “Feels good, yeah?” He grins down at you, pleased, his voice a bit off-key in a more Satoru-like fashion.

“Didn’t know you knew the song,” the words leave your lips as you both lock eyes. He rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into the exposed flesh of your shoulder playfully.

“Suguru plays it all the time—” He replies, then continues to hum along with the song, his voice barely sounding like his own. “It’s too sexy to not know.”

There’s a sense of comfort in not knowing the depth of what you feel in this moment.

Satoru spins you around to face him, and the breath leaves your lungs. And the moment in between knowing what your relationship is and not knowing all but fades to black.

And with the way he looks into your eyes, and leans forward, you think he just might break the line two.

And it’s all because of you—

The song fades out, to a more upbeat one, and Satoru’s hands fall limp at his sides. Suddenly, you remember how to breathe. And you swallow the lump in your throat, all while he gives you the signature goofy grin you’ve come to cherish.

You turn your head to look across the mini crowd, and Shoko is still there, one arm slung around the redhead as they both knock back shots.

Temporary. It’s no big deal, you and Satoru were just tipsy.

But that sense of relief is short-lived.

Embarrassingly so.

“Boo.” A sharp exhale leaves your lips as soon as you turn your head, and instead of Satoru staring down at you, your view is blocked by Suguru.

You look at him like a lost child, and he rears his head away to laugh at you. “Don’t look so scared, name.” He smirks, slyly, like Suguru always does when he’s taunting.

“You dumbass—” You breathe, a hand colliding with the edge of his shoulder in a soft shove and Satoru can’t help but laugh at the sight before him.

Then, Suguru’s fingers wrap around your wrist, two, then four then he’s tugging you forward, straight into him and Satoru. “Don’t be so mean to me, you’ll break my heart.” He says it so condescendingly, with such a smile that makes your heart leap at your current predicament.

Satoru really wasn’t done. He just brought in reinforcements.

“As if—” You grumble, and the lights dim for a second before flashing a neon purple. And that’s all the time Satoru and Suguru need.

“—I have a heart?” Suguru towers over you, and he bends his knees just a little, resting his chin against your shoulder so you can hear him. “Or as if you could break it?”

You think Suguru’s been smoking. The warmth of his breath against your bare skin makes you shiver a little. You think you feel a little dizzy just from looking at him.

The way his eyes are downcast, eyelids heavy, like he’s bordering on the precipice of eternal sleep or the best dream he’s ever had, one he doesn't want to wake from.

He looks at you like you're the latter rather than the former.

Satoru swings his hand forward, interlocking his fingers with yours, pale slender digits finding purchase between yours as he moves to your side. “As if to both.” He rolls his eyes, and Suguru lets out a soft whistle, “You’re so cold, Satoru.”

The song playing begins to fade out, and Suguru takes advantage of the few seconds before the song switches, that small gap of silence, and he whispers, “Dance with us..?”

“Duh.” You grab ahold of Suguru’s hand with your free one, all while Satoru’s grip on your other hand tightens just a little. “Who else would I dance with?”

These things are no secret, never have been and never will be. And you have a funny feeling you know why your love life remains so stagnant.

How does the old age thing go? Never let your girl have a boy bestfriend. Or worse, two.

The three of you saunter to the middle of the dancefloor, the neon lights flashing shades of blue.

And if you didn’t know better, you’d say whoever the DJ is, they’ve got a sick sense of humor.

Because they manage to play the most romantically erotic song you could ever hear in a club setting. Ironically, a song you recognize from your playlist — no doubt you learned it from one of Suguru’s tracklists. A very extensive one titled with a leaf emoji.

I’m in love when we are smoking that—

Suguru’s arm moves to wrap around your waist from in front, and he tugs you close as the soft tempo reverberates through the room. He shrugs some of his hair off his shoulder, dark eyes finding yours and he doesn’t dare look away for a second.

Suguru must think you're a pipe dream. That you’ll disappear if he blinks.

Your bodies rock from side to side and Satoru doesn’t let go of your hand, instead he slides behind you, following the rhythm you and Suguru have set in tune, raising your intertwined hands to his lips, and for a moment he uses them as a makeshift microphone to sing—

La-la-la-la-la

Suguru grins and he presses his chin atop your head, his other arm coming around to hug you close to his chest, while Satoru meets you both halfway, and it’s really just a sandwich swaying side to side with you in the middle.

I’m in love when we are smoking that—

What initially started off as something so simple, you coming to a club with Shoko wanting to finally get laid since your best friends managed to scare all the guys off — has turned into something so soft, so intimate.

There are never many words, never much explanation when you’re with Satoru and Suguru.

And it’s clear none of the three of you know what this is or where you stand. But for now, that’s okay.

La-la-la-la-la

“You okay?” Suguru dips his head to mumble into your ear, and you nod, words failing you.

In truth, you’ve never felt so soft, so safe yet so… vulnerable. But that’s also okay.

Satoru cranes his neck and leans his body over yours to look between you and Suguru, having not heard a thing. “You two okay?”

And you laugh. Suguru does too.

Suguru’s arms around you keeps you grounded against him, and Satoru’s weight against your back keeps you firm between them. “If you need us to stop… if you need a drink I can—” Suguru tries, but you cut him off with a soft pat to his shoulder.

“Don’t stop,” you mimic Satoru’s words from earlier as your own into Suguru’s chest and he melts. “Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You affirm, and he nods, his chin going back to rest atop your head. And you wrap a free arm around Suguru’s middle, the other still softly interlaced with Satoru’s at your side. “M’ happy here.”

“In the club?” Suguru asks, albeit a little louder so you can hear him an amused smile slipping onto his features. “No, just—” Your words fail you. But this, there can’t be any intent without feeling, true unbiased feeling.

And you feel it, coursing through you in soft waves for them.

That unbiased wavy feeling, almost like you’re floating. That feeling for them. Though you don’t quite know what to call it yet.

“Here,” you mumble and a smile stretches onto your face. “With you, and Satoru too.”

Suguru stops swaying a bit, and at the change in movement Satoru stops too, peering over your shoulder to see what’s happening.

But Suguru only grins a little. “I’m happy too,” he says. Then he glances at Satoru, and Satoru glances to you. “I guess if you two are so happy, then me too.” Satoru chuckles.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

June 30th

~*~

1. Ok this might be a shot in the dark. But do you know of a fic where basically it’s an arranged marriage (kind of) between lan zhan and trans (ftm) wei ying. It believe it is based on a reddit thread of a gay guy who got into an arranged marriage with a woman, but they actually are a trans man. Anyways…the reddit posts are deleted by now. But I remember reading this fic a couple years back and I can’t find it anywhere. Either it’s been deleted or hopefully someone else is able to find it 😭

FOUND? Lift Us Where Suffering Cannot Reach by Khashana (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern, Arranged Marriage, Marriage of Convenience, fake married, Sort Of, Rule 63, Trans Woman WWX, Partial Cisswap, implied background/societal homo/transphobia, But nothing overt, background LXC/Qin Su also in a marriage of convenience way, gender euphoria, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love with your spouse, based on that one reddit post, Light Angst, Light Pining, this fic is soft mostly) I think #1 might be this one, although wwx is a trans woman in it (it's a wlw wangxian AU) rather than a trans man

~*~

2. Hi!! I cant remember if I already sent this or just thought really hard about it 😪 Im looking for a modern AU fic where WWX is dx'd ADHD and he and LWJ slowly start a relationship. The scene I remember most clearly is there being fireworks and it send LWJ into a meltdown. Ether just before or after the meltdown he found out LXC and LQR have been trying to get him diagnosed with Autism.

Xiao Xingchen is an adult psych who specalizes in neurodivergence iirc, and WWX helps make LWJ feel more okay w possibly being neurodiverse by talking about his experience w ADHD and Xiao Xingchen.

🙇‍♀️ thank you! @la-voce-to-me

FOUND! together, we're just enough by lulu_kitty (E, 134k, WangXian, Modern AU, Bartender LWJ, single dad wwx, Kid fic (sort of), Excessive Fluff, Yearning, neurodivergent wangxian, canonical parental issues, lwj in jewelry, accidental sugar gege wwx, Bottom LWJ, Service Top WWX, Bisexual WWX, Rich WWX, a-yuan is a wei but still also a wen, wwx is a-yuan's biological baba, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Slow-ish burn, Light Dom/sub, Brief LWJ/Others, Past WWX/Other(s)) sounds a lot like the happenings in chapter 8!

