#fast burn

[noorpersona]

Rivalry: Atsumu Pt. 3

The morning sunlight streamed through the cracked window, golden rays spilling over the tangled mess of sheets and the scattered remnants of the night before. Outside, birds chirped in the early quiet, their songs a stark contrast to the utter wreckage inside the room.

You groaned as consciousness pulled you from the depths of exhaustion, a dull, persistent ache spreading through your body. Every muscle protested as you attempted to move, soreness radiating from the very core of you. Fucking hell.

Shifting slightly, you became aware of the steady rise and fall of someone else's breathing beside you. Your gaze flickered to your left, and sure enough—Atsumu Miya, sprawled out, snoring like a chainsaw, one arm flung over his head, the other lazily draped across your waist.

That smug bastard.

You blinked, your brain still foggy, your limbs still heavy with exhaustion, and then—

Oh. Right.

Your eyes darted around your bedroom, the aftermath of last night coming into focus. Condom wrappers littered the floor, some torn open in haste, others carelessly discarded. Tied-off condoms rested in evidence of just how many times you had let him ruin you. The air was thick with the lingering scent of sweat, sex, and something undeniably Atsumu.

You clenched your jaw. You let this happen. Multiple times.

Your body throbbed in agreement. Yeah. No shit.

Gritting your teeth, you slowly pushed his arm off of you and began the excruciating process of getting up. The second you sat up, white-hot soreness shot through your thighs, your stomach tightening from the sheer ache of overuse. A hiss escaped you as you gingerly swung your legs over the bed, muscles screaming in protest.

"Goddamn it, Miya," you muttered under your breath, wincing as you stood. Your legs wobbled dangerously, knees threatening to buckle before you caught yourself on the edge of your desk.

That cocky asshole fucked you stupid.

You cursed him again, more viciously this time, before dragging yourself toward the bathroom, muttering a string of colorful profanities as you went. A hot shower was the only thing that might save you now.

The sight in the bathroom mirror was humiliating.

Your hair was a tangled disaster, barely clinging to the remnants of the ponytail you had thrown it into at some point last night, stray strands sticking to your forehead and neck. Tugging the elastic free, you ran your fingers through the knots, hissing slightly as you tried to tame the mess. And then your gaze caught the deep, bruise-like hickey from your very first encounter, still staining the side of your neck, dark and undeniable.

Fucking fantastic.

Rolling your eyes, you reached for the shower handle, twisting it until steam began to rise. The second the warm water hit your skin, your muscles sighed in relief. You let out a breath, resting your forehead against the cool tile as last night replayed in your head.

How the hell had this happened?

More importantly—why the fuck had it been so good? It had been so long since you’d had genuinely good sex, since someone had touched you like that, made you come apart so completely. And it just had to be him. Of all the people in the world, it had to be Atsumu Miya.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. He had been too good—an irritatingly smug bastard with a filthy mouth and a body that knew exactly how to work yours. He had torn you apart, left you in shambles, ruined you, and the worst part? You wanted more.

Shaking your head, you rinsed the suds from your hair, trying to push the thought away as you finished up. When you stepped out, fresh and clean, you felt marginally better—until you walked back into your room.

He was still there. Still sprawled out, still snoring, dead to the world like he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

You scowled.

The audacity of this man.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped up to his side, glaring down at him. With a sharp flick to his forehead, you muttered, "Hey, this isn’t a bed and breakfast. Go home."

Atsumu groaned, shifting slightly but refusing to open his eyes. His golden hair was an absolute mess, strands sticking up in chaotic tufts, evidence of how thoroughly you had pulled at it throughout the night. His broad shoulders flexed lazily as he rolled onto his stomach, the curve of his back leading down to the sheets pooling dangerously low at his waist. The way his muscles shifted with the movement sent an unwanted spark of heat through you—fucking unfair.

His voice, thick with sleep and laced with satisfaction, rumbled through the room. "God, for how well I fucked you, you’d think you’d be less of a bitch," he mumbled, barely lifting his head before burying his face into your pillow, exhaling deeply like he had all the time in the world.

Your nostrils flared. Oh, hell no.

With zero hesitation, you ripped the blanket off of him, exposing his very naked form to the cool morning air. He let out a disgruntled noise, blindly reaching for the covers, but you had already thrown his underwear at his face.

"Get dressed and get out before your brother starts wondering where the hell you’ve been."

Atsumu groaned into the mattress, arms tucked under his head like he didn’t have a single care in the world. "S’too early for this," he grumbled.

Your glare intensified. "Miya. Get. Up."

He peeked at you from beneath his lashes, that lazy smirk creeping onto his face like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Y’know, sweetheart, ya didn’t seem too eager for me to leave last night. If I remember correctly, ya were beggin’ me to stay inside ya."

You saw red.

Lunging forward, you smacked him upside the head with a pillow, sending him coughing into the sheets. "Shut the fuck up and put your pants on!"

Atsumu wheezed out a laugh, rubbing his head as he sat up, his toned body stretching with a satisfied groan. "Aight, aight, I’m goin’—no need to get violent."

You rolled your eyes as he slid into his clothes, his stupid smirk never leaving his face. As soon as his shirt was on, he strolled up to you, eyes raking over you in nothing but your towel.

"Y’know," he mused, cocking his head, "I could just stay. Help ya recover."

Your eye twitched. This man had no shame.

Grabbing his hoodie from the floor, you shoved it into his chest. "Out."

He chuckled, stepping through the doorway before pausing, glancing over his shoulder.

"See ya at practice, sweetheart. Try not to miss me too much."

You crossed your arms. "Oh, suck my dick."

Atsumu’s smirk widened instantly. "I’ll do that next time."

Your face flamed as his words registered, but before you could react, he was already laughing, dodging your attempt to shove him as he disappeared down the hall, leaving you standing there, breathless, flustered, and ready to launch something at his retreating figure. That bastard.

~~

The morning sun had risen higher by the time Atsumu finally dragged himself out of your house, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket as he walked back home. The crisp morning air did little to clear his head. His body ached—not in a bad way, but in that thoroughly-used, completely-spent kind of way, muscles sore from hours of exertion. Every step sent a reminder of exactly what he had been doing all night, and with whom.

And his mind?

It was a fucking mess.

He wasn’t dumb. He knew exactly what this was. You hated his guts, and he gave you just as much shit in return. That wasn’t changing anytime soon. You were bossy, relentless, always looking for a way to put him in his place—and goddammit, it infuriated him.

But last night?

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face as flashes of you—your legs tangled with his, the way your breath had hitched every time he pushed deeper, how you had fought him for control—flooded his mind.

Fuck.

He could still feel you, phantom traces of your nails scraping down his back, the warmth of your body, the way your thighs had locked around him like you were daring him to stop. And that look on your face when you finally gave in? Yeah, that shit was burned into his memory.

And damn it all, it was the best sex he’d ever had.

Atsumu wasn’t naive—he’d been with girls before, and sure, he liked to think he was good in bed. No one had ever complained. But with you?

It was different.

Not just the sex—though, fuck, it was phenomenal—but the build-up. The tension, the aggression, the way you had fought him every step of the way, and still melted under him just the same. It made his blood run hotter, his instincts sharper, like every second with you was some kind of battle he was dying to win.

And now? Now he had fucked you senseless, and instead of feeling satisfied like he normally would, his body was already itching to do it again.

He exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as his house came into view. His entire body felt heavy, spent, and the only thing on his mind now was crashing into his bed and sleeping for the next eight hours. Maybe then he could stop thinking about the way your breathy moans had completely wrecked him.

"Shit."

The front door creaked open as he stepped inside, toeing off his shoes. The kitchen was quiet, but a note caught his attention, stuck to the fridge with a volleyball magnet.

Went to grab groceries. Be back later. Try not to destroy the house.

Atsumu huffed a small, tired laugh and crumpled the note in his fist before heading down the hall, desperate for the sleep he hadn’t gotten. His bed was calling him, and he could already feel the exhaustion creeping up his limbs, finally ready to crash.

But the second he stepped into his bedroom, a familiar voice made him pause.

"I covered for you last night, you know."

Atsumu barely spared his twin a glance, too tired to argue. "Uh huh. Thanks."

Osamu was sitting up on his own bed, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. "So, you’re just not gonna tell me where you were last night?"

Atsumu groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair before flopping face-first onto his mattress. "Samu, I swear to god, I’m too tired for this."

Osamu, unimpressed, leaned back against the headboard, watching his twin like he could see through his bullshit already. "That so? ‘Cause ya look like ya got hit by a truck."

Atsumu grunted into his pillow. Yeah. A truck named you.

Osamu let the silence stretch between them before sighing. "Was it a girl?"

Atsumu tensed for half a second before he forced his body to relax, rolling onto his side, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Does it matter?"

"It does when yer actin’ all weird about it." Osamu's tone was far too knowing for Atsumu's liking. His twin wasn’t one to pry, but he was also damn observant, and Atsumu had no doubt that if he wasn’t careful, Osamu would piece everything together before the day was over.

Atsumu exhaled heavily. "Can ya just let me sleep?"

Osamu narrowed his eyes, something clicking into place behind them. "Wait a second... You were actin’ weird as hell yesterday, and the manager didn’t even show up to practice in the afternoon..."

Atsumu forced his expression to stay neutral, shoving down the immediate impulse to react. "What? You think I was with her?" He scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Relax, Samu. It was just some girl from class—Airi Sakamoto."

Osamu didn’t say anything for a second, but Atsumu felt him still watching. Weighing his words. Judging his reaction.

"Huh." Osamu finally leaned back against the headboard. "Didn’t think ya liked Airi."

Atsumu shrugged, doing his best to sound unaffected. "Nothin’ serious. Just some fun."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

The way Osamu said it made Atsumu’s skin itch. Like he wasn’t entirely convinced, but he also wasn’t going to push—yet. His twin was perceptive as hell, but thankfully, he wasn’t nosy unless something really bugged him.

Atsumu exhaled slowly, trying to let his body relax. Good. This’ll blow over.

Osamu didn’t push any further, but Atsumu knew better than to assume this was over. His twin had that look, the one that said he wasn’t entirely buying it but was willing to let it sit for now. Atsumu could only hope that was enough to keep him from digging further.

But as he finally closed his eyes, exhaustion pulling at his limbs, the image of you still wouldn’t leave his head.

This was gonna be a problem.

~~

Monday morning arrived far too quickly, the weight of the weekend still lingering in your muscles, your thoughts, your everything. The cold air bit at your skin as you made your way toward the gym, your feet dragging slightly despite your best efforts to act normal. You had spent the entire weekend trying—desperately trying—to push everything that had happened with Atsumu to the back of your mind. But now, with practice looming ahead, it felt like all of it was crawling right back up your throat.

How the hell were you supposed to pretend like nothing had happened?

It had been two days. Forty-eight hours since you had let Atsumu ruin you, and now you had to walk into practice and act like you hadn’t spent half the weekend moaning his name. Like he hadn’t touched you in ways you could still feel.

Fucking fantastic.

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you took a deep breath. It was fine. You just had to do what you always did—be civil enough to get through practice without anyone suspecting a damn thing. You could ignore him. You could pretend that nothing was different.

You had to.

But it wasn’t just about ignoring him. No, that would have been too easy. Because the thing with Atsumu was that he wasn’t the type to just let things go. He was an asshole, a relentless one at that, and you had no doubt that the second he saw you, he was going to say something. He was going to look at you with that stupid fucking smirk, that self-satisfied, cocky-ass grin, and you were going to have to find a way not to strangle him in front of everyone.

Up ahead, you spotted Kita unlocking the gym doors, his usual composed demeanor unchanged. He glanced up as you approached, his sharp eyes immediately settling on you as he gave a small nod in greeting.

"Mornin'. Feelin' better?" he asked casually.

You froze mid-step. What?

Your brain went completely blank for a solid second before the realization slammed into you.

Oh. Right.

You had told Kita you were sick to get out of afternoon practice on Friday. Shit.

You forced your face into neutrality, schooling your features as quickly as you could. "Uh—" you blinked, then cleared your throat. "Yeah. Head cold."

Kita gave a small, approving nod, his expression unreadable. "Good. Glad you’re back."

You exhaled, relieved that he didn’t press further, though the reminder of your flimsy excuse only added to the pile of things to stress about today.

The real problem wasn’t Kita.

It was stepping into that gym and seeing Atsumu again.

You could already feel it, the weight of his presence, the way the air would shift the second you walked in. You knew him too well. You had been fighting with him for years. And now? Now you had to pretend like his hands hadn’t been all over you, like you hadn’t spent the weekend letting him fuck you in every way imaginable.

And the worst part? You had no idea how to handle it.

With one last deep breath, you squared your shoulders, plastering the most neutral expression you could manage onto your face, and followed Kita inside.

The gym was empty, still wrapped in the early morning quiet, save for the distant hum of the overhead lights flickering to life as Kita stepped ahead, checking the locks and switches with his usual efficiency. You made a beeline for the storage room, the familiar echo of your footsteps bouncing off the polished floors, each step grounding you in the routine—a routine you needed now more than ever.

Pulling out the cart of volleyballs, you set about your usual tasks, rolling out the net, setting up the poles, unfolding the mats in the corner of the gym—all movements embedded in your muscle memory, allowing your mind to drift even as your body worked.

But your thoughts weren’t cooperating.

Each small motion felt heavier today, like every act of normalcy was forcing your mind to ignore the very obvious elephant in the room: Atsumu fucking Miya.

The past weekend had unraveled something you weren’t ready to confront. The sharp, burning pull of hatred, desire, competition, frustration—it was still there, coiling beneath your skin like a live wire. How were you supposed to erase the feeling of his body against yours? The way he had looked at you in the dim light of your bedroom, golden eyes dark with something you refused to name? The way he had made you come undone over and over until you had lost track of time?

Your fingers curled around the net, gripping it too tightly.

You had to get a grip.

You gave your head a sharp shake, forcing the thoughts down, deep, deep down where they wouldn’t interfere with practice. Because that was all it was—practice. A normal morning, a normal routine. You just had to act normal.

And more importantly, you had to act like Atsumu didn’t still linger in the ache between your thighs, in the phantom press of his fingers along your waist, in the way your pulse picked up just thinking about him.

You scowled at yourself. Pathetic.

Straightening, you grabbed a volleyball from the cart, tossing it idly from one hand to the other, trying to reset your mind. The doors would open soon. The team would pile in. Atsumu would walk through that door.

And you needed to be ready.

It wasn’t long before the distant echo of voices signaled the arrival of the team, the usual mix of early morning grumbles and lighthearted banter filling the space as the gym doors swung open. You kept your focus on the net, adjusting its tension with a practiced ease, but it was impossible to ignore the way their presence shifted the atmosphere—the way his presence shifted the atmosphere.

A few of the guys greeted you as they passed, their voices casual, unaware of the storm inside your head.

"Hey, you feeling better?" one of them asked, pausing briefly near the cart of volleyballs.

You nodded, forcing a polite smile. "Yeah. Just a head cold."

"Glad you're back. Kita was worried."

That surprised you. Kita worried? You glanced toward the captain, who was already overseeing warm-ups with his usual composed expression. He must have noticed your hesitation because he gave a small nod of acknowledgment, as if to confirm the statement. Huh.

But then, you made a mistake.

Your gaze drifted across the gym, landing on him.

Atsumu had just stepped inside, his duffel slung lazily over one shoulder, his hair slightly disheveled as if he hadn’t bothered fixing it properly before rolling out of bed. The second your eyes met, he smirked.

Not just any smirk.

That smirk. The one that sent heat rushing up your neck, pooling low in your stomach, the one that made you clench your fists just to stop yourself from reacting. It was lazy, self-satisfied, and undeniably knowing—like he could still feel you on him, like he could still hear the way you moaned his name in the quiet of your room.

Your body betrayed you instantly.

A rush of heat, a sudden tightening in your core, a traitorous pulse between your legs that sent panic flaring through your mind. No. No, no, no.

You locked up, fingers tightening around the net’s frame, every ounce of rational thought crumbling beneath the weight of that goddamn smirk.

"Uh—earth to manager?"

You jolted slightly, blinking rapidly as Suna waved a hand in front of your face, his sharp eyes flickering with mild amusement. Shit.

"You good? You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I—" You cleared your throat, willing yourself to snap back to reality. "Yeah. Just—distracted."

Suna’s gaze lingered for a second too long before he shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "If you say so."

You exhaled sharply, heart still hammering against your ribs as you forced yourself to focus.

Practice was starting. You needed to get it together.

The drills started off as routine as ever, the rhythmic sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, volleyballs slamming against the net, and voices calling out sets filling the gym. You went about your usual duties, keeping water bottles filled, retrieving stray balls, observing. Everything was exactly as it should be. Almost.

Because you were noticing things you had never noticed before.

Atsumu had always been an impressive player. You knew that. His skill was the reason he was the starting setter of Inarizaki, the reason scouts were always eyeing him for future prospects. But you had never let yourself notice him like this before.

The way his muscles flexed every time he set the ball, the way his strong arms held complete control over the game, the sheer power behind every calculated move—it all felt too familiar. His body was built for this sport, lean but strong, his movements fluid and commanding, just like that night.

You swallowed hard, forcing your gaze to shift anywhere else. No. Absolutely not.

And yet, your thoughts kept circling back to him, back to the way he had moved over you, with the same precision, the same power. Your thighs clenched involuntarily, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to snap yourself out of it. This was insane. This was Atsumu. The same Atsumu who had spent years annoying the shit out of you, pushing your buttons, picking fights just to rile you up.

You needed to leave. Now.

The second practice ended, you grabbed your things and bolted, moving toward the exit before anyone could stop you. The last thing you needed was more time around him. You just had to make it to class, shake off whatever the hell was happening in your head, and forget—

A hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back into the shadow of the gym just as the rest of the team filtered out. Warm, calloused fingers wrapped around your skin, familiar and firm.

Atsumu.

You barely had time to register his presence before he was speaking, voice low enough that no one else could hear.

"My place'll be empty tonight," he said, his tone so damn casual you could have punched him. "Samu's got a project."

You scowled, immediately tugging your wrist from his grasp. "And why should I care?"

Atsumu didn’t answer right away, just raised a brow like he knew something you didn’t. Like he knew exactly what was going on in your head. And then, with that insufferable smirk, he said, "Come over after practice."

And then he walked away, leaving you pissed—because you knew in your heart that you were going.

[steddieunderdogfics]

The Adventure Challenge by QueenOfSwords1312

@midsummer-semantics

Rating: Explicit

7,264 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Pansexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Fluff and Humor, dating apps, TikTok, The brainworm that was, Semi Famous Eddie Munson, Mutual Pining, Fast Burn Pining, They're into each other from the get go, Concerts, First Dates, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, like this is a cloud, Good Friend Robin Buckley, First Kiss, First Time, Smut, obviously because it's me, Rimming, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending

Summary:

“I’m going on 50 first dates with strangers,” the man says, throwing a book up and catching it in his hands. “I got this book and it was originally meant for couples, but I thought it would be funny if I did it with complete strangers. It’s full of scratch-off date ideas so we won’t know what they are until we go to do them. Most of these people I’m meeting on dating apps, and some are people my friends set me up with.” ————— Or: Semi-famous rockstar Eddie comes across an intriguing man on TikTok doing a 50-first dates challenge and he just knows he has to get in on the action.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Social Media.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[pascalsbby]

CARNAL / 6: DEVOUR

Chapter 5 / Masterlist

Summary: 4.5k, f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, brattamer!joel

It didn’t even feel like fucking anymore. Yes, it was filthy and harrowing, but it was beckoning more than lust, desire. Love? Fuck. You can’t do this love again. You couldn’t shell out your body and not find the pieces to put yourself back together because they've been taken and devoured by him.

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, cum eating, car sex, anal play, dominate & aggressive joel, slight stalker!joel, pet names, praise kink, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth + WAY MORE. This is filthy. Gotta feed you after being gone for so long.

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter. Maybe. I kinda went feral. Love you <3 Let me know what you think & what’s gonna happen to these two.

"I need your teeth in me, slow and vicious, to tell me my armor is just skin, bones, only bones. Try to be gentle when you rip me apart.”

- Jamaal May

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

You woke up that morning (the second time), around 10AM on Joel Miller’s couch. He was standing at the counter, back to you. His shoulder blades flexing under his thin shirt. His hair was getting long, kissing the nape of his neck. It was curly at the ends, too. Ruffled, reminiscent of hands being flushed through it. Yours. You wonder now if he’d let it grow or would let it meet its end.

Was this your end?

Turn around Joel.

Please.

You started to open your mouth but he spoke up. “Didn’t want her t’see you in my bed.”

He still hadn’t turned, his voice silently echoing against the tiled back wall of his kitchen. It was soft, still commanding in its baritone. He wasn’t angry anymore… couldn't have been. He had already accepted the invitation and stored it away for later, too. He sat a cup of coffee in front of you and sat across from you at his table. He bent down beside you and whispered, “She hasn’t come out yet. I swear to God f’she heard you fucking screaming last night I—“

Sarah’s bedroom door shook closed. She was walking down the stairs now, fake yawning as if she had only opened her eyes seconds before. She looked tired, as if someone had been keeping her up all night. The chair creaked beneath Joel’s thighs as he settled backwards into it, tearing himself away from your reprimand.

Of course he was mad. Delusional. That’s what this was. Sneaking around your best friends house, fucking her dad? And the thing was, it didn’t even feel like fucking anymore. Yes, it was filthy and harrowing, but it was beckoning more than lust, desire. Love? Fuck. You can’t do this love again. You couldn’t shell out your body and not find the pieces to put yourself back together because they've been taken and devoured by him.

He had made a permanent indentation in his bed with your body, fucking you into it, and then he carried you down the stairs and to the couch like it was nothing, right past her door. Like you hadn’t been dripping on the dark hardwood the entire time he carried you here. Like your muffled screams fell silent to other ears.

Fuck.

He would, too— devour you. And you would sit at his feet and watch as he chewed the love from your ribs. “Thank you, Joel. Thank you. Please, more. Take more of me.”

His snarl when he realized it was you. How angry he was that you were making him do something like this; taking his daughter's best friend and filling her womb with himself, in the most selfish way he could think to tie himself to you. But if that didn’t give, then the raised skin of his initials would do. How dare you open that door and guide him to temptation, as if he wasn’t completely releasing himself into it already? Into you. Onto you.

She hit the bottom step and looked around the living room. “You’re up early.” It was directed at you, but she turned to Joel and spoke in his direction, mirroring him a million times before as her chin tilted slightly down— eyes settling upwards. Big, brown eyes beckoning. And then seconds later her face softens and she gives you both the “I’m not fucking oblivious to this” look.

You laid there and listened to them go about their morning, in his safe space. He smiled real big when he realized she was still happy to see him, of course. Why wouldn’t she be? This has been a man who stood between her and anything that could ever possibly hurt her. He was her shield. And it hurt, still. That he couldn’t really be yours. He was undressing you, instead. Taking off the metal plating and throwing it to the ground. And it was hard to remember that this man was years your senior, your dad’s best friend. He was someone who had been following you for months, paying you to defile your frail body for him. He had hunted you down and sunk his teeth into your skin, bone, marrow. His fingers into your mouth and through the desperation of your thigh.

He scratched his way into your life and you let him, because he feels so good. It was so hard to remember that he was not a good man. Despite his reverence to Sarah’s being. Despite the hole he’s dug through your chest.

Joel Miller was a murderer in his own regard. He hunts you out and down, gets what he wants and then serves you a slow, painful, death. You were sure of it.

Why can’t you be a good man?

Why can’t I have a good man?

You ate breakfast together, the three of you sitting at their two-person table. You were in the middle, one knee touching him and the other, Sarah. He felt of fire, every inch of his denim that touched your naked knees. It rubbed against the rawness of last night, where you were looking up at him, mouth stuffed, praying to him. His cock, as it slid languidly down and up your throat. “Birdie,” he whispered into your hair over and over. Fists full of you. A prayer, a question, a deep rumbling.

Birdie Birdie Birdie.

“Birdie.”

You returned to yourself and realized he was trying to get your attention. It dawned on them that he had just called you the girlish nickname in front of his daughter. It was a moment too late, already it passed his lips and christened the air around him. The melody in his voice changed.

Sarah dropped her fork and it rang through the plate, sending fissures through the porcelain as it echoed the quiet room.

“Who?”

“I’ve called people that before. C’mon. Jus’ like I used to call… fuck what’s her name? Hanna. Just like I used to call Hanna, Ladybug? Remember? Jus’a nickname Sar.”

Excuse me?

“You know exactly why I’m upset. It wasn’t just a nickname for her Dad. You know that.”

“Just a fucking nickname, Jesus.” He was angry that he was being questioned. Outed.

Caught.

It made sense they held secrets for each other. Ones that only swim to the surface during fights. You sat at the two-person table, three people deep. You, sitting outside of your body while the real you is turning your head towards Joel, now. Eyes eating into his own, gnawing on the beauty of them. You try to figure out who the fuck Hanna is. If she’s played this same game before, too. How far did she get? How far was Joel’s cock inside of her? How did he find her?

How old was she?

Sarah was quiet during breakfast. Everyone was. You cleaned the dishes and she rubbed them dry, silently beside you. Joel left as soon as the last bit of ketchup and hashbrowns left his plate. He walked out of the doorway and sat in his chair in front of the TV. He turned the volume out and pretended like he wasn’t leaving his girls to figure it out. He would let you do the hard part.

He always does.

“Sarah, I—“

“Do you know who Ladybug is? He didn’t tell you, did he? He didn’t fucking tell you. I knew it. I knew it,” your name passed out of her chest violently. “He got you too, he got you. I to—He promised me he wouldn’t do it again I-I—“

Suddenly she was too worked up for it to stay between the two of you. Joel’s voice carried from the living room as you hurried after her trying to meet him in the middle. Her fingers already pointing in his direction as he walked towards her with his arms out.

“Joel Miller, you fucking perv—“ calling him by his name.

“Sarah. He hasn’t done anything bad to me. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to but I feel held with him. ‘Member the conversation we had? About how you somehow understood that he and I are similar in a way I haven’t been able to find with anyone else. He— he takes care of me.”

She winced, visibly hit.

“I’ll bet he does.” She spat.

“Hey, s’not like that baby girl.” He was begging.

“Get out of my fucking house, Birdie.” She mocked, completely ignoring anything falling out of your mouth.

So you sat down the dish silently and walked towards the door.

You. You were the first casualty of war. Not even him. Never him. He gazed into you, seeing you. Like he usually did, but never said.

“She was my babysitter and she was his little Ladybug, Birdie,” she spit. You were still in a locked gaze with Joel, body halfway out of their front door.

He turned and looked away.

You walked out of the door.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

It had been two months and 26 days since he carved his initials into your begging flesh. A scrappy ‘JM’ slightly sideways, now slightly raised on your inner thigh. You found yourself tracing it sometimes, wondering if you left any invisible marks on him. Probably not. Your skin is pink and soft, new. It has spent its days tucked away against your heat, hidden from the light. From the man who put them there. Whenever you were sleeping that night, he must have invisibly carved himself into you a thousand more times, because your skin is festering in his absence. His fingertips, name, gripping hands, all falling into the creases of him, left upon you. Long ago bruised and now just scabbed over in refusal to let you return to that night.

That’s what I felt like every single time you texted Sarah, “Can we talk? Please?” or, “I am sorry, please let me explain. Miss you.” She never reads them, infact, they never get to her. She blocked you. And that hurt so much more than just leaving you on read.

Suddenly your skin is ripped open again, by the teeth of your own guilt. Of another lie added to the bracket. But alas, you return home, lock the door, and let him free again in the only way you can— by stripping yourself naked and opening your thighs to the light.

It’s easier to hold a funeral when it's your own. Here lies yet another person who didn't save you— who didn’t stick around to see it through. Whatever it was.

You've been discarded before, it wasn’t a new phenomenon. Rather it was one your chest is familiar with— knows the aching well. Although oftentimes you weren’t even left, just sat to the side, unnoticed and quiet. No one had really done you the favor of actually leaving, never really departing; all still loosely lingering around, almost like they were orbiting you. A distant star in the night sky. Then, like a meteorite, Joel. He became your refuge, a far-off celestial body that crashed into yours. Free from the chaos, cradling you in his arms.

He wasn't just a mosaic of broken mass and matter forcibly reassembled; thrown and kneeled like dough. He embodied the resilience of stardust, a reminder that matter never truly vanishes but transforms into something or someone new. Filtered through fingers above to loosen their ties to who they were before, or what. Joel was something before, to you. Maybe on another plane, he was bending you over his knees right now. His hand kissing your skin— Good morning, Birdie. His touch a gentle caress against your skin, with a warmth that felt like the first rays of dawn. Warmth that would completely devour the incessant nightmares. And the truth of him.

Wake up.

Another nightmare.

They never really ended, the fucked up silver screen tucked tightly against your hippocampus, played on and on. They seethed and sang their screamed pain to the night. Bursting out in missing, of emptiness and holiness (not of the Godly kind).