~*~

3. hey admins! i'm looking for a fic where wwx is from the modern world back and somehow goes back in time to the cloud recesses and spends some time there, and towards the end of the fic lwj goes back to the modern with wwx. (i also remember that wwx and lwj goes back and forth often visiting each others home) thanks! <3

FOUND? Wrong Turn, Right Place by diamondbruise (E, 71k, WangXian, Time Travel, kind of, it’s more reality travel but there’s modern wwx and cultivator lwj, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings, Cultural Differences)

~*~

4. This for fic finder. Its an old fic. Modern au focused on junior quartet. I dont know if the fic is several fic or in one fic. Junior quartet is in a club where they make a magazine (sorry i forgot the word both in my language and in english). They have an access to a school forum. LJY found an old forum talking about wangxian. Like the people in that forum failed to make wangxian happen in the past. If i remember correctly, they tried to matchmake wangxian. They ask LWJ to accompany them to yunmeng. In yunmeng, there are big festival happened there and they meet the jiang family in second floor of the restaurant to watch the festival from there. I think the jiangs is a respectable family that many people know them. So long story short, they manage to matchmake wangxian. I dont know if LJY release the news to that old forum or someone did. Just that LJY have an inkling the account that helped them is NHS. I dont know if this is important but LJY username has connection to chicken. I think thats all. Thank you @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Operation Old Men by Chiharu (Not Rated, 37k, WangXIan, JL & LSZ & LJY, JYL/JZX, Modern, Boarding School, Single Parents, Everyone Is Alive, Matchmaking, Family Dynamics, Hospitals, Meet the Family, Family Vacation, Weddings, School Reunion, Happy Ending)

~*~

5. this for ficfinder! i need help looking for a time travel fic wherein established wangxian travel back to their teen years. iirc wwx and lwj writes to each other in secret and wwx invents talismans to give to the jiang sect so that he can repay his debts and leave the clan when he is at a certain age. lwj also leaves (??). i think they become rogue cultivators tgt. im pretty sure i have this downloaded but i cant find it from hundreds of fics bc i cant rmbr the name 😭

FOUND! Trials of Time by Muggle_Diary (E, 32k, wangxian, major character death, underage, time travel, not jiang friendly, not YZY friendly, not JC friendly, butterfly effect)

~*~

6. Hello!! So i think the fic got deleted but all i can remember was wangxian had mythical creature eggs? Like they had a dragon,tiger,snake&turqoise and phoenix and they can talk telepathically at first then they can shift to humans later on!Thank you again so much!!!!

FOUND? For #6 with telepathic creatures, I haven't read the fic, but could it be that magical marriage ribbons series?

FOUND? #6 is My Immortal. I can't do the link on I'm my phone. It has the mythical beasts.

~*~

7. Hii, I'm looking for a fic in which lan zhan goes to a party with lan xichen and then keeps going to the same house where the party is at many times and hangs out with wei ying on the basement sofa

~*~

8. hii!! i recently read a fanfic where wei wuxian can't sleep because he gets horrible nightmares, there's one particular scene where the juniors are practically dragging him into cloud recesses, and he's falling asleep whilst walking and they meet with Lan wangji. if you could help me find it, that would be super great !! @spaaarkie

FOUND? hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

9. I thought I had subscribed to this fic but I guess not... Looking for a WIP in which WWX is ambushed in Yiling, but he has A-Yuan with him so he's extra desperate in trying to fight the attackers off. There might be fire involved? Either the title, the description or the tags have some reference to "hysterical strength" (maybe! not 100% sure about that one!). Thank you. 🖤❤️ @linderel

FOUND! Hysterical Strength by covalentbonds (Not rated, 3k, WangXian, WIP, Canon Divergence, Inspired by a Bollywood movie scene, Everyone Lives/Nobody dies, Parent WWX)

~*~

10. hi!! i'm looking for a fic i read about a year ago(?) on ao3, where during the cloud recesses study arc (i think?) lqr and the other teachers notice that wwx's basic education is lacking and wwx says it's because yzy doesn't let him join jc's lessons because wwx is supposed to be a right hand man and his education is therefore less important, so the lan elders and scholars all team up to give him remedial lessons; i think there's also a part where they build a case against the jiang sect because the sect scholars failed their responsibility to teach their disciples equally. the fic holding shreds by barisan reminds me of it a little bit, but instead of yzy's physical abuse of wwx the one i'm looking for is all about the emotional abuse and education inequality

FOUND?🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting) in this one, Xichen is speculating that WWXs education was stunted, especially in sect etiquette, deliberately by mme yu.

FOUND?🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, cloud recesses, NHS & LWJ friendship, developing relationship, LWJ pov, minor injuries, autistic LWJ, implied/referenced child abuse, aka YZY warning, genius WWX, light angst, hurt/comfort, WWX protection squad) in this one the lan sect does the scholar case thing where they accuse jiang sect of failing their duties by neglecting to educate wei ying.

~*~

11. hi, i'm looking for a fic which i found on twitter but im sure links to AO3 — basically everyone in the universe is some sort of animal (wwx is a fox, lwj is a dragon?) and they're classified by their mating cycles (whether they mate for life or seasonally). wwx and lwj gets engaged but lwj calls it off as wwx is a fox and therefore mates seasonally vs his for-life situation. wwx gets sad about it and then they find out wwx actually can mate for life! i used to find it easily before but for some reason no matter what i search, it just won't come up and i don't think i was logged into ao3 at the time i read it either. hope someone remembers it as well, thanks!

FOUND? what you have tamed by lianhua_lianzi, Senforza (E, 94k, WangXian, Animal Traits, misunderstandings, Courting Rituals, Pining, Lan family dynamics, Drama, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Arranged Marriage, Wangxian break up but get back together, Eventual Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Unresolved Sexual Tension, unintentional and eventually resolved “gaslighting”, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX)

~*~

12. Hi I’m trying to find a fic where jiang Cheng is being forced to get married/find an heir. I remember that a member of YunmengJiang approached him with a list of members of the sect that would leave if he didn’t get an heir. I think it was mentioned that people were okay with him not having getting married since they assumed Jin Ling would inherit and Jin Guangyao would have another child but once his crimes were revealed they started to pressure him.

I know it wasn’t a Jiang cheng/lan Xichen or jiang cheng/nie Huaisang

FOUND? Karma by such_stuff_as_dreams_are_made_on (Not Rated, 2k, JC & OCs, Post-Canon, Arranged Marriage, Light Angst, Minor WangXian, Not JC Friendly)

~*~

13. I’m trying to find this fic where Wei Ying is looking for spouse for some reason and he starts asking everyone in Cloud Recesses but Lan Zhan even ask LXC to be his partner right in front of LWJ

If you have an idea about what I’m talking about thank you!!

~*~

14. so theres this fic in which jiang cheng and wei wuxian sit in a boat in jiang cheng's memories and wei wuxian sings a song that he altered slightly. im pretty sure it was a reconcilliation fic but im not sure but jc was a bit emotional. i can't find it, please help!

related to the previous ask, what i described is also only a scene from that fic and probably not what the entire fic is about. i only remember that one scene. @theartisticdoofus

FOUND? sing to the clouds in summerby stiltonbasket (G, 28k, JC & WWX, JC & JL, wangxian, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, 13k words of JC figuring out that LSZ is his nephew, ft. LXC and NHS the overprotective uncles, and LWJ giving JC death glares, Family Secrets, Reconciliation, Sad JC, Uncle-Nephew Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Podfic Available) the song is in chapter 4

~*~

15. Dear FicFinder Team, here I am again with only vibes and one scene. It was a WIP CQL post-canon fic, set during WWX's wanderings. At some point he exorcises a ghost in a tower (not one of the watchtower fics tho) and the last scene was WWX on his way back, kneeling in the grass to make offerings to his shijie and finally letting himself cry about her death. Maybe there were food descriptions too, I read this very early on and cannot find it in my history. It was exquisitely written too. @kinoumenthe

FOUND! the earth remembered me by remux (T, 30k, WIP, WangXian, POV WWX, Post-Canon, Emotional Edging, Letters, emotional support strangers, Original Character(s), lwj's quiet devotion)

~*~

16. Do you know the name for a fic where WWX is invisible (for some reason) and is in LWJ room (for some reason) and WWX watches LWJ hump a pillow but then LWJ notices that someone is in the room with him yada yada they have sex i forget when it gets revealed that it’s WWX

NOT FOUND! Mak Siccar by therealandraste (E, 20k, WangXian, Case Fic, Post-Canon, Misunderstandings, Pining, Happy Ending, Paperman smut - only god can judge me, Original Character Death(s)) the details don't exactly fit but

FOUND! Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, WangXian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

~*~

17. hello I'm looking for this twitter threadfic written by cerbykerby where wwx is a mermaid captured and brought in for studying by scientist lwj and others, and they eventually become mates. i've tried looking through their account for it but the fic is old and the search is way too far down, and i can't find the full fic. pls help out thanks!