There was a hole, burrowing itself into your breastplate, spreading and grasping for whatever it can grab hold of, inching ever closer to your heart. You screamed his name like it came directly from him, like he planted it there, kissed it on its forehead goodnight, a silent promise, and then walked out the door and never returned. It was kind of like that— his leaving, the absence of him. So your brain held close whatever it still could and replayed it to you every night. It felt like dying. Like wanting to rip-the-wall-open-and-set-yourself-in-there-too, dying. Plaster over yourself and have some professional match the paint color perfectly, so that it's as if you were never gone from him or his room, dying. His ruined sheets on behalf of your body. Rotting.

Joel told you that he wouldn’t clip your wings, not just yet. What had set off the ‘yet’? He was haunting you, now, the whispers of his voice fading more each day. You thought about that morning so much that you haven’t been present in your own, in weeks.

You haven’t painted in weeks, either. They were sitting against your wall in your childhood room, not even able to face the outside world. Just the canvas beside it. A mirror.

You had been writing more though, filling pages of a journal you didn’t even know you had. The cover was foiled, gold and glistening. Water Serpents l, Gustav Klimt, 1907. You’d always preferred Water Serpents II. Where the fuck did this come from?

Sarah probably left it here in the beginning of summer. She came over daily, helped you unpack. Laughed with you. Held you in that way. Took pictures of you amongst your things.

“You’re like… a big girl now.” She said.

You’d always had a poster of Der Kuss hanging above your bed. It moved with you, from your room to a dorm room, apartment, and back. On her knees for him, engulfed in him. Her feet hanging over the edge, facing some other reality. He held her head in his large hands and kissed her Goodbye. Goodnight. Drift softly into the night.

I imagine he stayed on his knees and watched the flowers shrivel. First, the ones upon her dress and hair, then he picked every single flower in the field they graced and watched them shrink and gasp for life, too. But he stayed.

You remember Dr. Andrews, walking to center stage of the auditorium on a foggy Wednesday morning, four semesters ago. It was 45 minutes into a 3 hour chapter titled: Byzantine Frescoes: Life In Gold. “Each work aids final comprehension of the allegory, which represents the mystical union of spiritual and erotic love and the merging of the individual with the eternal cosmos.” That of Der Kuss. Eternal cosmos.

You felt as if you were meant to be with him. Regardless of the rage you felt towards him. How he had just magically been there at every intersection of your life, thus far. How your parents loved him. Sarah. Meeting her again, or the first time even. All synchronicities pointing to the both of you. Joel and Birdie, sittin’ in a tree.

Whenever you felt control slipping, you would write down the words of someone else. Sometimes it was too hard to find your own in the strung-together way you wanted them. But people have been talking, crying, wailing into the night, since forever ago. You found something that stuck a key into your heart and opened it. This fell out:

“I hated him because I could not remain detached, could not remain standing at the top of the stairs watching him depart. I felt myself going down with him, within him, because his pain and flight were so familiar to me. I descended with him, and lost myself, passed into him, became one with him like his shadow.”

- Anaïs Nin, Winter of Artifice

Your pen gave out, stopping its bleeding before you even reached the end of shadow.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

You had been at home a lot more the past couple of weeks, in a perpetual state of ‘no-call-backs’ from jobs and The Miller’s. You hid from arguing like you’d never left. Like you weren’t nearly 25 years old. You listened to wildfire over and over.

“Been home longer than expected. Looking for a job or just gonna stay here forever?”

“Yeah, Dad. No one is calling back. I’m trying.”

“Not hard enough.” He always says it under his breath, not even looking you in your fucking eyes.

Yeah. Not hard enough.

“How ‘bout you ask Joel if you can work for them as some assistant or something?”

You try not to outwardly scoff. “I’m not talking to Sarah right now. Please don’t invite the Miller’s to anything, just for a while.” You knew exactly what was coming up. But you turned to him and looked in his eyes— something you shied away from him most days, thinking that sudden reveal would get your point across. He spoke before you could, again.

“What’d you do this time?” He looked away.

*₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

It didn’t surprise you one bit when Joel fucking Miller, in the biting flesh, walks past you in your own backyard, three months and 28 days later. Eyes tearing into where another man’s hand rested upon the small of your back, rubbing soft circles into your skin. John caught his eye, his fingers releasing from your skin upon Joel’s wandering scowl.

Looks like he wasn’t expecting him either.

John was standing at your side. You decided you’d meet him first, as to not have a reply of the last time you met one of your customers. He actually lived a few houses down, your other too-old-for-you neighbor. How funny. He walked up to you one day when you were getting the mail.

“N’ what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here barefoot? Gonna hurt those soles.”

You decided that you haven’t felt full in a while. You wanted to feel it again, the tickling stretch of someone sliding into you. Even if the entire time you try not to sing the song of another man.

Eh. He fits the bill.

So now his feet (boots) were slowly sinking into the September grass in your parents backyard. He was five beers deep. You, about three or so. Enough. It was the best you could do under the circumstances.

In reality, he came because he thought he might be able to get you alone in the room he’d seen so many times through the computer screen. Smell your sheets, your room, your pussy.

In reality, you just invited him in hopes that Joel would be here. That he would see you around another man and realize the mistake he’s made by not choosing you, too.

You were mid-sentence, explaining what a BFA is to some other neighbor and you felt as if you could hear him growling from across the yard. You would sway yourself just the way you know he liked- especially when your family was involved. Oh, it angered him. That you should be so bold in front of your own father. In front of this man. But he was ignoring you, so why wouldn’t you try and regain his attention?

“Did I leave my wallet in your truck?” John put on his thinking face. “Don’t think so, but here, go look.” He handed you the keys. Coulda came with you at least. You lead yourself back inside and out of the front door. His car is about 4 back. You see Joel’s navy truck a few more back and you catch yourself staring for too long.

As you attempt at unlocking John’s truck, your knees are suddenly pressed onto the footstep, arms spread against the leather seat. And then Joel’s smell is all around. His nose is poking your ear and his gray stubble is poking into your face.

“How fucking dare you? I give you space and this is how you spend it? Stuffing another man’s dirty cock into my cunt?” His back is lowered, attempting to match your height, pointing and spitting about. “If you wanted to be fully stuffed you should have just asked, Birdie. But I get whatever hole I want and he can have whatever’s open. I didn’t know you wanted me to share you, baby.”

You felt full of his voice, even at its melting whisper. You missed bulging full of him.

“I woulda at least ask you not to choose one of my coworkers. Actin’ like a fucking slut.” He whispered the last part, but not quietly enough. “Gonna take care of him later, been wanting to since I saw that you followed hi—“

He was so angry he was giving away his secrets, the way he had still been keeping up with you. You were pulsing.

But… he was looking at you, was paying attention to you. And you hadn’t looked into his soul in so long. You fought against his palm, as it filled the expanse of the back of your head, hair and all. Your cheeks pushed against the seat of John’s truck.

You hear Joel sigh in impatience, then he drops his belt.

He pulls his hands away so he can pull up your dress and he moans as his thumb pushes your thong away from your holes, tickling them. He hooks his thumb in front of you, against the hood of your clit and holds it in place. A constant rush of pressure originating from where his wet finger is pushing. You rut your hips against it and he moans as you breathlessly look up and around at him, eyes widening and eyebrows raising at the feeling of his presence on your body.

“Look into my eyes.”

How could you? How could you possibly focus on the lifting of his lips and his tongue meeting his teeth when his arms were gracing himself, wrestling heavily against his chest, stomach, fully. His cock, long and full. Slightly less straight. A little off. Just like him. Just like you liked it.

He turns you over on your back, lifting you up so that your naked ass meets leather, fully in another man’s truck. He sets you further inside and then looks at you. His cock jumps to meet your gaze and he lets you take it in.

“Been thinking about this.” You try to reach out and touch the veiny girth of it. The heaviness.

“Mm, nuh uh. Not being a very good girl, are you? Told y’ to shut up didn’t I?”

No. And you know he would never. Likes hearing you whimper for him too much.

You scoff and he dips into you in fever, his nose is kissing your clit, unable to get out of the way as his tongue pokes into your slobbering hole. You are every one of his senses. His fingers in your cunt, stretching the soft tissue between your legs. The taste of your warmth on his tongue, pooling. The wetness that got into his nose.

If anyone were to be looking, from most angles it looks like he’s lost something in his floorboard. Until someone moves too closely and sees Joel Miller with his face buried in someone’s daughter's pussy.

He hears something and removes his dripping mustache from your cunt. He then spits on it and lets it talk to him as his veined and heavy cock slips through the cream he’s making of his precum, collecting it with his pretty pink, angry, tip before he slides it back down your slit, covering every inch with himself.

It felt good to sing for him again.

“Oh Birdie, just like that, sounds so good whipping up your pussy’s excitement with my cock, don’t you? Filthy lil’ thing. Gonna make it wetter n’ cover it in my cum, too, okay?”

He reaches down and fingers at your pussy, pushing himself deeper into you and thumbs where you are gripping his cock. He spits down on it. “She missed me.”

“Need you t’ fill me up.”

“Already begging? Don’t wanna get caught in his truck, do you?” He was mocking you now. “Baby girl, that’s just not good enough.”

“Need-need daddy to fill me to the brim with his fucking cum. Let me have it, sir, please. Plea-“

“Show me who you belong to.”

You widen your legs further and let the orange streetlights filling the car shine on his initials.

“There you go baby.” He growls as he fucks his thick length inside of you, letting go as deep as he can as your pussy clenches around his sputtering cock.

He stops looking at your hole clenching onto him as hard as possible and is instead watching his initials in the jiggling fat of your inner thigh. He grabs it, rubs his fingers over the skin.

His thighs are even thicker from this angle. He moans towards the sky but forces himself to look back down, just as his cum falls from his slit and falls down to your open mouth. He lets go of his cock and lets it throb independently, shooting more of himself into his plump stomach. He’s dripping down himself, coating his own skin.

“Uh uh uh.” His voice catching in his throat every single time the skin between his heavy balls and asshole contract and expand, throbbing.

He admires as the cum chokes back out of your tight pussy as he pushes himself in and out, then removes himself. He watches it slide down and kiss your puckering asshole and decides to finger it back into your cunt, tsk-ing at you.

“Gonna let it drip down to your pretty asshole and not even fuck it back in baby? After all that work? Let me do it for you. Relax n’ let me fuck you here, too.” He slides his thick finger into your ass and lets out a low groan as it swallows him.

He pops himself back out, gently cooing praises at you.

“Whose Hanna?”

“That’s none of your fucking business, Birdie.”

“Is that so? Shouldn’t I have a right to know? Am I just another victim of you and your inability to show the fuck up?”

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Daddy showing up to your little party and making a mess in your little hole?”

“Joel.”

“I never fucked her.”

You stared at him.

“Get down there and clean up your fucking mess.” You deserved this. You weren’t being good for him, asking questions.

You pulled your dress down as he tucked himself away. He held your hair back and grabbed your jaw, aligning it with his cum on the black leather seats.

“Now lick.”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.•

I know I’m missing some of you on the taglist, I’m sorry!! I need to come up with a better way of doing it.

Taglist: @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rubyfruitjungle @leeeesahhh @blackvelveteen1339 @huffle-punk @xxmr-potato-headxx @ssssc0m @paleidiot @sarap-77 @silkiers @gracevn @scarletsloveletter @livingdeadmaria @morallyinept @kittenprincess710 @jubilee82 @cool-iguana @vickywallace @capitulo3-celos @taeslarityy @moonlightdreamingworld @worhols @milla-frenchy @sheepdogchick3 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @justagalwhowrites @bratty-lxndry444

[soyscoutsmasher]

Takes one to know one

A 5th-year wizard is transferred to Hogwarts after something bad occurred at his previous school. Unfortunately for him, he is picked for Slytherin so his venture to a new school is almost destined to be filled with hate. Luckily thanks to a certain muggle born there may be some good parts too.

There had been houses at Y/N’s previous school, just like Hogwarts. The method for being placed into a house, however, was much different there. Back at his old school, it was simply a random placement, though it could be changed with enough pleading to the upper crust of staff.

All of this meant when Y/N discovered he would be put into a house chosen by a magical talking hat he was moderately confused, but even more intrigued. Even after spending some time within the school for the Triwizard Tournament, he had never heard of the hat. How the hat worked was a mystery to him, ‘Maybe it just picks one at random,’ was his initial thought, however, that theory was quickly dismissed upon watching how it seemed to debate with itself over a person's characteristics. ‘Maybe the professors feed it information from the student's past.

This theory was also quickly dismissed. While he had not heard of this hat he had heard of many students being surprised by their letter of invitation to the school, which meant they probably didn’t have to send in an application which would leave very little for the hat to be told.

“L/N Y/N.” His thought process was interrupted by the professor reading out names, McGonagall was her name if his memory served him right. Realizing she was calling his name because it was his turn to be sorted he quickly moved forward to sit on the stool planted in front of the professor, with the hat falling upon his head quickly after.

“Hmm, what’s this?” The hat spoke though Y/N could not tell if it was simply in his head or actually talking at this point. “A 5th year, you’re not part of my usual group.” Its words were dragged out, almost slurred as if it had drunk one too many butterbeers. “Well, there is certainly a mind filled with that knowledge.” The compliment to his intellect brought a small smirk to his face, though it fell shortly after hearing its next comments, “Not a brave bone in the body, and certainly less kind than smart.” While the hat was likely correct about both of those things it certainly wasn’t something that he wanted to be said straight to his face. “Hmm, but there’s more than intellect, there’s drive. Yes, I see, heaps of it.”

“That’s the 5th year who transferred isn’t it?” Ron whispered to his friends.

“Well, I don’t exactly see any other 5th years standing up there waiting to be sorted” Came Hermione’s response.

Since the train to Hogwart’s, there had been rumours of a 5th year transferring from another school to theirs. It was an easy rumour to dismiss initially, why would someone transfer so late into their learning? The rumour became harder to deny once they saw the student towering over the 1st years.

“SLYTHERIN!” Boomed the hat's final decision.

“That's gotta sting,” Ron once again whispered to his friends, who mostly gave him a look in response. He clarified, “Transferring schools just to end up being put in Slytherin, I know I wouldn’t want to be in that situation.

In actuality, Y/N felt none of the meaning that comes with being put into Slytherin, other than the fact he will now be wearing green robes. The infamy of the house was lost to the 5th year, back at his old school the houses meant nothing in reality due to their randomness, there were no stereotypes about them because there was nothing different between them.

Little did he know how much of a difference the house he had been forced into would make.

Luckily it did not take long at all for the upsides and downsides of which house he was placed in to show themselves. He quickly discovered that Slytherin was the most hated house, by all the others at least. It seemed as if all other Slytherins loved the house so much it didn’t even matter that everyone else hated them.

The benefits of this were that he could simply sit at a populated table in the library and it would immediately clear out. The detriments came during classes which required him to pair up with another student. During said classes, it usually ended the same if he was able to pick a partner and if he was not, in both cases no one was happy to be paired with him.

Overall he still had yet to make a decision on if he was happy to be in the house or not. What he had decided by this point however was that he did not like Draco Malfoy. Before joining Hogwarts He knew nothing about the Malfoy family, after one week it felt as if he knew more about Malfoys than his own family. Draco spoke of his family plenty of times, almost always going into how he was a pure-blood, an idea that Y/N had only half grasped by now.

The other students he had met so far seemed much more tolerable, but by his standards that wasn’t too much better. There were those in his own house like Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, all of which were barely more tolerable than Draco simply because they let him do much more talking. It seemed in the end that Slytherin simply contained the most irritating people. There were certainly people in other houses that annoyed him but none to the degree of his own housemates.

It didn’t take much time for him to learn about the Golden trio, as they were mockingly called by Draco. Harry Potter, the boy who somehow made Voldemort disappear before he could even walk. Ronald Weasley, a redhead from a very large family, mostly seemed to have the personality trait of being Harry’s friend, at least from how everyone described him. Then there was Hermione Granger, a mudblood as Draco called her. She was the one who interested Y/N the most out of the three contrary to popular opinion of Harry being the poster boy. Something about her simply seemed different to the others, maybe it was her tenacity to become a witch even after all the prejudice due to her heritage.

One character Y/N had yet to properly meet before today was the easily mockable Neville Longbottom. The mockery was easy due to both his name and apparently his previous reputation for being awful at all magic, though he had yet to see that. Currently, all Y/N could see about Neville was that he had no idea how to look for a book in a library. He watched the Gryffindor search over the potions shelf three times, not once trying to look somewhere else or even simply ask the librarian where the book was.

Eventually, even Y/N, who could usually manage to ignore others' plights, was starting to feel some amount of pity for him. Which eventually led to him walking up to him as he started to search the shelf for the fourth time.

“Are you actually looking for a book or are you trying to look busy? Because either way, you are doing a poor job.” He spooked the boy with his words apparently because Neville quickly spun around with a face of shock at the sudden voice. Neville seemed to be conflicted after the initial surprise, he wanted to brush you off immediately because he was expecting your next comment to become much more mocking of him no matter his response.

“I’m looking for a potions book.” He replied after some thought, though not enough thought he realized as he added, “Dr Mardovia’s healing tonics and treatments, specifically.”

“Did you think to ask the librarian if that book was even on these shelves?” Y/N questioned rhetorically as he quickly continued, “If you did you would realize that the only copy this school has, for some reason, has been taken out already.” Neville’s face fell at this news, which caused Y/N to feel some pity for the boy, “Luckily for you, it was taken out by me, and I happen to almost be finished reading it. You can borrow it after I finish reading to copy whatever it is you seem to be desperate to know, I will need it back to make more notes after.” Neville's face lit up at this fact.

“Really? Thanks.” He said as he realized you weren’t pulling his leg, contrary to what he was expecting of a Slytherin. He then asked another question, he didn’t expect to ask someone from Y/N’s house, “If we’re both making notes we could work on them together?” His tone was very apprehensive, however, as he realized who he was asking right as he started talking. Y/N looked quite surprised by the offer, and Neville watched as he seemed to ponder it for a second before shaking his head quite strongly.

“No, I work much better alone.” He spoke curtly, before continuing, “Thank you for the offer but, no. I will bring the book to your painting tomorrow.” After that, he quickly walked away and out of the library altogether. Neville was mostly confused by the interaction's sudden end, so much so that it took him all the walk back to Gryffindor’s common room to realize

“How does he know about the painting?!”

The Fat lady just looked at him confused.

Y/N usually woke up early most days but today he woke up earlier than usual. After his run-in with Neville the previous day he realized that he had not specified any time at which he was going to show up at. While he could have simply just waited somewhere else such as the great hall, he did not like the idea that he could potentially miss him.

In the end, his best idea was to wait outside of the doorway to the Gryffindor common room until Neville or someone who would pass the book along to him exited. It was not the best plan, not only because the time window that someone could leave was over an hour, but because he would have to get there before the curfew was truly over. Luckily he was very confident in his own ability to get around the castle without being found, and also the fact he could easily claim he forgot about the curfew.

After a few minutes of walking, he found the specific painting he was looking for, the fat lady as she was so affectionately called. By that point curfew had ended so she luckily had no reason to be concerned with his presence, he could simply just be admiring the view for all anyone knew. That didn’t stop the fat lady from questioning him, however.

“Any reason you are just standing and staring at me?” She sounded calm, but she was ever so slightly concerned. The last time something like this happened she was slashed several times with a knife, the security trolls gave her some reassurance but since Y/N was a student and already happened to be right in front of her they likely wouldn't end up doing much.

“Heard some students talk about a ‘Fat Lady’ painting in this tower, thought I’d come to take a look.” He lied. Only partially, he had heard of this painting from other students, considering the fact their common room entrances were meant to be at least somewhat secretive it was a bit of a concern that so many students had let it slip so far. The fat lady eyed him suspiciously at this comment, so he made an extra one to try and get a bit of good favour, “I guess I should keep looking ‘cause I don’t see one around here.”

“Oh, my aren’t you a charmer.” The Fat lady replied, her suspicions mostly wiped away with the compliment. Her sudden change in mood was just as quickly changed again when she began to swing backwards, having been opened from the other side. From within the corridor stepped Neville to Y/N’s relief.

“Didn’t expect you to be this early.” He spoke shortly after getting fully out of the painting, the fat lady swinging closed after him, a slight frown on her face from the realization that the Slytherin boy’s compliment was likely hollow.

“Wasn’t expecting it from you either, I realized after our meeting yesterday that we did not specify any time so I decided to come here as soon as it would be possible to avoid missing you,” Y/N replied in one quick breath, the confidence he once had to compliment a painting fizzling out as he started talking to another person. “I’ve got the book here.” He added after, holding out the potion book for Neville to take, which he quickly did.

“You have no idea how thankful I am for this.” He spoke excitedly, quickly opening the book to browse through. Y/N had turned to step away before Neville spoke up again, “Um, I only need it for one potion, I can do it real quick if you want to just wait here and I can give it back straight away.” He paused, “So you can finish your notes and all that.” He finished with a nervous smile. Y/N studied his face for a moment before silently nodding, moving away down the stairs so that Neville could get back into the common room without spilling the password.

He would have declined and just asked for the book later but he did quite need those notes. There was also the issue of how to get the book back if he did leave now, he didn’t remember if he shared any classes with Neville. Internal conflict over, he decided to just wait as Neville said he’d only be a short while, he could stand for a few minutes at least.

Unfortunately for him, standing outside of Gryffindor’s common room meant his path just so happened to cross with the golden trio today.

“What are you standing around here for Slytherin?” Ronald asked, the venom in his voice when he said Slytherin was palpable. While Y/N was aware of the general distaste towards his house by most students the way that the redhead spoke made it sound personal.

“Waiting for someone so I can get my book back,” Y/N replied simply, not particularly in the mood to be arguing with people.

“You’re the one that gave Neville that book?” Harry then asked, once Y/N nodded he added another question, “What’re you playing at?” His tone wasn’t as venomous as Ron but it still clearly had some anger and something personal behind it. Hermione seemed to also be judging him from the way she squinted, however, she kept her distaste inside for now.

Y/N stopped leaning against the wall before responding, “I’m not ‘playing’ at anything,” he used air quotes when speaking. His own distaste could be heard in his voice, though it was much less pointed towards the three in front of him and much more for the particular conversation they were having. “He needed the book and I had it, I’m waiting here to get it back.”

“Yeah right!” Spat Ron, “You probably put a hex on it to make him piss himself or something. Now you’re just waiting to see it all go down.” His anger was flowing now, at this point Harry seemed to get the idea that Ron may have been going too far, but that didn’t stop him from continuing, “How’d you figure out where our common room is anyway, you threaten him into showing you?”

After that comment Y/N had enough and pushed Ron back, making him trip over himself onto his back. “I don’t know what your fuckin’ problem with Slytherin is, but keep me out of it.” He spoke with clear anger in his voice, and all three of the Gryffindors were surprised by the outburst. The situation was usually flipped, with them getting the earful from a Slytherin before one of them snapped. “The reason I know about your common room entrance is because of loose-lipped dumbasses like yourself.”

The three just stared after his outburst, not knowing what to do at this point. Ron almost looked ashamed as Harry and Hermione looked down at him along with Y/N. He tried to speak, “Sorry I d-”

“Save it.” Y/N cut him off still angry, he turned to the others, who once again returned their attention to him before he continued, “Tell Neville I’ll come to get my book back later.” He stormed off quickly after finishing.

“Nice job Ron,” Hermione said a moment after Y/N was gone, glaring down at him on the floor as Harry helped him up.

“I didn’t hear you stepping in to stop me,” He growled back at her.

“She also didn’t accuse someone of hexing a book in their first conversation.” Harry pointed out, only to also be scolded by Hermione.

“Don’t you get high and mighty after you accused him in the first place, honestly you two sometimes” She grumbled as she also turned and walked away, she knew what it was like to be discriminated against for something you didn’t control. While she still held some inner disdain herself from all the abuse she has taken from Slytherin over the years, she’d never accuse one of something like that without even meeting them first.

Ron and Harry simply stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment, thinking about the whole situation, before there were some footsteps behind them.

“You guys didn’t happen to see a Slytherin out here did you?” Neville asked slightly nervous. The other two boys simply looked at each other awkwardly.

——————————————————————————————————

Chapter Text

It took a while for Y/N to calm down after his run-in with the golden trio, after thinking about it more he could see why there was disdain towards his house. Draco Malfoy made it clear that he enjoyed the misery of seemingly everyone else, and considering the number of negative things he has to say about the three Gryffindors it was clear that they were a common target.

That didn’t mean he liked what they had said, he was still annoyed about it. The fact that they seemed to hate him just for the colour of his robes and scarf. Maybe they would hate him anyway even if they got to know him, but at least then there would be a chance and he could have some input, but no, they just had to assume he’d be like Malfoy.

“Heard what you did to weasel boy,” Speak of the devil. Malfoy stared down at Y/N, who lay on one of the seats in the Slytherin common room, with a smug look on his face. Y/N simply looked back with a blank expression. “Though maybe next time you should teach the rest of them a lesson too.”

“What lesson would that be? That Slytherins are all exactly what they assume us to be?” Y/N questioned with a sneer, he wasn’t in the mood for Malfoy’s praising insults.

“No. That Slytherins aren’t to be trifled with.” He responded, a sour look taking over his face.

“It’s that attitude that has the rest of the school itching to find any reason to hate us.” Came Y/N’s reply as he stood from the seat he was on. “What reason do you have to hate those three anyway? They insult your precious pure blood or something?” He spat, to which Malfoy’s face seemed to quickly fill with annoyance.

“Ha! What is there not to hate about them?” He quickly retorted, continuing with a rant, “You’ve got Potter, the precious little saviour of the wizarding world with his stupid little scar. Then there’s Weasley, a disgrace to the words pure blood with his poor little muggle integrating family.” He paused, with his face seemingly changing from annoyance to pure disgust as he described the final person, “And finally there’s Granger, the mudblood who seems to think she deserves her place here with the real wizards and witches because she can cast a few spells.”

Y/N’s fists balled up as Malfoy described the trio. He could see why someone would maybe have some distaste for Harry, that always came with someone who was famous for something they hadn’t even had a say in. Ron and Hermione, however, had stupid reasons to hate them, the same type of reasons that they had to hate Y/N. Prejudice.

“I was wondering why everyone seemed to hate Slytherin.” He turned to walk away as Malfoy seemed offended that someone would dare walk away from him, however, Y/N just added, “Thanks for showing me.” Before he started walking away, leaving Malfoy teeming with rage at his comments.

After his little outburst at Malfoy, Y/N was almost feeling better until he got into runes class, late. Due to his less-than-punctual arrival, he was left with only one available seat, one next to Hermione Granger. His opinion of her was still sour from yesterday, even after learning she had a pretty good reason to dislike Slytherin, it didn’t excuse her behaviour towards him.

As he sat down neither of them spoke. He just brought out his book and began taking notes on what professor Babbling was writing on the blackboard. Unfortunately for both of them, this class happened to be one which would require them to partner up. As professor Babbling explained that the school had run into some issues with creating enough items with the runes engraved for them to have one each, so they would be working In pairs, and their scores would be shared.

While at first both of them seemed to be able to act diplomatically, it quickly fell apart after Y/N had corrected one of Hermione’s translations. This seemed to start a battle of passive-aggressive remarks about each other’s work. This argument was only stopped when Babbling reminded them that their marks would be shared, which managed to get them to stop and go back to working in silence.

As the assignment came to a finish all the students were asked to hand in all of the words on the item they could translate so it could be compared to the complete translation sheet Babbling had. Most students seemed to pass, some doing better than others but generally, most seemed to have almost the same score. The only pair which was different was Y/N and Hermione.

They were both asked to wait outside after class, which led to the assumption that they had failed. The looks that each of them got from their classmates as they left the classroom told a whole story of how this would immediately be passed around as a rumour. The two top students in a class had failed due to their inability to work together.

“I told you we were looking too much into that specific carving,” Hermione said after some moments of standing in silence. “They were clearly looking for us to decipher the words, not the letters.” She spoke almost condescendingly, with her arms crossed as she looked away from Y/N.

“OH I’m sorry,” Y/N quickly retorted sarcastically. “I would have expected little miss perfect to understand doing more than expected and thinking it would go well.” He continued bitterly.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” She asked angrily.

“I heard about your stunt in 3rd year, taking every single elective class.” He responded bluntly.

“Where did you hear that from?” The anger seemed to leave her voice, almost sounding scared now. If he knew about the extra classes did that mean he knew about the time turner, that would be really bad.

Y/N just huffed, amused, before turning to look away. “Malfoy’s mentioned it in almost all of his rants about how you. I was slightly impressed someone could manage that much” The last part came out quieter. This both calmed down Hermione, and also slightly flattered her ego. It also set her off again though. At least no one knew about the time turner, but Malfoy was still mouthing her off to people. She went to speak but was interrupted as the classroom door opened, professor Babbling calling them both back in.

They both stood at the front of the classroom as Babbling sat at her desk, looking at the sheets of parchment in front of herself. “Now then, which one of you decided to try and decipher these as letters instead of words? When we have barely gone through the first half of this alphabet?” Her tone was difficult to figure out, she sounded annoyed but almost impressed. Both Y/N and Hermione didn’t speak initially, nervous about what the consequence of doing so would be.

“It was me pr-”

“We both decid-”

Both of them spoke at once, interrupting each other. They also then both turned to face each other, a look of surprise on their faces. Y/N had intended on taking the blame for the mistake himself. Hermione had intended on sharing the mistake between the both of them equally. Professor Babbling simply looked at both of them with the same expression, expectant.