FOUND? this is the unrolled threadfic by cerbykerby, I think

~*~

18. Hi! First time requesting something like this, but I really need help finding this one fanfic. It’s a incomplete wangxian fanfic and the summary of what I remember was that when WWX wakes up in MXY’s body after thirteen years, people are actually praising YL WWX because somehow (I cant remember how) the truth behind his actions and why he did what he did in the first place. JC faces some hate from the cultivation world, JL doesn’t hate WWX, and LWJ is extremely protective of WWX. Hope all this information helps!!! @nikki-g-m

Could #18 be that fic where a painter/theater guy did an interview with drunk wwx during the burial mounds arc and then it got published after his death so that when he resurrects its's all settled already (?). I dont remember the name either but maybe someone else will

FOUND? 💖 The Ballad of Hanguang-Jun and The Yiling Patriarch by Theladyofravenclaw (T, 40k, WangXian, ChengQing, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Burial Mounds Arc, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Humor, musical theater?, Misunderstandings, POV Outsider, Crack treated seriously) The commenter on 18 was thinking of The ballad of Hanguang-jun and the Yiling Patriarch, though idk if this is the fic OP wants

FOUND? i think its deleted? Have You Heard Of The Yiling Patriach by R_PONTS

~*~

19. literally just reading a random wangxian fic when I I remembered this one fic I read a while ago. I can’t really remember a lot of details but from what I remember Wei ying is the cloud recess for whatever reason and he get the silencing spell out on him and he panicked and starts scratching and clawing at his throat and everybody’s watching horrified like please y’all help me remember 😭 @saintzx

FOUND?🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 56k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad) The clawing is because he's desperate to defend JC against LQR's (rightful) admonishing, after JYL told him he should've tried harder after being silenced on a previous occasion defending JC

~*~

20. Hello

Love your blog!

A) I'm looking for a fic where wwx was raised by WRH, but it is introduced with him being the one to raze Cloud Recess and starting ti flirt with a prisoner LWJ who's very much " bro, wtf" in his inner monologue.

He's bff w Xye Yang and at one point thinks of doing lwj favors

B) Modern au where wwx and lwj had been married, adopted LSZ and then divorced due to someone either framing wwx or LWJs fam pressuring him to it. Wwx still has visitation rights and all, and at one point lwj buys them a house as an apology, but wwx is less than cash money above it, bcs lwj didn't truly fix the mistrust or whatever the reason for their breakup was @midnightlighthowlite

20B)

FOUND? 🔒 Life as a House by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Corporate Espionage, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy)

~*~

21. Hello there, I’m not sure if this is a fic finder or an in the mood for, because I’m looking for a fic and more like that.

So you know how theres this TikTok Sound of someone called Nick who asks for the WLAN Password and its I Love You Nick and Nick is in a lot of denial about being lovers even though their anniversary is coming up?

I found a fic that was basically WY and LZ in a relationship, and WY/LZ (but more likely WY) didn’t realise that they were anything more than friends, and it was very funny.

More comedic than anything else. But I cannot for the life of me find it, and everytime I try and search for it, only the sad version shows up.

Please send help, I need to read this fluff….I crave it. @desperation-is-my-middle-name

~*~

[pelorsdyke]

making a new pinned post to neaten up my fic links! my name is k, i love writing wlw ships, and ill be so real with you rn a lot of them are rarepairs. find me here on ao3. my tumblr fic tag is here, and I often post wip peeks for tag games.

some ships I’ve written once or twice include: spemily (pll), buffy x tara (btvs), jackienat (yellowjackets), donnajoey (the west wing), maggie x sophie (leverage), and wayhaught (wynonna earp). I also wrote a lot of ronance (stranger things) during the s4 era.

marjan marwani & nancy gillian (911 lone star):

who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me (test kitchen au)

and love isn’t a fact, it’s a hunch at first. (paul helps marjan come to terms with her feelings for nancy)

and your keys, your ring of keys (marjan starts to realize some things about herself, with the help of an oc. lesbian marjan)

underneath your hands I become poetry (some celebratory sex after tommy announces nancy will take over as interim captain while she’s away. inspired by the bts pic where nancy appears to be wearing a name tag that says captain gillian)

your essence is the ink in the word forever (nancy has tattoos. marjan notices.)

so swing your hips and do a little dip (nancy, marjan, and tarlos go to a gay bar)

I will do my best to get it right (nancy and marjan’s first anniversary plans go awry)

I’m gonna love you for a long time (marjan’s lesbian flag hijab, but also just like. 1k words of established fluff)

I’ve been under scrutiny (you handle it beautifully) (marjan and nancy are actors on the firefighter show austin 126. nancy may have a tiny baby crush)

everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it (post-canon, nancy thinks about moving on. it’s kind of terrifying.)

lucy tara & kate whistler (ncis: hawai’i):

the room is empty, and the window is open (a spiderwoman lucy au, the tumblr tag for the series is here)

february, the thirteenth (kacy celebrates valentines day early, as per lucy’s way of handling holidays)

blue scooby-doo fruit snacks and unrequited love, probably (high school au kacy flirting)

sit down, breathe, and just listen (post-3.04, kacy talks about marriage and promises)

in response, your glorious laughter (a snapshot of a sweet married kacy early morning)

hear the desert wind roll by (kacy first meeting cowboy au, pwp)

one single thread of gold tied me to you (kai buys lucy a virtual meet-and-greet with her celebrity crush, kate whistler. it turns out they may be a little more familiar with each other than lucy’s remembering.)

hen wilson & karen wilson (911 abc):

I did think, let’s go about this slowly (karen and her instinct to let insecurity drive her decision-making.)

I wanna get stuck in your head (some soft henren fluff about parenting, flirting, and finding the time to talk to your wife.)

[chaifootsteps]

🧁 anon

A year or so ago, there was this thread making the rounds on Twitter talking about how a Fandom I'm in is misogynistic because "there are no popular wlw ships". Now, normally I'd at least be open to the idea that the lack of wlw ships could be a symptom of a larger issue in the fanbase... until you remember that the source material itself doesn't have a lot of female characters. And the few that are there don't get a lot of screen time (including one who's supposedly part of the main cast but that's another story) so if anything, be mad at the writers. Then op said that people should just make the male characters transfem in their ship art/fics and I was like oh. Oh I get it. You're just big mad that your headcanon isn't more popular. That's what this is ACTUALLY about. And as you can imagine, op just blocked anyone who disagreed with them. It feels especially spiteful cuz an actually popular headcanon is that one of the main characters is transmasc. Just wanted to vent about this cuz I was reminded of it recently and I got pissed all over again

Has it occurred to this person that they could make their own stories, make their own art, and make the male characters transfem themselves, or failing all that, commission their own damn content?

I know I say it constantly, but I really miss when fandoms used to be about having fun.

[circlique]

Do you like Avatar? Do you wanna learn about the eras years and years before Aang and Kyoshi and Yangchen? Do you wanna learn about the limits of bending? Do you like aroace MCs and friends-to-enemies-to-lovers wlw subplots?

Then stick around, because I'm trying to finally finish the art for the second chapter of my Avatar TTRPG fic, Threads of Power!

[robin-buckleys-burner-account]

kiss me

pairing: nancy wheeler x fem!reader | word count: 2k | warnings: none, kissing (?)

summary: when you go to nancy’s to help her edit an article for the hawkins high paper, you find it hard to control the feelings you’ve been harboring for her.

author’s note: okay so i’m very excited bc this is my first queer fic!! that being said, i don’t have any experience with being in a queer relationship, so if there’s anything that i can do to make this a better representation of a queer/wlw relationship, please let me know!! also the idea and title for this fic comes from kiss me by sixpence none the richer so listen to that while reading this if you’d like!! also i apologize for the fact that this isn’t heavily edited or proofread. i plan to come back and edit any mistakes later

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

“Hello?” your voice rang out as you entered the Wheeler home. You looked about, your eyes scanning the room, not seeing anyone in the house. Your gaze flitted down to your watch, making sure you had the right time. You were a few minutes early, you realized, and you hoped that you weren’t intruding. Maybe you should go wait in your car for a bit. You felt yourself pulling back, beginning to move towards your car, before you made a split-second decision and hesitantly let yourself into the house. Thankfully, you were greeted moments later as Nancy walked into the room.

“Oh, hi!” she said with an embarrassed chuckle, “I didn’t hear you come in.” Her cheeks were dusted with a pink flush, and her hair fell in damp curls around her face. “Sorry, I look a mess, by the way. I took a shower before you got here and sort of lost track of time, I guess. Hence the hair and the outfit,” she explained, running the tips of her fingers along her brown curls and gesturing to her clothes.

You grinned at her and shook your head. “No, it’s okay,” you assured her, “You look cute. It’s like I’m seeing a whole new Nancy.”

Your statement really was no exaggeration. Where Nancy was normally put together with her skirts and blouses arranged just so, she now looked relaxed, like she was in her natural state. She was clad in a faded pair of jeans, small rips and frayed threads visible along the seams from years of wear and tear. Along with this, a faded Hawkins High sweatshirt from your freshman year hung loosely on her frame. It was the least Nancy-like thing she’d ever worn, but somehow she never looked more herself.

“Oh, um, thank you,” she replied. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and she briefly turned away in an attempt to hide her bashfulness. She pursed her lips as she paused for a moment before speaking again, “We can look at the article in my room, or we can go in the dining room, if you’d rather that.”

“Your room is fine,” you told her with a shrug of your shoulders, “It’s up to you.”

She gave a quick nod of her head and smiled softly at you, “Okay. My room it is.” She turned towards the stairs, and you followed her, climbing up the steps. As she reached the top of the second story, she cast a look over her shoulder, making sure you were behind her as she walked towards her room.

As she opened the door, you looked around the room, taking in all the posters and pictures that covered her pink walls. You smiled at the quilt and frilly sheet that covered her bed. You’d seen it plenty of times before, but you still found it so endearing that Nancy’s room maintained its girlish decor from her younger years. It gave the space a comforting and nostalgic feel that was a true testament to her sentimental nature.

“What?” she asked, noticing the grin that painted your features.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head. “Nothing. I’ve just always liked this room. It feels very… you,” you told her very matter-of-factly as your shoulders rose and fell. Your eyes met hers, and you gave her a small smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she quipped, unable to hide the smirk on her lips.

She moved to the corner of the room, grabbing her book bag and rummaging through it. A few moments later, she turned back towards you, papers in hand. “Alright, so here’s the piece. I think it’s okay, but I’d just feel a lot better if I had someone else look over it,” she explained, sitting on the edge of her bed.

You felt the mattress dip beneath you as you came to sit beside her, taking the papers into your hands. “I’m sure it’s fine, Nance. Besides, can’t you just sort of publish whatever you want? I mean, you are the editor for the school paper.”

She rolled her eyes at your comment, though you could see a sense of amusement in her face. “Technically, yes, but I don’t want to just put anything on there. I want to make sure whatever I write is good,” she explained.

A small chuckle left your lips at her words. “Anything you write is good,” you reassured, “Hell, it’s better than good. You really have a gift for this kind of thing.” Your fingers mindlessly wandered over the pages, flipping each one to reveal the endless paragraphs they held.

A pink blush painted Nancy’s cheeks. “Thanks. I think you’re a really good writer, too,” she gushed, “You’re probably the best in our grade.” She shyly looked to you, and you could see the sincerity in your eyes.

“I don’t know about that,” you responded, “But thanks. It, uh, means a lot to hear that from you.” Your cheeks adopted a red hue, nearly matching hers.

“You really should try writing for the paper sometime,” she said quietly, her eyes flitting hopefully to meet yours. “I know the editor pretty well, so I’m sure I could get you a spot,” she joked.

You softly giggled at her comment, laughter bubbling from her throat to join yours. “Yeah, maybe so,” you answered, amusement still coloring your voice. Your eyes held her gaze, your smile slowly fading the longer peered into each other. In that moment, you could feel your body being pulled towards her. It was like there was an uncontrollable magnetism about her. Your eyes glanced down at her lips, and they looked so full and soft. You wondered what they felt like, how they’d feel against yours.

But before you could close the gap between you and find out, you felt yourself back. It was a small movement, barely even noticeable, but it was enough for the moment to end. Your eyes moved to the paper in your hands, feeling embarrassed and cursing yourself for being such a coward. You’d known Nancy for the better part of four years, becoming close friends as you went through high school, but you still froze up at the chance to turn your friendship into something more.

Trying to move past your own awkwardness, you read the first few lines of the article, searching for something you can comment on. Finally, you cleared your throat, “Um, I don’t think you need a comma here.” You touched your fingertip to the paper, pointing to a particular sentence. “I mean, I know that’s like a minor thing, but I figured I’d bring it up since we’re editing it,” your voice was meek and frail as you said it, sounding nothing like yourself.

Nancy’s eyes flitted to yours, quickly looking away as they met your gaze. She nodded her head, gently taking the paper from you. A small shiver ran through you as her fingers brushed against yours. “Okay…” she whispered, grabbing a pencil and marking the page before handing it back to you.

As you began to read farther into the piece, you found the previous awkwardness melting away, being replaced by a comfortable silence as you worked together. Occasionally you would speak up, pointing to certain phrases or spelling mistakes to change. She would hum in return, nodding and making her edits on the page.

As you became more and more focused on the task at hand, you started to get increasingly annoyed with the strands of hair that kept falling in your face. Frustrated, you took the scrunchie from your wrist, pulling your hair back.

After a few more moments of you reading through the article, you heard Nancy clear her throat. “You know,” she said quietly, “your hair looks really pretty like that, all pulled up.”

You could feel heat spread across your cheeks as you looked at her. “Really?” you asked, “You think so?”

She slowly nodded, “Mhm. You’re the prettiest girl I know.” Your eyes scanned her face, and you could tell that she meant every word.

“Thanks,” you answered, trying to contain the beating of your heart as it pounded in your chest, “I, um, I think you’re really pretty, too. Beautiful, actually.” You glanced down at her lips, wanting so badly to pull them against your own.

“Beautiful?” she repeated, her voice coming out in a small whisper. She scanned your face, and you noticed that her eyes lingered upon your lips. You felt yourself slowly begin to lean towards her, and you prayed that you weren’t imagining her leaning forwards, too.

You carefully nodded, afraid that any movement would break the moment, “Mhm. Beautiful, gorgeous, angelic. You name it.” You couldn’t hide the smile that danced across your lips as you found yourself even closer to her. She smelled of vanilla and brown sugar. It was intoxicating and sweet, just like her.

Just as your lips were an inch away from hers, looked up to catch her gaze. Your voice came out in a soft whisper, “Can I-”

But your question was cut short, as Nancy pulled you into her, closing the gap between you. Your body froze in shock before you melted into her touch. Her lips moved against yours in a movement so harmonious it could only be described as perfect. You sighed against her as your hands moved to her waist, clinging to her, desperate to hold onto her and know that this moment was real. Her hands wandered into your hair, letting it down and running her fingers through your locks.

You stayed entangled in her for what seemed like a lifetime, but somehow felt all too short as your lips left hers. Her chest rose and fell as she regained her breathing, yours doing the same. You let one hand remain on her waist, bringing the other one up to push a strand of hair behind her ear. As your eyes met hers, the two of you erupted into a fit a giggles, positively giddy on the affection radiating between you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she breathed out. She looked more beautiful than ever, her eyes bright and her lips red and swollen, matching the crimson hue that painted her cheeks.