“I thought I saw one of the words was carved differently so I decided to try translating it by letters instead of words. It was my fault professor.” Y/N quickly spoke up, before Hermione could.

“Is that true Miss Granger?” Babbling asked after nodding at Y/N.

Hermione hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Yes professor,” she paused for another second, “but it wasn’t all him professor. I also thought it was strange so I agreed to try and decipher the letters instead of words. It was both of our faults not just Y/N’s.” This might have been the first time he had heard her say his name out loud. He stared at her confused, he was trying to take the blame but she seemed determined to share it for some reason.

“Is that so?” The professor’s expression had switched from questioning to almost smug now, as she turned back to Y/N. “Trying to take all the fame yourself are you?” These words confused both Y/N and Hermione. “10 points to Slytherin and Gryffindor.” She said proudly after, both students looking even more perplexed than before, taking a glance at each other before looking back to the professor for an explanation. “The runes on your item were inscribed poorly, which meant one of the words was incorrect. Your decision to look into the letters instead of the words meant you got a different answer to everyone else but an answer correct for your specific item and using the knowledge you have not even been taught yet. Very impressive.”

Y/N and Hermione were both still dumbfounded by the information as they continued to look at the professor. She simply laughed and told them to enjoy the dinner feast, ushering them out of the classroom

It took a moment for both of them to realize they had to start moving, still in shock from the fact they hadn’t failed their assignment but had passed it so well that they got house points for it. Neither said anything for a moment.

Y/N didn’t know what to think, they had just had an argument where he was starting to expect Hermione was right and he messed it up for them, but now that had been spun around. Was he meant to start mocking her because he was right all along? Surely he couldn’t do that after she was trying to share the blame while they both thought they were in trouble. Unless she somehow knew they were actually getting praise not punishment, but surely then she would have taken all the credit?

Hermione’s inner conflict shared a similar sentiment to Y/N, if not in reverse. She was debating thanking Slytherin for his contribution as it had paid off but now she was wondering if that was his plan all along, to make her feel stupid and take all the credit. The way that he spoke to the professor however made it seem much more like he was trying to take the blame like she was.

“Thanks fo-”

“Thank yo-”

Once again they both tried to speak at the same time, interrupting each other. This time however it was Hermione who spoke again first. “Thank you for convincing me to use letter translations instead of trying to use words,” Her tone was sincere with a tinge of reluctance, she was thanking a Slytherin for their help after all.

“Well thank you for trying to share the blame when it looked like we screwed it up,” he replied, just assuming that was in fact what she was doing. The slight look of surprise on her face nearly confirmed it for him. After the thanks, neither of them spoke again for a moment, before Y/N added, “We should get going if we want to make it to dinner.” With that he began to walk towards the great hall, Hermione following shortly after.

They walked side by side for a short while in silence, the halls were mostly empty by now, which meant they were probably already missing the feast, but neither of them sped up yet. The silence by this point was starting to feel awkward to Y/N so he attempted to start some form of conversation.

“You think anyone else’s runes were also broken?”

“Hm, I doubt it. Everyone else seemed to pass mostly fine, if they had an entire word missing they would have probably lost a lot more points.” She replied after some pondering.

“Maybe they also used letters instead of words to translate” Y/N fired back with a small grin. “I’m sure there’s at least one other person who has been looking ahead in the runes books.”

“Well, I’m sure that no one else was asked to stay behind with us.” She reminded him smugly.

“Touché” He responded with an amused huff as they continued towards the great hall. Both of them seeming to forget their vendettas against each other for the time being.

They were both still talking even as they walked into the great hall. Hermione had eventually taken the lead which meant Y/N was taken straight to the Gryffindor table, somewhere he suddenly realized was probably not the best place to be. The sudden realization came when he looked around and saw plenty of Gryffindor, and a few Slytherin staring at him as he stood.

Hermione also seemed to suddenly realize what they had done as her friends looked at her with surprise and a smidgen of annoyance at her bringing a Slytherin to their table. Before either of them could come up with a reason why Y/N was at their table Neville, who was luckily sitting close by, spoke up.

“Oh Y/N! I was hopin’ I’d run into you at some point, here,” He turned to his right and quickly offered the book he had borrowed earlier back to him. Y/N took a moment to realize what was happening before quickly taking the book and checking it to make sure it was the right one. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Neville, it was more that he didn’t trust the two other boys who were staring into the side of his head.

“Thanks, Neville.” He said somewhat quietly, realizing that Ron and Harry were looking at him. Luckily their stare-down was interrupted by Hermione who gasped.

“You’ve got that book?!” She exclaimed, quickly realizing she probably said it much louder than intended and had caught even more people’s attention as she and Y/N realized they were both still standing. Hermione quickly sat down at the table to avoid the stares, but Y/N stayed standing. He knew that sitting at other houses’ tables was allowed, but he also knew it would probably be a bad idea. Unfortunately, that didn’t usually stop him.

“Why does it seem like everyone needs this exact book?” He asked as he sat next to Hermione and Neville. The former’s surprise was much more shown than the latter, who looked surprised but didn’t seem too bothered by it. The tension was quickly brought back to the conversation as Ron spoke up.

“Some of us actually have to try in potions. Not all of us get special treatment.” He grumbled the last part. While Y/N found that annoyingly rude he couldn’t exactly counter that argument, Snape certainly did have a preference for his own house’s students and he did not make any attempt to hide it.

Y/N just ignored Ron and turned to Hermione, who seemed to be somewhat scowling at the said redhead. “Did you want to borrow it too?” he asked, which once again seemed to surprise the witch. She stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was playing some sort of game, similar to how Neville was when he offered. “I mean, I can’t give it to you now, I need to finish the notes I was planning on making yesterday.” He added after she stayed silent for a moment. “But once I’ve finished I can let you know?” He wasn’t sure what was possessing him to offer this but seeing her face light up made him feel something in his chest.

“That’d be great,” She whisper shouted, learning her lesson about being too loud quite quickly. The small moment of joy was quickly snuffed out as a certain white-haired boy seemed to appear at their table.

“I didn’t expect much from you after your outburst today but I must say this is low even for you L/N,” His words were directed at Y/N but the way he looked at everyone surrounding him made it feel like much more of an insult to them.

“What’s that meant to mean Draco?” He responded, getting to his feet once again and glaring at said Slytherin.

“It means I’m surprised you’re sitting with the mudblood after all the things you said about her this morning.” His words seemed to shock everyone at the table, including Y/N. Sure he’d grumbled about the Gryffindors while walking into the Slytherin common room he’d said nothing more than a few indirect insults. And Malfoy had been nowhere near enough to actually hear any of that.

Everyone was now looking at Y/N, waiting for some kind of response, but he just continued to stare at Malfoy, face no longer confused but annoyed. Ron and Harry looked the angriest, they knew Hermione bringing a Slytherin to their table was a bad idea. Neville looked mostly shocked, he’d thought Y/N had been quite nice if a bit cold while talking to him. Hermione was mostly confused, she felt angry but also sad. She had truly thought you were a different Slytherin but it seemed as if that was just an act.

Upon seeing the fact that no one was saying anything Malfoy took it upon himself to continue, “Oh my, it looks like you’ve all been made fools.” He laughed, his lackeys Crabbe and Goyle laughing along with him. “You should have heard him in the common room. ‘I can’t believe I was insulted by a filthy mudblood’ He was ruthless.” Malfoy continued, still laughing.

The three Gryffindor boys at the table all now looked at Y/N with pure anger. If it had been an insult about something else they’d likely care less, but they all knew how much Hermione’s heritage became a point of sensitivity over the years. The only one who did not seem to be angry was Hermione herself, and that was only because she was now confused. She hadn’t insulted him, or said anything for that matter, during their first meeting.

What made all of them become just as confused as Hermione was when Y/N laughed himself. “Thanks for disproving your own story Draco.” He said very smugly, to Malfoy’s confusion.

“What?” was all he could ask after that, he was completely lost.

“If I called her a mudblood that’d be quite hypocritical wouldn’t it?” Y/N said even more smug than before. The Grin on his face went from cheek to cheek by this point. It took everyone a second to realize what he said before they all looked at him shocked.

“You’re…?” Hermione was the only one who spoke, looking up at him curiously. He didn’t bother clarifying however, he just laughed again and stepped out of the seat he was still standing above.

“Thanks for my book back, Neville.” Was all he said before he walked off, out of the hall. Leaving everyone to their shock. Truth be told he didn’t know if walking out was allowed, and he also didn’t know if it was a good idea considering the hunger he felt later that night, but it was worth it for the dramatic exit.

Malfoy eventually stormed off grumbling to himself and his lackeys, leaving the Gryffindors to their confusion. Neville was the only one who spoke up, “I thought he seemed a bit nice for Slytherin, no wonder.”

They all seemed to share similar sentiments. Hermione was the one who felt mostly relieved however, she would have felt very stupid if after all that he turned out to be a blood purist like Malfoy. She felt quite happy at the fact that there was another muggle-born she knew, though the fact he was in Slytherin did somewhat concern her.

“Guess that explains why he was so annoyed at us for talking bad about him for being in Slytherin,” Harry spoke somewhat glum. Not only had they been accusing someone they didn’t know just for their house, but they were also accusing someone who was likely not even welcomed by his house for his blood. Talk about a bad combo.

——————————————————————————————————

In hindsight, telling Malfoy that he was a muggle-born to win an argument may have not been Y/N’s best idea. Even before the end of the day, it seemed like the news had managed to travel throughout the whole school by the time he settled into his bed. It took barely 5 seconds after entering the common room for the first insults to start getting thrown his way. The hate came from seemingly everyone, no one seemed to oppose it at least.

He didn’t stay in the common room for long after that, quickly moving away to the library. It ended up being a good choice as he managed to survive the rest of the time before breakfast without anything else being said. The brief period of peace did not last when he entered the great hall, however, immediately having some snide comments from Pansy Parkinson. There were some looks from the other houses too, though those were at least not directly giving him any trouble.

A particular group of Gryffindors looked at him particularly closely as he picked up some toast and quickly left the great hall again.

“I hope that blows over for him quickly,” Neville said, looking back down to his food as Y/N left.

“With Malfoy? I doubt it,” Harry voiced his doubt. The rest of the group seemed to share his sentiment as they went back to their food. Hermione was still thinking about what had happened yesterday. Malfoy claimed that Y/N insulted them behind their backs, particularly her by calling her a mudblood, but if he was also a mudblood surely he had no reason to use that as an insult.

She stood up suddenly, surprising the rest of her friends. When she stepped over the bench and turned to walk away without saying anything Ron spoke up.

“Where are you goin’?” His tone wasn’t particularly aggressive but it certainly wasn’t happy either.

“I still need that potions book off him.” She said, with less conviction than she thought she had. Thinking about it, she didn’t exactly have to go get it now and could easily just get it during potions later, which they both shared. “And I want to see if he’s okay,” She said that part more as a mutter, but the others still heard. Ron particularly seemed displeased with this.

“Really? You’re gonna go check on him even after the shit he said?” he seemed genuinely surprised at the concept. Harry nodded as Ron spoke, clearly sharing some sentiments.

“I thought you two of all people would understand what it’s like to be picked on, especially by Malfoy,” She responded with an annoyed huff as she stormed off. How could they just treat Y/N like he deserved to be bullied for his heritage? Sure he had been somewhat unpleasant during their first talk but he seemed to be the opposite of what a Slytherin usually was like the rest of the time, what with helping Neville, and the conversation they managed to have after runes class yesterday.

Finding where he had gone wasn’t too hard for Hermione, he had left a literal breadcrumb trail with the toast he was eating. Eventually, she ended up in the library, which seemed pretty obvious now that she thought about it. There weren’t exactly a lot of other places available that this time. She saw him sitting at one of the desks on his own after searching the library for a moment, deciding to just walk up to him casually she pulled one of the chairs at his table out and sat down, surprising him.

“Oh, uh, hi?” he awkwardly whispered, looking around himself quickly.

“Hello,” was all Hermione could think to respond with, completely forgetting why she came here in the first place. They both just stared at each other for a few seconds before she suddenly remembered she had to say something else. “Um, I was wondering if you were done using Dr Mardovia’s healing tonics and treatments?” Choosing to leave out the fact she was also checking if he was okay after all the abuse he seemed to get in the great hall.

“Right, yeah. I finished my notes earlier today. The books back in my dorm though.” He stated, checking the watch in his hand he quickly added. “But if I go fast I could probably get it before classes start.” Standing up quickly pushing his chair back in and grabbing the book he was reading. Hermione also quickly stood before realizing she probably shouldn’t follow him to his common room, he probably wouldn’t want to get in trouble for showing her its entrance, even though she already knew.

“We have potions together later today so I guess you could give it to me then?” she seemed unsure.

“I mean, you could just come with me now.” He replied, starting to walk out of the library as Madam Prince started to usher them out of the library for talking.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get in trouble for showing me where it is,” She said back worriedly, but Y/N just laughed.

“What are they gonna do? Take away house points?” he just smirked at Hermione who was starting to get flustered with the whole conversation. “Trust me, I’m over Slytherin by this point.” He began walking again, Hermione hesitating before jogging to catch up and follow him.

It didn’t take them much time to reach the Slytherin common room entrance. Then Y/N surprised Hermione by saying the password straight away, right in front of her. She didn’t exactly know if it was against the rules to do this but she was certainly shocked to see his complete disregard for secrecy. He walked straight in, before turning back to her and seeing her stand at the entrance unmoving.

“You can come in if you want. There’s no one else here.” He watched her for a moment before shrugging and turning back to walk towards the boy’s dorm entrance. She debated it in her head before quickly following again. If this had turned out to be a trap she’d have fallen for it hook line and sinker, luckily it wasn’t, but she was starting to berate herself for being so careless. “I’ll be back in a second.” He disappeared out of view and she was left alone in the common room.

Now that she really thought about it, if anyone else showed up this would look particularly bad. She was just glad professors didn’t go into common rooms without a specific reason, if she was caught here by Snape she’d probably have a heart attack. Fortunately, that didn’t happen and Y/N quickly returned with a thick book in hand.

“So I just checked and this actually is due to be back in the library today, and considering we have like 5 minutes before classes are meant to start I don’t think we’re going to manage to get it swapped over in time.” He told her, disappointment starting to show on her face before he quickly added. “I’ll still give it to you though, just maybe during lunch. We could meet up in the library.” He spoke a bit quieter looking away from Hermione as he did so.

“That works for me, I can still get some reading done before potions today.” She smiled, which he returned once he turned back to look at her. That was when the door to the common room opened again and the person both of them least wanted to see walked in. Malfoy spotted them immediately and his face was sent straight into a sneer as he walked in with his goons following closely behind.