“Really?” you asked, disbelief coloring your voice. You couldn’t believe that this was really happening. You had never imagined that she’d feel the same way.

She eagerly nodded, “Mhm. Ever since I met you.” Her hand rested against your cheek, pulling you into another quick kiss. “God, you’re irresistible,” she sighed.

You smiled into the kiss, playfully squeezing her waist. “I could say the same for you,” you teased, laughter tumbling from your lips. She joined you, giggles flowing from her in a beautiful symphony. You stayed close to each other, breathing in each other’s air and basking in the love shared between you. Your eyes slowly drifted down to the discarded papers, scattered on the floor. You looked back up to Nancy.

“So, about that article…” you began before a loud laugh tumbled from her lips. Her thumb brushed against your cheek, and she pulled you in for another kiss.

“Forget about the article,” she breathlessly mumbled against you, “Just kiss me.” You happily obliged, pushing everything else to the back of your mind, focusing on the girl in your arms and how lucky you were to have her. She was like a drug to you, beautiful and all-consuming. To hold her and be with her was to get lost in her, and in this moment you hoped to never be found.

You pulled away from her, gasping. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” you asked her breathlessly, earning a bubble of laughter from her.

“Does this answer your question?” she quipped, bringing her lips to yours.

A huge grin marked your face as you pulled away. “God, I have the coolest girlfriend ever,” you breathed, sending the both of you into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah, mine isn’t too bad either,” she replied, taking your hand in hers, “You wanna go grab some dinner? Make it a date?”

You nodded. “Sure thing,” you answered, following her out the door. As you watched her curls bounce in front of you, you smiled to yourself. She really was the girl of your dreams.

[bodiesbodiesbodiesx3]

Lesbophobia and transmisogyny in fandom: the favouritism towards m/m media and the false idea of escaping misogyny by embracing a world without women.

This discussion and thus, this piece was first mentioned on Twitter with a mere note apps picture and thread talking about how f/f media will always be seen as second fiddle to m/m ships and artwork even in fandoms where there’s a female-oriented or non-gendered cast. The response was worrying, to say the least, with transmisogynistic, misogynistic and lesbophobia rhetoric being slung left and right to justify this occurrence.

One, in particular, was that it was to “escape misogyny” but that reasoning to say the least is heavily problematic. By enforcing the idea that women cannot exist as the focus in, say, a manga or a fanfic is giving into internalised misogyny in a sense. Annihilating women from the narrative does not necessarily get rid of misogynistic gender roles such as “smaller is submissive”, “the strong protect the weak” etc, it just delegates to the male characters and in any case where there is a female character, she’s treated as an obstacle or underdeveloped for the sake of the male leads. She’s still treated with misogyny regardless. It’s disturbingly and eerily similar to men declaring that they don’t write women because they don’t know how to write them. If you read BL/MLM fics to escape misogyny, it’s not to truly escape, it’s simply to import it to more “suitable” targets without actually combatting or analysing the societal misogyny we face.

Another defence is the mere idea that criticising this ideal is going against “queer afabs” (actual wording). This is blatantly and very obviously transmisogynistic. Including the context that this argument was used against a trans woman, the idea that to criticize the disregard of WLW relationships is to criticise “AFAB people in fandom” as a whole is a gross assumption that sapphic transfem people (who were the ones mostly criticising this aspect in fandom) do not experience misogyny and that’s blatantly incorrect and a way of enforcing TERF ideology as misogyny being something only AFAB people can face and be affected by. This strange separation of “queer afab population” and sapphic transfems is disturbing as we’re not seen as “woman enough” to be able to spot issues and misogyny in fandom.

In fact, this entire “discourse” revealed how transmisogyny-exempt people (TME) cannot choose between calling sapphic transfem people criticising the clear chasm between MLM and WLW fan content “man-hating TERFs” for calling out misogyny or “dirty misogynistic males” for daring to say anything that hurts their feelings, that they themselves feel disturbed at an accurate analysis of their behaviour. That, because we are AMAB or intersex, that our opinions come from a place of HATING them instead of concern of repeating the cycle.

In relation to this argument, the massive and most upsetting defence is the belief that wlw media, especially the Japanese medium yuri was created to cater to men and was written by men. This is falsely equated to the majority of western “lesbian” pornography and BL, often written for women by women. This is ahistorical and troubling, to say the least. Yuri as a medium was created by sapphics, especially lesbians, for other sapphics in Japan and while not without issues (the strange lack of butch women in the medium), it’s just as abundant with variety as BL and often closer to the sapphic experience.

However, another reason for the disdain of yuri/wlw media is the belief that women straight up cannot exist in fan content or media without a reason.

To use terminology that originated in fandom, female characters and therefore female-oriented casts were approached with a “Doylist” mindset while male characters are approached with a “Watsonian” mindset. The woman has to have a real-life justification for being that way, for having certain traits and is disregarded while a male character can have the exact same traits and role but fandom will see it in an in-universe sense, “he’s like that because of [in story explanation]” while the female character would be “she’s like that because the writer hates women or wants to subvert expectations”, it’s bizarre and an obvious point towards misogyny but it’s ignored because acknowledging it means acknowledging the problematic way to criticising writing women.

This very reasoning also extends to fan content where fans will refuse to write women for this exact reason: they see a woman have the same trait as a male character and wave her off as badly written for daring to even have it. Many traits male characters are applauded for, and female characters are degraded for having even unknowingly by the audience.

This goes doubly so for any lesbian character existing but instead, the disdain comes from a self-righteous idea that she exists to please men by being sapphic (lesbianism as a fetish) rather than being created for the sake of women. She has to exist for the pleasure of men and men alone and any qualities she has is immediately degraded for the sake of the male characters even if she exists beyond them. Out of the need to defend women from misogynistic characterization, it further inflicts it by assuming all female characters are written with this in mind and thus strips them away in favour for the male characters.

In fact, even blandness is accepted with men within media when it comes to fandom while a common criticism of WLW media is the “blandness”, seeing the same old trope play over and over as if it isn’t extremely common in BL and especially heterosexual romance. Although, this point is slowly being rectified as BL and heterosexual romances have also began facing criticism for overuse of cliches.

In conclusion, most of the defences for wlw media being frankly unpopular and disregarded are founded on transmisogyny, lesbophobia and a misguided yet failing attempt to absolve oneself from misogyny which only allows fandom to reinforce the ouroboros that is the societal hatred of women, both in real life and online spaces.

[treemaidengeek]

ooooooh for the ship classification... which MDZS ship to pick? Hrmmmmmmm... not knowing your ships (except your header is LanLan right?) maybe a softball Nevermind, your ask went all the way there, so: Twin Jades (fraternal, not romantic), Song Lan/Lan Xichen (I would LOVE a treatise on this), good ole WangXian and... Wen Qing/Jiang Yanli?

hello! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

oooh so I'm gonna answer out of order

fraternal Twin Jades: makes sense, somewhat compels me. Literally one of the more important canonical relationships and I certainly have a lot of feels about it. I love a good story that explores the different ways they were shaped, as individuals and in relationship to one another, by the joys and hardships of their young lives. But I rarely seek out or write stories that focus on this dynamic - rather, I look for it as a strong secondary thread.

Wangxian: makes sense, compels me. It's hard to be in the fandom and not love these two and their story! But I most often read & write fic focused on secondary characters. Wangxian have a complete arc. I'm more curious about those who are left with threads hanging, & exploring the what-ifs and spaces that canon skirts around.

Wen Qing / Jiang Yanli: somewhat make sense, doesn't compel me. Look, I know this is the most popular wlw ship in this fandom, and I want to love it for that alone but I just... don't. It's fine. It can be really sweet, even. But JYL needs a partner who is gentle with her and dotes on her, and WQ needs a partner who with snap back and challenge her. WQ is gentle and doting to exactly two people in her life: her sickly baby brother, and a literal toddler. That's not the right energy for an equal partnership. And while JYL absolutely has a spine and can stand up to her loved ones, that's not how she prefers to move through the world. She smiles and fondly watches her brothers' antics, and doesn't join in. I can see them developing a mutual caretaker relationship (WQ: "fucking rest and take care of your own health for once" JYL: "I will if you will") I suppose.

Song Lan / Lan Xichen: makes sense, compels me. This is my second head-over-heels ship love in this fandom (after & surpassing 3zun). My best treatise is my 48k series about them (each work is standalone & they range from a few hundred words to 20k+), but the elevator pitch treatise is... they are two men two love deeply and passionately and are left alone and grieving as canon moves on from their stories. They both suffered loss and the most intimate of betrayals. They both did their best and made wholly human mistakes and failed their loved ones, and have to somehow live with that guilt and shame.

Song Lan never was much for conversation. Xichen secluded himself in silence. Xichen's seclusion loosens the strictures of the Lan's routines and the heavy responsibilities he was literally born to carry; Song Lan was temple-raised and long ago chose the comparative freedom of wanderer's life. They're both idealists who have spent their lives, in their separate ways, striving to make the world a kinder and safer place.

Most stories I've seen about them are post canon, ft them navigating the complexities of finding healing and love again after traumatic loss. As a pairing they tend to attract skillful, thoughtful writers who do fantastic character studies (though it's grown enough that I can no longer say I've read everything & know everyone).

OH MY GODS TUMBLR THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOUR DIFFERENT HERBALS AND ONE UM ACTUALLY. WHY YOU GOTTA MAKE ME LOOK LIKE A WEIRDO SNOB

[theg-unit]

141 (and friends) professional and  personal Specialty Headcannons.

also I dipped for a hot minute but I spent that time reading twitter thread fics like the internet goblin I am and falling into the multi shipper hole that is PriceNik and poly141 so here are more Headcannons about our favs. 

(also no I won't write Konig Headcannons, I don't like him. pls stop asking)

Areas of interest: academic and personal.

-soap is good at chemistry and chemical equations. the man has the periodic table tattooed on the back of his eyelids and nothing will stop him from making an IED out of literally the most random shit. also knows a concerning amount about atomic physics.  but he also has a passion for all poetry and writes little sonnets in his sketchbook for his partners.

-Price is really good at languages. he's a certified multilingual and is constantly learning. his favourite part is learning niche regional dialects. he is fluent in conversation in all major languages and can speak conversationally in at least 30 others. he also really enjoys horticulture. he can name 50 different grasses according to Laswell.

- Ghost specialises in trigonometry. he can do it mentally on the fly and often comes out correct. he uses it in his sniping, allowing him to be sent on more solo missions, without the need for a spotter. coincidently his secondary talent is navigation, he is bizarrely good at maps and geo guessing games but also used to do orienteering tournaments before his “death”. after the alone mission, despite only being told where the safe house was, ghost seemed to find his way there, without a map, from a city he had only been in for like a week. I like to think his internal sense of direction is like homing pigeon level. you could stick him anywhere and he could immediately find his way back. 

-Gaz is an all-round science man, a jack-of-all-trades. he has a comprehensive knowledge of biology, chemistry, physics, geology and the niche areas as well. zoology, astrophysics, ecology, palaeontology, psychology, genetics astronomy, botany, microbiology and the list goes on. you'll never meet someone with so much knowledge of the natural, social and formal sciences. he's not at university level but he has a thorough understanding of the concepts and case studies for all. he can comprehend the advanced concepts as well. its helped the 141 out of some tight spots. coincidently his personal interest is reading. his room on base and his apartment is full of academic journals and natgeo magazines.

-Alejandro. Mechanical engineering. The colonel of the Los Vaqueros can fix anything with duct tape and a prayer, but he also can build the most robust (and more importantly) high-functioning machinery. all repairs to their vehicles and heavy weaponry on base are done by Alejandro, simply because he doesn’t trust anyone else with the machines that keep his men safe. he also enjoys doing it, it gives him some time to wind down and just tinker with things. His secret talent is weaving and braiding. he was taught by his abuela to not only weave scarves and things like carpets, but also to braid her hair and his sisters once she got too old. (I head cannon him as the oldest and they all lived with their grandma cause their parents died.) he used to braid Valerias hair (as an mlm/wlw besties thing) before she betrayed them. he braided Gaz’s hair once they bonded over engineering.

-Rudolfo. Rudy is an expert in law. more specifically domestic and international criminal law, but he also keeps up with all legal disciplines. due to the proximity of Las Almas to the border, he also keeps up to date with USA law. He's a life saver in sticky jurisdiction missions. he also manages the compounds paperwork for requests. he has a silver tongue that translates to requisition forms. his personal passion is painting though. he feels that sometimes words aren't enough to describe things and loves painting landscapes and the little moments, like a flowering cactus in the middle of the night but also its death the next morning. he knows how fleeting life can be in his profession, and wants to capture all aspects. hopefully more with Ale if they retire.

-Laswell. Algorithms. typical of a spook Kate is an expert in cryptographic algorithms. she spent a few years as a cipher breaker/creator in her early career and hasn't lost her touch since moving to intelligence. all of her transmissions to her sources are hand encrypted and they have a key delivered separately. she creates them herself so that they can't be deciphered. she also does it completely in her head, nothing is typed out. her time off is spent back on her wife's farm, as her passion is animal husbandry. they raise goats, sheep, some assorted fowl and a smaller herd of cattle together.  she has an Australian Shepard and a kelpie/blue heeler dog that she trained herself. 

-Nik is an expert in psychology. not in your typical clinical way, but the body language, tone of voice, mindset and “takes one look and deciphers your whole life” way. His experience is immense and he applies it all the time. he can tell when a prisoner is lying in interrogation and when he's been made during undercover. Nik knows people, and frequently uses his observations to do things like blatantly walk into a restricted area with only confidence and a blank lanyard. the Russian is unparalleled in putting himself in the enemies mind space or pulling off dangerous acts in a crowded area. he’s been teaching gaz some tricks (e.g. the Amsterdam cafe mission). But on the side, he is an excellent barber. haircuts of any length and a full on old fashioned shave, with a straight razor and everything, is his special talent. he does price’s moustache, Jonnys mohawk (even though he thinks its ugly when short), learnt how to give gas a full hair treatment and even does Kates hair. he uses it for missions of course (its a great source of intel) but he also finds it to be a way to show care to his people. 

bonus:

Valeria: main specialty-economics and accounting. special interest-botany (but strictly focusing on poisonous and hallucinogenic plants)

Graves: main specialty: aeronautics. special interest-being a backstabbing bitch? jk, he's actually super into smoking and curing meats. if he had joined 141 he and ghost would have eventually found common ground there. (ghost actually enjoyed his career as a butchers apprentice)

anyway that's it for now, and I'll try upload more often. feel free to repost on other platforms with credit, my twitter @ is @macG_Unit. also let me know if anyone writes pics based off these, id love to read them. 

[antelopunny]

T…THANKS ???

more thoughts under the cut (cw: uncensored homophobic slurs)

OK SO MY FIRST REACTION WAS alright this commentor’s probably fresh to fandom / autistic (as an autistic person myself, who has said foot-in-mouth shit like this before and still do ALL THE TIME) so I was like alright… they might just need someone to explain why it’s pretty fucking rude to insinuate that their wlw fic is inferior in any way to a het one, even if you’re praising their writing

BUT

I also know that my fic has been discussed on the 4chan Rogue Trader threads on /v/ and they all take the same stance that my writing quality is really good, but they really wish it (quote) “wasn’t dyke shit” (and then had an argument about how disliking yuri was actually a sign you’re gay)

SO LIKE…

[bluedalahorse]

wlw in the sad swedish teens show: some thoughts

I’m going to share some stedrika thoughts, not as a meta, just as a kind of… sharing of my unsolicited personal opinions. There was a thread going around with some idea-provoking discussion, but I also feel like I’d be hijacking said thread if I weighed in. So I figured it was better to make my own post and chat there.

So I’m aro ace, but I also kind of identify with the label sapphic. I’m more gray ace than full ace, and that grayness of ace identity is 90% of the time directed toward women. I was in a romantic-sexual partnership with a woman for 2.5 years before figuring more things out. (Also, my ex was pretty toxic, so there was that.) I attended a single-sex college, continue to hang in groups of women today, and just generally exist in a social culture that leans more sapphic/wlw, homosocial, and ace. Probably the most masculinity-dominated experiences I have are logging onto my dash and watching fandom interaction that is a lot more mlm-focused than the rest of my life.