“What do we have here? Looks like the mudbloods are already bonding over their dirty blood. Did you break in Granger? Or did L/N smuggle you In?” he smirked as he spoke, Crabbe and Goyle both snickering as they waited for the other Slytherin to respond. Y/N didn’t say anything though, he just looked at Malfoy. “Cat got your tongue? Are you going to say anything? Maybe if you apologize I won’t report you to Snape, I’m sure you’ll ge-”

“You talk too much Draco.” Was all Y/N said, interrupting Malfoy who recoiled in a mix of shock and disgust as Y/N grabbed Hermione’s arm and pulled her out of the common room? Leaving Malfoy red and seething as he stared at the entrance.

Once outside the common room Y/N let go of Hermione’s arm and turned back to the entrance as it closed. “Thanks,” she said quietly as they both started walking away, expecting Malfoy to quickly follow and wanting to avoid his presence for now.

“Don’t mention it. I’m sure Draco will do that enough himself.” He sounded slightly bitter. “Sorry to get you involved like that might have been better if you waited outside. At least then he wouldn’t have something to tell Snape about.” His tone quickly became apologetic.

“If I was outside then he probably would have accused me of something anyway, and I wouldn’t have someone to shut him up for me.” She said smugly back to him, a hint of genuine appreciation to boot.

“Trust me, annoying Draco is my pleasure,” he said with a smirk as he stopped next to the outdoor exit, Hermione stopping and turning to him too. “I guess I’ll catch you at lunch?”

“Yep, library?”

“Yep,” they both smiled at each other for a moment, before going their separate ways to class.

Y/N’s first class seemed to drag now that he had something he was looking forward to. Did he say looking forward to it? Well, when you’ve been dealing with the snivelling bullies of Slytherin for long enough any interaction with someone else is something to look forward to.

Hermione seemed to be feeling the same, though she tried to justify it by claiming she was just excited to finally read the potion book she’d been looking for. Luckily she didn’t have to deal with Ron or Harry in Arithmancy so she could go a few more hours without explaining why she seemed to be a bit happier than usual.

Eventually, lunch did roll around and Y/N quickly made his way to the library to wait for Hermione, truth be told he didn’t know if she was just going to show up for the book or if they were going to be studying together. Either way, he’d likely be spending this whole lunch in the library, maybe he’d go to the great hall in the last few minutes to see if any food was left to grab.

Getting to the library first, Hermione looked around to see if she could spot Y/N before deciding to just grab a seat and wait for him to show. Though once again she was somewhat questioning the legitimacy of this meeting, perhaps she was still being a bit too careless with this. Luckily that thought was quickly squished when she saw him walk through the doors, spotting her quickly and making his way over.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said quietly, to which she just smiled slightly. Pulling out the book Y/N hesitated before handing it to her. Hermione took it excitedly and almost immediately began swiping through it before catching herself and looking back to Y/N, intending to thank him but seeing him on the brink of talking again she held herself back. “I was wondering, maybe, since I’ve already read it, I could maybe help you with it? If you’d like that, I’m not sure if you’re a solo reader, I kno-”

“I’d like that,” She just said coolly, stopping his rant. He stayed quiet for a second before nodding, a ghost of a smile gracing his face.

“Okay cool,” he whispered and realizing the awkward angle they were sitting at he quickly moved his seat around to be sat on the same side of the book as her.

They managed to get a few pages in before Hermione spoke about something other than the book itself. “How are you handling the ‘Mudblood’ hate?” she used air quotes when saying mudblood to apparently show how she thought of the word.

“It’s not that bad, the insults at least. The worse part is now I’m getting dirty looks from even the Slytherins. At least before they’d just ignore me.” He seemed very calm about it while Hermione was almost outraged. She’d been dealing with hate for her heritage for her whole school life so she knew how bad it could be, but considering the fact, there were also people hating Y/N for being in Slytherin it seemed much worse for him.

“Well, you’re fine in my books. You are a prime example of a good Slytherin student.” She spoke with a voice she hoped was reassuring. Y/N went slightly red from the compliment, muttering a simple thanks in return, as they both got back to the book.

Hermione ended up being very grateful for Y/N’s assistance as it turned out Dr Mardovia was quite passionate about his work. Which meant he’d usually have a few words of useful information and then a few paragraphs of useless drivel about whatever he was describing. Y/N, having read the book already, knew where these parts were and they could easily skip them and get back to the useful information.

By the time the end of lunch bell rang both of the students were surprised, it felt as if the lunch had passed by in seconds. Y/N took back the book gingerly and looked apologetic as he spoke, “Sorry, guess I got distracted. If you still want to we can try getting here before curfew and swap it over to you then?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s okay I was just as distracted, is a very interesting book, ignoring all the pointless stuff.” She replied with a smile on her face, as they both walked out of the library she spoke again, “We have double potions now don’t we?” when Y/N nodded at her she continued, “well then, we can just sit together and I can use the book that way.”

“That works for me. But do you think the rest of your friends will mind?” He asked. From how their interactions seemed to have gone so far this felt like a slightly bad idea and he didn’t want to end up causing more issues for Hermione.

“Well, then they will have to deal with it.” She said simply, Y/N smiled slightly at this. Even if he had only known her properly for a day or two she already had been nicer to him than anyone else in the school during his whole stay.

As they arrived at potions class Ron and Harry both looked surprised to see Hermione with Y/N. They were even more surprised to see the pair both smiling and Hermione laughing at a joke the Slytherin had said. Neville looked quite pleased to see Y/N again and even joined their conversation as Snape began to usher them into the classroom.

The joy that was once being felt by Y/N and Hermione was quickly sapped away as Snape asked to speak to them privately. Bringing them away from the rest of the class. Malfoy could be seen watching the scene play out with an ugly grin on his face.

“Would either of you two care to explain why a Gryffindor was inside the Slytherin common room?” he asked with his trademark sneer towards both students.

“I brought her there professor, I was getting a book from my dorm for her to borrow and didn’t realize other houses couldn’t enter our common room.” Y/N quickly explained before Hermione could even get a word in.

“You may not have known, having only joined this year, but Miss Granger has been here five years. Plenty of time to learn the rules.” He spoke with what felt like pure malice. “10 points from Gryffindor, if I hear of this again it will be detention for you both,” He quickly left the pair after he said that, returning to the rest of the class who had started to become rowdy while waiting.

“Fuck, Hermione I am so sorry I didn’t think he’d single you out like that,” Y/N said turning to Hermione who surprisingly just had a smug grin on her face as she stared back.

“Oh please, 10 points is hardly anything to cry about.” She laughed out, confusing Y/N. She decided against elaborating and simply walked back to the class, Y/N following shortly after. They ended up at a table with Neville but managed to avoid Malfoy, Ron and Harry, much to the latter two’s confusion.

Malfoy ended up staring at the two for most of the class, which didn’t seem to bother them, particularly as they just worked on their own potion. Y/N brought out the potion book soon into the lesson, which Neville also ended up sharing in order to get his potions completely correct.

“I can’t believe you admitted fully to being at fault and he still only went for Hermione,” Neville said at some point during class, they had told him about what happened when he asked.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ stupid,” Even after Hermione said it was fine Y/N couldn’t help being annoyed at the professor.

“Especially since I’m pretty sure he made up that rule,” Neville added which made Y/N look at him in shock before Hermione clarified.

“It’s up to each house’s head what the policy of other students in their common rooms is. Clearly, Snape decided he wanted to be just as discriminatory as his students want to be.” This just annoyed Y/N even more, Snape had made a rule specifically just to screw with other houses and didn’t even think to tell anyone about it. Luckily Neville said something which seemed to cheer him up straight away.

“Guess that means you’ll just have to come to our common room in the future mate.” He said it so casually but to Y/N it was the most shocking thing he’d heard all day. Is someone offering to do something outside of class or studying?

“I mean won’t that be super awkward?” he said, nodding towards the table with Ron and Harry on it.

“Didn’t I already tell you about that?” Hermione said, once again smug as she began to quote herself, “Well, then they will have to deal with it.” All three of the students were smiling by this point, which was quickly interrupted by Snape coming over and insulting Neville and Hermione’s potions.

Which was even more insulting because Hermione and Y/N had switched seats and that was his potion that Snape said looked like it wouldn’t be something an ogre would drink.

After spending that first day together, Y/N and Hermione quickly became accustomed to each other. They weren't joined at the hip like Ron and Harry but they were certainly closer than previously. They now paired up often during runes class, complimented each other's potions during potions class and Y/N even occasionally sat at the Gryffindor table during feasts. Though that was often only when Ron wasn't at the table yet or had already left, he warmed up to Y/N the least out of the golden trio.

Neville and Y/N also had quite a budding friendship. While not as intense as Neville, Y/N enjoyed botany so they had many conversations about it, to the disdain of anyone else around them.

Hate still came from most Slytherin but it died down somewhat due to Y/N's usual lack of a response. The only ones who still seemed to be going full force were Malfoy and his goons. Y/N had taken to never sitting at the Slytherin table anymore, either stealing a bit of food and retreating somewhere else or sitting with the few people who didn't move away as soon as he got close.

Things would take a turn after another potion class in which Hermione, Y/N and Neville all sat together.

The agonizing two hours of potions class eventually came to a close as Snape decided to give them all an essay which had to be 20 inches long to the dismay of most who heard. Ron and Harry came over to Hermine, Neville and Y/N at the end of class as they all began moving towards the great hall. The conversation was mainly held between the golden three but Hermione would include him whenever she asked a question.

Even Harry included Y/N but much less as he was still somewhat untrusting of the Slytherin. Ron was quite quiet and didn't include Y/N in conversation at all, but at this point, it was less to make a point and simply from forgetting he was even there. Neville had left to talk to Dean and Seamus at some point.

As they got closer to the great hall Hermione seemed to end the conversation with Harry and Ron as they moved into the great hall, Hermione and Y/N staying behind as she seemed to want to talk to him before they ate, however, she got interrupted before even getting a word out.

“Going somewhere mudbloods?” Malfoy’s voice interrupted them as they turned to leave. Turning back to him they watched as he sneered with his two lackeys backing him up as always. “Hope you didn’t lose us too many points L/N.” So it had been him that told Snape about them both being in the common room, which made sense, he was that kind of coward. They turned to leave as they did before but then Malfoy brought something out from his robes and spoke again. “Maybe you won’t run away like a coward when you see I have this.”

He held a red book in his hand, it had a blank cover but was clearly worn with use. Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of it, Hermione was mainly confused but upon seeing his reaction she turned back to Malfoy, clearly, it was important.

“Where did you get that?” Y/N snapped, he sounded angry but even more, he sounded scared.

“Found it,” came Malfoy’s voice as he relished in Y/N’s panic. “I think I’ll read some of it to everyone here, very interesting diary you have.” This really set Y/N off as he pulled out his wand but Malfoy quickly pulled out his own and he pointed it to the book instead of Y/N “Ah ah ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Immediately that stopped Y/N who dropped his wand. “Good, now as I was saying,” Malfoy opened the book to a random page and began reading.

The particular entry he read was quite disturbing, it spoke of kidnappings, experiments and other things which made everyone turn to Y/N in disgust and fear. Even Hermione backed up a step. The mood changed, however, when Malfoy got to the end and read a particular line.

“Little Y/N will be going into his 4th year of school this year. Soon I will be able to tell him all about our operation, I’m sure he will be overjoyed.” Even Malfoy who once held full conviction slightly faltered as he read that line. His distasteful tone came back in full force as he started talking again, however. “Looks like your blood isn’t just dirty, it’s also completely insane.” Some Slytherin students laughed at this but most of the audience stayed silent at this point. Y/N was mortified but managed to plead with Malfoy.

“Okay, you’ve had your fun now give it back.” He tried to be forceful but his voice betrayed him as it quivered. Malfoy looked at him with disgust before a wide grin came to his face and he closed the book.

“Of course,” It was foolish to believe he was actually going to give it back but even knowing that Y/N went to catch the book as Malfoy threw it towards him. “Incendio!” The book instantly turned to ash as the spell hit it. Everyone seemed stunned before many of the Slytherin still watching began to laugh. Y/N just looked on in horror at the pile of ash in front of him.

“What on earth are you all-”

Professor McGonagall came out from the great hall, after watching the students at the doors stand still for minutes. She stopped herself talking when she saw the falling ash and Y/N on his knees in front of it, tears beginning to flow from his eyes. Hermione had gone to do something to Malfoy after the spell was cast but he quickly retreated into the crowd and was impossible to find. She then quickly crouched next to Y/N and hesitated before putting her hand on his shoulder, making him turn to her. His face just looked broken.

McGonagall ordered all the other students into the hall or back to their rooms and quickly approached the two students remaining, looking with pity at the boy. “Was he hurt?” she asked Hermione, who was clearly much more stable currently.

“Malfoy burned a book of his, I think it might have been a family member’s diary.” She added, not answering McGonagall’s question directly but she was able to understand the situation with that information.

“You have my permission to take him to Gryffindor’s common room if you wish for privacy. I will attend to Mr Malfoy shortly.” She said with a nasty tone, clearly the boy’s name left a bad taste in her mouth.

Hermione helped Y/N to his feet and began leading him to the common room. McGonagall looked down at the pile of ash and quickly cleaned it up before returning to the great hall.

It took a while to reach the common room, as Y/N was somewhat struggling to walk at his usual pace. He had managed to stop crying but his eyes were still bloodshot and puffy, tears still threatening to fall at any point. The fat lady let them in straight away not even batting an eye at the Slytherin being brought in. They quickly found a spot at the edge of the room and sat down. Hermione rubbed his back as he breathed in and out shakily, wiping his eyes a few times before they were actually dry.

They sat in silence for a while before Y/N spoke, “It was my brother’s diary.” Hermione nodded as he continued, “He’s gone now, it was the only thing I had left from him.” His voice was shaky and it felt as if he was about to break at any point. Hermione didn’t say anything, she couldn’t think of anything to say. She just waited for Y/N to keep talking, while still rubbing circles on his back. “He was a bad person, but I didn’t know that for a long time. I always thought he was a good person, he was always a good brother. Until the day he told me what he was doing.”

Y/N stopped speaking, looking up at Hermione, who just looked back at him with her soft brown eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Y/N managed to find his voice again, looking away.

“He was part of a group, they did bad things, like what you heard in the diary. When I started my fourth year he planned on telling me about it. It was a few months into the year when he found me at night and brought me into a room their group had. He started explaining what they did, and why they did it. I was terrified, my world flipped upside down.” He pauses for a second before continuing, “I ran out of the room back into the corridors, and he followed. He started yelling that I had to understand, I had to. He grabbed my arm and began dragging me back and, and-” He stopped as he sucked in a deep breath, sobs threatening to break through his voice but he managed to control himself before finishing the story, “I pulled out my wand and I just said the first spell I could think of to get him off me, it was diffindo.” Hermione gasped softly making Y/N look up at her. Her face showed her absolute horror.

“And it?” she asked after a moment to compose herself, Y/N nodded.

“It got him in the neck, he fell down right away clutching his throat.” Tears were falling from his face again and Hermione moved to wrap her arm around him now. “The reason I cared so much about the book is that I thought it would hold answers, I thought it could tell me why he was so evil. But I read it so many times and never found any answers, he must have just ended up that way.” He broke down and the crying came back in full force.

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” Hermione choked out, she felt awful for him as she pulled him into a full hug, wrapping her arms full around him as he began to cry on her shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her.

“Thanks, Hermione,” he managed to say after a moment of composing himself before the tears began to fall again. They sat like that for a while, just holding each other. Eventually, Y/N managed to staunch the flow of tears again but they stayed within the embrace, the only sound in the room coming from the fireplace and their gentle breathing.

——————————————————————————————————

Eventually, more Gryffindors began to flow into the common room. Most of them seemed to pass Y/N and Hermione without even looking, though those who did look were confused, annoyed or repulsed. Luckily it seemed as if most students wanted to go straight into their dormitories so not many stayed in the common room.

Two people who certainly seemed as if they would stay in the common room were Harry and Ron. When they had first arrived and seen the other duo sitting together Ron had made his way over with an expression showing his clear distaste for what was happening, however, after getting closer he seemed to lose steam and simply sat down. Y/N was confused by this, mainly because by the time he turned back to Hermione her face had returned to being neutral.

Harry didn’t seem annoyed with Y/N but his tone was certainly confused as he asked, “What’re you two doing here? We didn’t see you at dinner so we thought you might be in the library or something” The last part was directed towards Hermione.

“We came up here after what Malfoy did outside the great hall,” Hermione replied before Y/N could even begin to think of anything. Harry and Ron looked shocked before Hermione added, “McGonagall gave us permission.”

“We heard Malfoy incendio’d a book,” Ron said, it was a statement but the tone came out more like a question.

“It was Y/N’s brother’s journal,” Hermione replied again before Y/N could say anything, he appreciated it. He didn’t want to have to go through telling the story again. Fortunately, upon seeing the other two boy’s confused expressions she turned back to Y/N to ask, “Would you like to tell them?” Her voice immediately became much softer.

“Could you? My throat feels awful.” He responded with a small sad smile, and so Hermione began to recount what Y/N had just told her, keeping her voice down so that the rest of the common room couldn’t hear.

“Bloody hell.” That was all Ron said in response, Y/N expected more, maybe an insult but the redhead almost looked sympathetic.

Before Harry could also respond however another Gryffindor came up to the quartet. Neville went to speak but quickly stopped before he could get out a word after seeing the expressions of the four in front of him. He regained his composure after a second and spoke, “Uh, McGonagall wanted to see you two. She said to go to her classroom,” It was directed at Y/N and Hermione who looked mildly surprised. “And I heard what Malfoy did, he’s rotten. Sorry bout your book mate.”

“Thanks, Neville,” Y/N said back softly, he appreciated the sentiment. He and Hermione both stood after Neville walked away and made their way over to the entrance after saying goodbye to Ron and Harry.

The walk to the transfiguration class was quick, mostly due to not wanting to be past curfew but also because the empty hallways of Hogwarts always became eerie after dark. Upon reaching the classroom they knocked on the door and were quickly brought in by the professor and instructed to sit on the opposite side of her desk.

“Now then, would you two tell me what happened?” McGonagall asked, and after looking at each other for a second both Y/N and Hermione began to recount what had happened outside the great hall. Describing how Malfoy had taken a book from Y/N’s trunk in his dormitory, how Malfoy had read from it before casting incendio and then how he had slunk away into the crowd. “Well your story is certainly different to Mr Malfoys’s,” she spoke after a moment of silence following their recount of the story. The duo looked slightly shocked at the professor after.

“Do you not believe us, professor?” Y/N asked with some amount of desperation in his voice.

McGonagall let out a small chuckle at this, a smirk on her face as she spoke again, “I only said his story was different, not that I thought it was more believable.” The duo brightened at this and put their full attention on her as she pulled something out from under her desk, a red book. Their eyes immediately widened at this and McGonagall just said, “It really isn’t a difficult spell, I’m surprised you didn’t cast it immediately.” Y/N simply looked relieved but Hermione held a small bit of embarrassment, she had managed to forget about that spell somehow. “I suppose it is a good thing you didn’t, as the pile of ash served as evidence against Mr Malfoy’s claims.”

“Is he going to get in trouble professor?” Y/N asked, his voice was much timider than either of the two in the room expected. Hermione expected him to be overjoyed at the idea of Malfoy getting in trouble, but the look on his face confused her greatly.

“Indeed he will Mr L/N, what he did was dangerous and entirely against school rules. I would have expected you to be happy about that fact.” McGonagall said, she also seemed confused but much less than Hermione. Y/N’s face seemed to change to one of dread as he looked down. “Is there something wrong Mr L/N?” Her tone wasn’t harsh but it held a certain authority which made Y/N shrink into his seat as his face became conflicted.

He eventually let out a tiny whisper, but neither McGonagall nor Hermione seemed to hear as the professor asked him to repeat it. “I’ve been getting threats,” it seemed to pain him to say this.

“WHAT?” Hermione shrieked at this, her face was pure shock, and a smidgen of anger. He looked up at her with a bit of shame and regret as he then turned to McGonagall who shared a shocked expression but seemed to be able to keep it retained to her face and not her voice.

“I believe Miss Granger has the right question Mr L/N, what threats are you speaking of?” She managed to regain her composure quickly and her tone turned back to the authoritative one she used before.

Y/N was apprehensive, he looked back at Hermione who had managed to calm down but still looked quite angry, though it didn’t seem to be directed at him as when she saw he turned around it shifted to concern.

“I’ve been getting letters since I revealed I was a muggle-born. They are mostly insults and empty words, but some of them are threatening to do things to me.” He didn’t go into specifics but the look on his face seemed to say enough as McGonagall didn’t even ask what they said but instead who they were from. “They never have a name, but some of them are signed… ‘From the real Slytherin’ or something like that,” he paused before saying who sent them, clearly afraid of what it would cause.

Hermione just seemed to start fuming more and more as the conversation went on.

“And why did you not come to us about these letters?” Her tone was now getting into the territory of discipline.

“I thought they might have just been a normal thing, like a hazing. I didn’t take them seriously until now I guess,” he muttered the last part, clearly embarrassed.

“Well, I can assure you that they are no normal thing and will be treated very seriously. Have you kept the letters?” He nodded at her question so she continued, “Well then, I do not believe it safe for you to return to your dormitory. As much as I am confident no one would try anything I still do not think it would be wise. I will not force you but I will offer you the Gryffindor common room as a place to sleep until this situation is handled.” Now her tone was back to authoritative but now with some amount of softness.

“I’m not sure if the Gryffindors would appreciate that,” He began but upon seeing Hermione’s expression he changed his tune, “But I guess they’ll have to deal with it.” This made the brunette grin as she turned back to the professor, who had a small smile on her lips now.

“Well then, I do believe you two should be back to there then. I trust you will be able to take him back there Miss Granger?” she just nodded at the professor as the two of them began to leave. “Oh before you leave,” McGonagall stopped them, twisting her wand as a pillow and blanket appeared in Y/N’s hands. He just looked up at her in thanks and nodded before the two of them began walking up to the common room.

When the two of them arrived back at the common room it was past curfew even for them, the fat lady eyed them suspiciously but still allowed them entry when Hermione gave the password. There didn’t appear to be anyone else in the common room anymore, the rest of the Gryffindors appeared to have retreated to their dormitories. This included Ron and Harry, who Hermione was half expecting to still be here.

“Got quiet quick,” Y/N said after a moment of them just standing in silence. He walked over to the largest couch and placed the pillow and blanket down before sitting down on it himself.

“Yeah.” Was all Hermione said in response, sitting down on the same couch as him.

They both looked at each other for a second before turning towards the fireplace. It was relaxing to just stare into the flames, he could see himself falling asleep in front of this easily. It was just the waking up that frightened him, what if another Gryffindor came down and questioned why he was there, what if one came down and didn’t question why he was there but just jinxed him without even waking him up first? His spiral into paranoia was interrupted by Hermione.

“So, are you going to sleep?” Her face almost seemed hopeful as Y/N turned to face her.

“Eh, as relaxing as this place is I think it’ll take me a while to get adjusted.” He smiled at her, he was about to add how she can go up to her dorm and get sleep but she interrupted that thought as she spoke first.

“Good,” she didn’t say anything else initially and walked over to where her bag had been placed earlier when they initially arrived in the common room after class. Returning with a book, opening it and continuing, “I have been waiting for someone else to read this with. I’ve heard it is very good.” She showed him a book called Lord of the Rings.

They read for about an hour before Hermione seemed to get a bit too tired to continue. The system they came up with was that they would each read a page out loud and then alternate. At this point, however, Hermione was beginning to slur her words together and almost dropped the book a few times.

“Hermione, you gotta go to bed, I don’t want you to pass out and fall into the fire,” Y/N said with a small chuckle as she swayed dangerously close to the edge of the couch before turning to him and pouting a small bit.

“I don’t want to leave you on your own for your first night.” She held the pout but her voice seemed genuine. It may have just been the heat from the fire but Y/N could swear he saw a slight blush on her face as she said that. He debated in his own head for a moment looking at her, truth be told he didn’t want to be alone either, but there was only one long couch so only one of them was getting a good position.

“Well if you insist on staying down here then you can take the couch.” He said standing up as Hermione began to disagree. “I’m the one intruding and making your stay down here, at least take that so I don’t feel bad.” He smiled at her and she relented but then insisted he at least get the blanket, which he didn’t disagree with.

He ended up making a makeshift mattress on the floor next to the couch, at first he was doing it closer to the fire but after almost setting his robes on fire in his drowsiness he decided going closer to the couch would be a good idea. Hermione just seemed to watch as she lay down now, the lack of sleep clearly getting to her as she fought to keep her eyes open.

Eventually, when he finished making his bed for the night and laying in it Y/N spoke quietly to Hermione who seemed to be looking down at him. “Thank’s for today. And I guess for every other day too. I know I wasn’t exactly nice at first but you-” His talk was interrupted as a finger glossed over his mouth and Hermione shushed him from above. He almost looked insulted as she giggled before speaking quietly.

“No more talky today, sleep time.” And with that, she closed her eyes and seemed to almost immediately fall asleep. Y/N felt a bit embarrassed, both at the fact he was accidentally keeping her up and the fact she had essentially rubbed her hand over his face.

He didn’t manage to fall asleep straight away, his mind was still wandering between everything that happened today. He also kept stealing glances at Hermione, she had turned the other way in her sleep and now all that he could see was her bushy hair hanging off the couch. It was one of these times he looked at her, however, that he was startled to see her staring at him.

“Hi,” he just said quietly, not even sure she was awake.

“Hi,” she responded also quietly. “Why are you awake?” she added after almost a minute of silent staring.

“Just thinkin’ about stuff, today was quite eventful.” He said with a smile, her eyes seemed to crinkle as she returned the smile. “Why are you awake?”

“Just checking you’re still here.” She said this even more quietly and she almost looked slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna run off randomly in the night.” He could see that his words didn’t particularly soothe her worries so he got a bit bolder with his actions, “Gimme your hand,” she quickly dropped her arm off the couch for him, quicker than he expected. Slowly he intertwined their fingers so that they were holding hands. His face quickly grew red, and so did Hermione’s but he couldn’t see that, but neither of them pulled away as Hermione then started swinging her arm a small bit. “Just so you know I’m still here.” He whispered barely audible, and he didn’t know if he was justifying it to Hermione or Himself.

Either way, she had no issue with it as she quickly fell back asleep, a smile on her face that he couldn’t see. He slowly managed to relax and eventually closed his own eyes as sleep quickly overtook him.

Both Y/N and Hermione were early risers, which was very good as that meant both of them managed to wake up before anyone else had even gotten into the common room. This didn’t stop them from being embarrassed by themselves, however.

Y/N woke up first and was initially confused why he was staring at the Gryffindor ceiling but after one attempt to move his hands later, he remembered everything that had happened. Quickly his face went red at the fact he grabbed Hermione’s hand in his sleepy state. He initially considered trying to pull his hand out of hers but after seeing her start to stir he froze and just lay still while she woke up.

Hermione went through the same confusion as she woke up looking around before her eyes found Y/N’s. She also froze for a moment before they both looked at their hands, and neither pulled apart as they both sat up. Neither of them looked at the other.

“Did you, um, sleep well?” Y/N asked awkwardly after a moment with a hesitant smile on his face.

“Y-yeah, did you?” She replied a small smile on her face too as she turned to him.

“Mhm,” he nodded. Looking back at their joined hands they finally separated them letting out a small laugh each. “Sorry about that I just sorta did it without thinking.” He said with a crimson face.

“No it’s okay, you were just reassuring me.” She smiled her face scarlet.

“Oh, so you remember that talk? Thought you might have just been sleep-talking, heh.” Y/N laughed. Both of them fell into silence after that, a slightly awkward one. “Thanks for staying down here with me.” He finally said.

“Of course, what are friends for.” She smiled shyly at him. It was the first time they had affirmed their friendship, and already Y/N was wondering if that was all he wanted by this point.

Unfortunately, their moment together was interrupted by a redhead coming downstairs.

“Why’s your boyfriend sleeping on all our seat cushions?” Ginny asked, her previously confused face twisting to one of smugness as Hermione quickly grew even redder.

“Ginny!” she wailed, though she quickly adjusted her volume after realizing it was still quite early.

“I don’t hear you denying it,” Ginny smirked even wider before quickly dodging the pillow that was thrown at her. Quickly after that Hermione stormed off upstairs, but not before taking a glance back at Y/N who was still sitting on the floor. They smiled at each other before she retreated to her dorms, he assumed to get freshened up.

Now that it was only him and Ginny in the common room she quickly walked over to where he was now standing up. She glared at him, sizing him up before smirking and nodding to herself, grabbing one of the cushions and moving to sit down in one of the seats.

Y/N stood for a moment before walking over to where she sat, now reading a book she must have brought down with her. Sticking his hand out for her he spoke, “Y/N L/N,”

She looked at him before taking his hand and saying, “Trust me, I am aware. Ginny Weasley.” Smiling at him as he showed his shock openly.

“I’ve known your brother for almost two months now and I’m pretty sure he’d not touch me with a stick still.” Her smile grew at this.

“That sounds quite Ron-like,” this time his smile grew as he moved to put the cushions back to their seats, beginning to talk to Ginny about Ron until Hermione returned to the common room, much less red and much more casual.