In the gap between seasons 1 and 2, I wasn’t hoping for stedrika as my wlw representation. I was hoping we would get gay or bi or ace or otherwise queer Felice. It isn’t too hard to make up a queer narrative for Felice. She connects with Wilhelm, who’s also figuring himself out, and we know how it is with the queer kids all finding one another even before they fully understand themselves what’s going on. Felice’s pursuit of Wilhelm and then pivoting to August also feels like she’s hitting the two ends of the spectrum of compulsory heterosexuality. Wilhelm is that nice, approachable boy where it’s easy to convince yourself you have a crush on him, because who wouldn’t? Also he’s a prince! August is that guy where you’re like “well if the idea of dating men is generally unpleasant all around, then dating the most unpleasant one is doing heterosexuality right, isn’t it?” Felice’s mom also puts a lot of pressure on her about boys (and that line about whose babies are royal feels like it’s something Felice would have been told growing up) in a way where you can parallel it to Kristina putting pressure on Wilhelm. There’s a lot of good queer and wlw material to work with for Felice! And I’m glad fandom hasn’t entirely given up on that, even if it doesn’t seem like canon is going that direction. (Send me your gay Felice fics where she’s the center of the story, btw. Send themmmm.)

Stedrika as wlw representation brushes up against the archetype of two femme best friends who are also roommates, one of whom is secretly pining for the other, one of whom may or may not be pining back. That archetype in its requited form is… not my favorite wlw archetype. I don’t mean I hate it, but I do mean I’m pretty “meh” about it. I read a lot of YA fiction, for both personal enjoyment and career reasons. Best-friends-to-lovers wlw comes up a lot, especially in stories where a wlw couple isn’t the center of the story. It can be enjoyable for me, if the characterization is complex enough overcome the trope itself. But I can’t help noticing how many mlm YA stories let a boy crush on the hot new boy, or someone outside his usual social circle, whereas the message for girls is “the one for you has been near you all along! Girls achieve an adventure by clicking their heels and saying There’s No Place Like Home!”

I understand that the sapphic girl with a crush on her bestie is a trope that has some basis in reality, and for some folks it can be really empowering to see those kinds of pairs get a Happily Ever After together. I also think it can be empowering for the female character with the sapphic crush to come to the realization (either through rejection or other circumstances) that her bestie isn’t going to like her back that way, but she does understand herself better now. And she’s going to use that knowledge to build herself up and explore new values and seek out new wlw relationships and join the queer revolution. Hahaha you can tell what sort of storyline I prefer. Truth be told I would be more interested in a story where Fredrika doesn’t requite Stella’s feelings and Stella has to reinvent herself than I would a story where suddenly they love each other. I’m sure the YR writing team would make the latter interesting too, but if they gave me a choice between the latter and the former and promised they would be equally well written, I’d pick the latter.

Here’s the other thing about stedrika. I don’t entirely find them boring. I do like them! This is going to sound like me being a problematic queer, maybe, but… I like the fact that they’re mean. Not in a “you go girl!” sort of way where I’m cheering on their meanness and tendency to gossip. I don’t want them to stay mean. But I do find it interesting that Stella at least is hiding some part of her authentic self, and she and Fredrika haven’t gotten to discuss something honestly, and the price they pay is lashing out at others for their authenticity, especially their authenticity around romantic feelings. I think there’s some interesting narrative questions to explore then, in terms of how do you learn to embrace others and yourself? What toll does it take, being closeted? How do you empower yourself within structures that are harming you—is hurting other people going to do it? Like gosh, that’s a whole character arc! I also think it’s really interesting how Lisa and the writing team have addressed the role that misogyny and assumptions around sex and physicality play in oppressing wlw queer folks. Like that whole discussion around what counts as “real sex” and losing one’s virginity that we see at Sara’s birthday sleepover. That was interesting to see play out onscreen and I’m glad they went there! (Send me your fics about messy stedrika, send themmmm. Send these girls on some kind of journey.)

Anyway, I’m also glad that stedrika is not the only wlw representation we have in Young Royals. Because we also have Rosh, who I absolutely adore with every fiber of my being. Rosh isn’t white or upper class, and she’s more tomboyish and comparatively less femme. She talks about her rebound after dating Yasmin/Yasmina, and there’s this wonderful sapphic chaos quality to it. She’s an openly queer girl in a best friendship with an openly queer boy, and you can tell that she and Simon lean on one another and probably came out to one another in middle school. (I think I have read this fic a few times, but I will always read more of it!) I love Rosh’s sense of justice and how committed she is to athletics and making sure Simon succeeds on the rowing team even if, as we all know, rowing isn’t a sport. Overall Rosh feels very specific and that makes her very real. Also I can’t resist a confident soccer lesbian, obviously I imprinted on Keira Knightly and Parminder Nagra in Bend It Like Beckham like every other queer girl born in the late 1980s.

Anyway. I actually think YR has a ton to offer us in terms of potential wlw representation, and interesting stories and characters that can be explored. (It has a lot to offer us in terms of female characters, period. I wish I had the time and fandom knowhow to create a female character centered ficathon. Is there any interest out there?)

The weird thing is I don’t know if I would feel confident writing this post at all if I hadn’t put in over 100k words of effort in fanfic for this fandom, most of it from female characters’ POVs. Some of that is het, sure, but I’m really, really proud of the sapphic self-discovery arc we gave Felice in Heart and Homeland. We let her struggle with her feelings at a time when she didn’t have the vocabulary for her feelings. We let Felice have a 19th century romantic friendship with Sara while also having sex and romances with other women, because lesbians can do both dammit. We let her kiss other women on the page, and do additional things beyond kissing also on the page. She was the first character we upped our rating to M for! We let her have friends-with-benefits hookups (because wlw characters shouldn’t always have to meet their forevergirl in their first girl) and we’re developing a new relationship in the upcoming chapters. (Okay, we did accidentally erase stedrika, because we wrote the first 19 chapters of our fic before season 2, and made occasional blink-and-you-miss-it references to a Stella/Henry sideplot. But let’s just say additional things are happening in the coming chapters.) I’m really happy with Felice’s storyline. I’m also happy that for a long time, I was the kid in fandom sighing and wishing there was more femslash, while feeling bad bad because I hadn’t written any myself. But now I have, and it feels a bit like achieving a Life Goal. I’m proud of myself!

And if you want to write femslash of your own, but you’ve always been a little scared or unsure of how to start? Hi. I’ll be your sounding board and your biggest cheerleader, if you want that. Tell me and we’ll have a lot of fun planning and writing! I BELIEVE IN YOU AND YOU ARE AMAZING.

[its-tea-time-darling]

🍉 Thomesa, Thominewt, Newtmas, Thominho, Nalby, Minally, Sonyariett, Minho/Alby (don't know the ship name), Thomaris, Minewby (Minho/Newt/Alby) for honest ship opinion? 🍉

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it

thank you for this anon:DD

to crest and saph who got a tag for this post: it's bc i recced your fics :D

Thomesa

Literal perfection, main character + his narrative foil, deontology vs. utilitarianism depicted in the most empathetic of ways, finally culminating and coming full circle in forgiveness and understanding of the complexitiy of the situation at "I tried."--"I know." Without Thomas and Teresa the story would not exist, and the arc they span over the series is by far the most powerful to me. OTP <3

All my Thomesa Fics on AO3, all my Thomesa Edits.

Thominewt

Fun! There's some really sweet fic for them out there, and I think they would have a wonderful dynamic!

Newtmas

I loved it when I first joined the fandom and then burned out of it a little. Difficult at times that it's so predominant in the fandom; if they're not one of your top ships you have to make a conscious effort to filter Newtmas content out for your own piece of mind. Also I seem to like different things about them than many of the other shippers so I don't vibe with all Newtmas content out there. Which is fair and valid, the reasons people like certain ships are manifold and varied, which is exactly what makes fandom as wonderful as it is. <3

Thominho

A bit of the same as Newtmas, when I discovered it I loved it a lot, but I think I've since written and read about them plenty and I'm more or less saturated on them. Mostly I wrote As Long as I Watch Over You as a canon compliant fic, and to me that's exactly the way they could get together.

Nalby

It took me a long time to see them (mainly due to how Alby commits suicide in the books which is just not something I cope with well), but now I like them a lot! However I do find it a tedious ship to fix since Alby dies so early on in the series. weaving golden threads of fate was the first (and so far only) nalby fic i've written. (This one is canonverse though.)

Minally

Cool! They're definitely interesting characters to smash together bc they're both so stubborn and full of themselves (while at the same time probably harboring deep insecurities). I love Marathon Man by @crestfallercanyon

Sonyarriet

Love! I have a started Glade fic for them (Run, Baby, Run) that I really hope to finish one day. It's going to start out as them butting heads often and have a.. repressed feelings to lovers arc. :P

What I can say though is that many people seem to love a fluffy and wholesome arc for them in mostly sfw fics, so as an angst, tragedy, darkfic and smut lover there's not as much for me out there. (There seems to be a general trend for wlw content being much more wholesome and fluffy than mlm content, the reasons for which are varied and complex.)

Minalby

LOVE!!!!!!!!!! Especially at the glade I think they could have amazing dynamics!!! The way Minho comes back from running the maze in the first book and flops down onto the ground and commands Alby to get him water laksdjfalkjsfdsdajklf. (Also a nice ship: Minewby!! (Minho x Newt x Alby))

Thomaris

Cute! I have them in a depressing bookverse post canon fic that's Thomeris (Thomas x Teresa x Aris) where Aris is completely distraught about Rachel's death: Where did you go

Minewby

Ah lol there you go! I think they could be wonderful! @onceuponabluemoon has one of the few fics on ao3 about them: the Icarus to your certainty

[unioncolours]

Hi Bex! 💜

🤔 What’s one genre you’ve never written that you’d like to try?

Hi, Mon, thank you for the ask in the fanfic ask game 💕

I am rather versatile in my writing and reach far and wide to different genres despite keeping my own personal touch.

So far I've written in fics:

Adventure & Action

Only romance focused

Porn without plot (wlw)

Porn with plot (mlm, f/m and wlw)

Cute, fluffy slice of life nonsense

Nothing but angst sadness

Epic long form action

Short form action

Historical

I would dare to call Labyrinth of Confusion a psychological thriller

Open endings AND closed full circle endings

In OG fiction I've written:

High fantasy

Urban fantasy (aka supernatural modern world)

Modern contemporary

Steampunk

So I have written quite the list of different genres :D For fanfic tropes on the other hand, I have a lot I have not written because of preferences or whatnot.

A (novel) genre I have not written would be a pure (murder) mystery or pure horror. I've not read any horror outside Lovecraft so I don't feel confident in writing that. A murder mystery would be fun to write, but I have no interest in reading them, so I don't know how well I would perform writing them. A pure letter format would be fun too, but I don't think a fic reading audience would accept a letter fic on AO3.

Socmed fics on twt/tumblr would however be gobbled down and THAT is a genre I would LOVE to try out 😍 Too bad it requires a lot of storage on the phone (and I hate working/typing on the phone hahah) and there is not a simple enough function to upload them (I dislike twt's bad thread functions, and tumblr would not work optimally, and AO3 would require coding to get the images in). It's simply an effort I don't think I can do when I am so used to writing traditionally. But man it would be fun.

Thank you for asking 💜

[fahye]

(1/?) Freya!!!!! I apologise in advance, this ask is going to be all over the place. Since I discovered your ao3 profile many, many years ago, you've been one of those auto-read authors for me, the kind you follow blindly and faithfully into fandoms you've never heard of, and crucially, the kind who always, always deliver. I must have read your capri ficS fifty times EACH, i revisit them like every six months, they're so good (ALSO!! Those fic are the reason I discovered the capri trilogy, SO THANK YOU FOR THAT!!!) ANYWAY!! That is to say, when you announced that you were publishing your first original novel, I was SO excited. And AML did not disappoint, it had everything that made me fall in love with your writing in the first place, fascinating world building, and characters i want to kiss on the forehead and tuck into my pockets (AND MAGICAL HOUSES!!!! Bestest of tropes). I read it around the time it came out and I couldn't wait for the sequel. And then I learned what the sequel was actually going to be about and ART immediately became my most anticipated book of the year. Every tidbit you divulged made me go to goodreads and stare at the publication date for full minutes like sheer longing was going to magically make it sooner.

(2/3 now I think) Magical murder mystery! Sapphics!!! ON BOATS!!! It sounded like it was going to be the book of dreams. AND IT WAS!!!!!! It was sooooo gooood. I loved everything about it: the plot (delightful, delightful, and delightful. A VALISE FULL OF PORNOGRAPHY!!! WILD ANIMALS RUNNING AMOK!! A FAKE REAL SEANCE!!! God, just thinking about it makes me so happy), the characters (i loved everyone so dearly!!! Even the background characters were painted so vividly and charmingly, and of course the orgy quartet HAS MY WHOLE HEART!!! Both individually and together. Special mentions go to Lord Hawthorn, the aristocratic asshole of my heart, AND MAUDIE!!!! She was so complex and wonderul, and I just saw you one post where you described her as a lesbian miles vorkosigan, which????!?!?!?! I'D NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT LIKE THAT BUT YES ABSOLUTELY, my most beloved brilliant disaster generals… AND OH, SHE'S EVEN ON A BOAT, SO "ADMIRAL" IS FITTING), and of course the prose… genuinely so astonishingly, consistently beautiful. I can't think of any other books where sentences regularly make me stop to marvel at how gorgeously crafted and evocative they are, at the cleverness of the pictures they paint, without taking me out of the story. And the consistent music imagery throughout the book, a connecting thread in both povs!!! I hope we get to see the girls at Spinet House in book three. And the sex scenes of course… you are a master!!!! So sexy and lush, and such excellent character studies at the same time, I am in awe. Also, so happy to see excellent, explicit wlw smut!!!! Not enough of it out there!!! Which of course brings me to the relationships…. AHHHHH SO GOOD. SO GOOD!! The joy and discovery and tension and building trust of Maud and Violet, the excellent dynamics of the quartet, but also Maud and Hawthorn, UNEXPECTEDLY MAYBE MY FAVORITE DUO, and omg, the way you depict even "off page" relationships, ie maud and edwin, maud and robin, robin and edwin… so much feeling and tenderness and care!!!! You don't need to be told that they love each other, it comes across so, so clearly. ALSO (last one I promise) FORSYTHIA CLUB BACKSTORY!!! Flora and Beth crushed my heart underfoot) 

(3/3) ANYWAY ALL OF THIS TO SAY…. ART was so much FUN!!!!! A treat from beginning to end, one of my fave reads this year. AND A POWER UNBOUND IS ALREADY MY MOST ANTICIPATED BOOK OF NEXT YEAR, which… is going to be thought, given that it's a whole 12 months away, womp womp. I can't wait to get more of lord hawthorn (who i hoped would be a future book protag on very first appearance in aml!!!), i want to pry him open like a clam and peer into his brain, and of alan ross, and of their DELICIOUS dynamic… also looking forward to learning more about elsie alston and to see the whole gang interact, magical houses included!!! Anyway, that is all, I apologise for the insane amount of capslock and exclamation points, I just wanted to make sure my appreciation got across, I LOVE THE LAST BINDING THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS WONDERFUL SERIES, I WISH YOU MUCH JOY IN WRITING AND I CAN'T WAIT RO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT!!

anon I am so sorry I had to Read More your message because in the depths of my soul I want to frame it, decoupage it, enclose it in enamel with little flecks of gold leaf, shove it in the face of everyone who visits my house, etc. 

this is like when you open a ‘someone left a comment’ email from ao3 and your face does a weird :DDDDDDDD thing with each subsequent scroll-down you have to do to read the whole thing. thank you?? you’re so lovely and this message filled me with joy.

and I can say with full confidence that the theme of music continues in book 3, and that I have shoved my knife RIGHT into the clam-shell hinges of lord hawthorn for you all.

thank you again! I hope 2023 brings you many enjoyable things, and that my book is one of them.