This was how the next few days seemed to proceed. After Harry and Ron had come downstairs and had been filled in on what Hermione’s and Y/N’s meeting with McGonagall was about Harry immediately offered Y/N to use their bathroom and he quickly took the offer. The group then moved to go down to the great hall before being interrupted by McGonagall herself.

She informed the group after Y/N confirmed it was fine for the rest of them to know, that their investigation into the letters was ongoing and if Y/N wished he could keep sleeping in the Gryffindor common room until it was deemed safe to return to his dorm. He took that offer immediately.

The day continued normally after that. They managed to avoid Malfoy and all was going well until the night as the rest of the group went to their dorms, Y/N and Hermione were left as the only two in the common room again. Y/N once again tried and failed to convince her to go back to her dorm and once again they resigned to sleep in the common room together, this time however Hermione forced Y/N onto the couch as she took the floor.

“You made this look a lot more comfortable than it is,” he laughed and offered the couch again but she denied still. Like the time before Y/N hesitantly took Hermione’s hand into his own, and she once again didn’t pull away.

Things went on like this for quite a while, the investigation into the letters was seemingly bringing up nothing as the handwriting continued to not be a match to any known Slytherin. Not that Y/N was complaining. He went from having no friends, to having one friend to have more than he could count on one hand.

It was during one of the nights Hermione was destined to sleep on the floor that she said, “I thought it would get more comfortable after a while,” Y/N watched her for a second before talking without thinking.

“We could just share the couch,” He had said it so casually but quickly afterwards realized what he said, and looked up to see Hermione wide-eyed. He immediately regretted his words and tried to excuse himself as he became a stuttering mess before Hermione interrupted him.

“Okay,” He again snapped his eyes to her face to see her looking with a smug grin, though he could also definitely see her face was completely red. A smile came over his features as he pushed himself up against the back of the couch as much as he could. She laid down and tried to keep some distance between them but quickly found that to be a fruitless endeavour as she began to fall before Y/N grabbed her and pulled her back.

“You know, most people would find it weird for a boy and girl to sleep so close when they’re just friends,” his face was smug but also lit ablaze as so much blood rushed to his cheeks at Hermione’s proximity.

“Well,” She started but immediately stopped, muttering something.

“Well?” Y/N asked.

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be just friends,” Hermione muttered slightly louder this time, looking away from him. Y/N’s smug mood dropped slightly at that but quickly came back as he spoke again without thinking properly.

“Oh I see you’re finally sick of me,” Hermione looked at him quickly after he said that, shocked and about to correct him before seeing the smug grin on his face, and her face set into a scowl. “Ohhhh you meant something else?” When Hermione just continued to glare at him his smile dropped as he suddenly was afraid that she hadn’t meant something else. The way her face immediately became concerned reassured him though.

“No of course I’m not,” her tone was soft but also shy, the same as her eyes as she struggled to keep them on him.

“So does that mean you’re asking what I think you’re asking?” Some of his smugness came back but it was much more reserved as he asked.

“Well, that depends on if you’d say yes or not.” She replied finally breaking eye contact again and looking to the side.

He almost went to make another joke but seeing how fragile she looked while asking this stopped him and he took a hold of her hand, “Are you asking if I want to be your boyfriend?” she just nodded, turning back to look at his eyes. “Then yes, yes I will.” Upon saying this her face broke out into the biggest smile he’d ever seen on her as his face started to rival it.

“Thank Merlin,” she just said breathlessly, as she pushed her head into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, a small chuckle coming out of his mouth. There was probably more they needed to talk about but they were tired, so it could wait til tomorrow.

[eris-eveningstar]

I love slow burns really I do but sometimes fast burns just hit yk? Like, I'm reading Before the Storm (it's complete but orphaned) and it's not like super slow. They're getting together so quick compared to other fics I've read. And I love love love it. I love my fast burns. So many writers don't understand that actually getting into the relationship doesn't mean the end of a story, there are so many other issues and things in the plot that could happen and writers who can do a great fast burn have my heart and soul.

[cease-your-release]

They're Lucky to Have You

While on your lunch break, you see a familiar face. Mark Hoffman is the detective responsible for solving the murders that, unbeknownst to him, you're the one doing. (810)

Hello! This is the first chapter in a series, but since I'm horrible at slow burn, we'll have a bit of buildup and then pretty much blast right into a relationship, then have more buildup to the next steps. I may go back and add more stuff in between chapters when it's done, but hopefully y'all are okay with a fast burn instead! Also, for future chapter reference, the reader is mostly gender neutral, but is described as having wider hips, wears a dress at one point, and there are a handful of mentions of dysphoria. I'll be honest and say this series is rather self-indulgent, so may not be for everyone.

Part 1 of "Conundrum of Carnage" Part 2

Also on A03!

You find yourself sitting on a short cement ledge outside of your usual coffee shop on break, halfway between full consciousness and spacing out while looking off into the distance. In your partially-aware state, you swear you notice an oddly familiar face standing just a few feet away, though you can’t place why. After a few seconds, you still haven’t realized that you’re staring at him.

The man looks at you through the corner of his eye a few times, and eventually turns to you with a raised eyebrow. His long black coat sways a little in the subtle breeze of New Jersey’s Autumnal streets. “... Did you need something?” 

You blink a few times in response to the sudden call out, then quickly avert your gaze back to whatever’s in front of you. “Nothing.” You say with a slight shrug, furrowing your brows. “I thought I might’ve seen you somewhere before, is all.”

He stares at you with some suspicion on his face for a few seconds, his eyes analyzing you before he speaks again.  “I don’t think we’ve met." He says as he steps closer, his gaze narrowed. You also seem familiar to him, some part of his mind far back getting a sense of déjà vu from the sight of your face, the sound of your voice.

“Obviously not..” You mutter, glancing at how he’s getting closer through the corner of your eye. There’s something about his walk, the sound of leather shoes on pavement…. Then, you turn to him.  “You’re with the police, aren’t you? You must’ve been at my work when all those cops showed up to ask about those… um, murders.”

“Oh, was that you? I think I remember now.” he says, stopping his approach just about a foot away from you. “You work at that vet clinic, right?” he says, his tone lowering slightly as he speaks the last few words.

You nod, the day flooding back at the confirmation. His name is Hoffman, if your memory serves you correctly. Mark Hoffman, right?  “I’m a tech there, yeah.” you answer, eyes then falling to look him up and down. “Still sorry we couldn’t be of any help. It’s a shame, all those poor animals left without an owner.." You say, which to any regular person would be a bit odd, to mention the pets but not the people.

Mark raises an eyebrow at the comment about the pets, his expression remaining stoic as he processes what you have just said. “Yeah, really is,” he says, with his usual blank expression and tone, “Say, how long have you worked there?”

“Oh, god, it must’ve been.. five years now?” You say thoughtfully, lifting your hand to rest on your cheek as you consider it. “And then those incidents started happening only earlier this year.. I damn near quit out of fear, I’ll tell you what.” You remark with a slight laugh at the end.

He listens intently to your reply, thinking over the information you’ve just given him.  “Why didn’t you?” His voice lowers as he speaks his next line, his stance shifting slightly, tilting his head while he eyes you.

“Well, you know how the job market is right now.” You relent with a sigh, shaking your head. “Besides, they gave everyone a pay raise when the news broke. I guess it was to try and stop people from leaving, and it worked for the most part.”

“So you stuck around for a raise? Sounds like you think the risk is worth the reward.” Hoffman lets out a dry laugh as he leans back on his heels, his eyes continuing to study you, like they’re searching for something. “Then again, why are you guys even still open at all?” he says, “I mean I would’ve never stepped foot in there again after something like that happened.”

You turn your gaze back up to him, your expression as genuine as your voice when you speak. “We’re the only veterinary office for miles, we can’t just close.” You respond, furrowing your brows a bit. “People, and their animals, need us. You of all people should know what that’s like. Right, detective?”

“Yes, I do.”  He nods, and the tense atmosphere that was filling the air dissipates slightly.  “You’re right. People need their vets, and if you are one who has devoted themselves to saving their pets then they’re lucky to have you.”  He replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well.. thank you.” You say in response, almost hesitant or unsure as you speak.  Just then, you get a text from your phone. He watches your expression change. “Ah, I have to get going. It was, um… nice talking to you?”

He shifts his weight, putting his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, you too,” Mark says, nodding once and giving a small, slightly forced smile, “Drive safe.”

[sylkiddsey]

D.

After spending three hours at a café, her trying every donut flavor and him drinking coffee, they’re eventually kicked out. The place is closing and the teenage barista isn’t impressed with their behavior.

He drops her off at her apartment like a true gentleman. They stand in front of her locked door as she (secretly) takes her sweet time fishing her keys out of her purse.

It isn’t clear who leans in first. Somehow, it feels like they meet right in the middle.

This isn’t normal for her. She rarely makes a move on the first date, but then again, she already made a move the night they met.

Somehow, allowing him into her place, shedding clothes and laughing about bumping into furniture, feels natural. He finds her bedroom right away, hooks a hand around her thigh and lifts.

He carries her to the bed, falling onto her soft comforter, Matt on top of her. He tastes like roasted hazelnuts and sugar. She tells him that when he pulls his shirt off and wow…

Wow, the firefighting physique is so damn impressive. She’s convinced she’s drooling.

Maybe she’s dreaming? Maybe she never found the courage to track Matt down at Molly’s.

She hadn’t planned on showing up there. When she turned Casey down, she meant it. Yes, he’s great, but she’s cursed. Everything she touches turns to dust when it comes to romance. Destroying him isn’t an option.

Or so she thought.

The truth is, she wanted to say yes, but felt like it wouldn’t make her look good. She’s new to the paramedic game and dating (or whatever) a well respected lieutenant might make her look desperate. Worse, all her future accomplishments will be diminished since she’s with Matt.

Her plan goes to shit because her co-worker's suck. They’re bad humans who don’t respect her and here she is, not going after Matt Casey for them. They don’t deserve that.

She was so sick of men treating her like scum. Casey never did that. He’s so good so she decides screw it, she wants to surround herself in something positive and good.

Now, admiring the ridiculously good view, she thinks Rosales and his crew of pervs are obsolete.

“Are we moving too fast?” He asks.

Not fast enough.

She sheds his belt, grabbing his hips and pulling his whole weight down on her.

She’s pretty certain she blacks out from ecstasy because next thing she knows, she’s waking up in her bedroom, tangled in sheets and still damp from last nights activities.

She stretches her arms out, hands landing on her rumpled comforter and not Matt.

Wait.

Sylvie lifts her head from the pillow and sure enough, Matt’s not snoring next to her.

Oh my god. Did he ditch her? He didn’t seem like the type to do that, but who knows. Maybe she misread the whole situation to begin with and he was under the impression this was a one-night thing.

She combs her frizzy hair away from her face, frowning. She didn’t just want a one-night stand. Hell, she was contemplating moving to New York over a kiss.

Now, that kiss seems innocent compared to last nights events.

Dang it.

She collapses into her pillow, groaning a little into the fabric. How is she supposed to forget last night?

She’s drifting somewhere between almost asleep and awake when she hears her coffee maker ding.

She lives alone.

“Good morning.”

She lifts her head, rubbing her eyes. Matt’s sitting on the edge of her bed, two coffee mugs in hand. He’s fully clothed and looks like he’s been up awhile.

She blinks, hard. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replies. He sets both full mugs on her nightstand. “Did you think I snuck out?”

She really really did. Thank god she was wrong. She pushes herself up right, leaning against her velvet headboard. “Well, you weren’t next to me so…”

“I made coffee,” he explains. “I hope that’s okay.”

Like that wouldn’t be okay? He made her morning coffee in bed. That’s heavenly. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

He places her drink in her hands. “Based on the amount of coffee creamers and sugars you had…I took a gamble on how you like it. If it sucks, I can make a new cup.”

She brings the mug to her lips, sipping the warm drink. Holy cow. She’s never made her coffee this good before. She adds secret coffee wizard to the many appealing qualities Matt has.

“This is so good,” she hums, eyes closed. “Thank you.”

“Glad you like it,” he replies. His hand brushes against her under eye with a feather like touch. “You have some mascara on your face.”

Of course she does. It’s not like she had time to wipe her make up.

“I have a construction job in an hour so I have to go soon.”

Right, they can’t live in this magical bubble forever. They both have lives.

“Okay.”

What does that mean for them? Is he leaving and that’s it? Does he want to see her again? Was last night a onetime thing?

Sylvie plays with the tag on one of her pillows. “So, not to be that annoying girl who immediately wants assurance, but…is this a regular thing?”

He thinks about her question for a second. The waiting makes her nervous, but she doesn’t want to push him.

“Yeah, I’d like it to be,” he finally says. “I had a lot of fun and I don’t do that often. I was hoping you did too.”

She nods a little too eagerly, nearly spilling coffee in her lap. “Yeah, I did too. A lot of fun.”

“Good, so we should do it again,” He winces, shaking his head. “Not the sex. I mean, we can, but I’m not saying I just want the sex. A date. I want to keep going on dates. Jesus…”

She laughs, closing the distance between them and kissing the corner of his mouth. “Another date sounds wonderful.”

“Okay, good.” His hands curls around the small of her back, rubbing his hand up her spine. “You free tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah…is that too soon?”

No, not at all. She’s just kind of baffled by all of this. It’s sweet he’s so eager to see her and the feeling is very very mutual.

“Not at all. I’m free,” she explains. “I have to help my friend Olivia move out of her exes apartment, but I should be done by four.”

“Great. My job should wrap up by three. How about I pick you up at five and take you to dinner? There’s a great pizza place not far.”

She’s been craving a deep dish so his suggestion is perfect. “Ooh, yes to pizza. Also, maybe we could stop by Molly’s after?”

He laughs, squeezing her hip. “You just want to hang out with Stella, huh?”

Guilty.

“So so much,” she grins, batting her eyelashes. “I’m in desperate need of girl friends in the CFD.”

“Okay, we’ll go to Molly’s,” he agrees. “But only if you swear not to abandon me for Kidd. I met you first.”

She grabs the collar of his jacket and kisses him, this time deep and slow. She wants him to know she does really like him and no badass firefighter chick will ruin that.

“I promise,” she whispers, examining every one of his features. His eyes look more blue this morning. They almost looked grey-ish in Molly’s dark lighting, but with the sun peeking through her windows, they’re blue. His hairs longer in the front, not combed back in any capacity.

He’s so very cute.

“I really did have a lot of fun, Sylvie,” he says, eyeing her with that same look that led them into her apartment. “And I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight.” She repeats.

They both don’t make any move to leave the bed. She has a feeling he doesn’t want to go.

She doesn’t want him to either.

“Okay, I really have to go now.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

He gives her a look. “Oh, but you are.”

She moves her hands off him. “Well, I’m not trying to.”

“That’s the problem.”

Honestly, she has to get up too and get ready to meet Olivia for breakfast before they start moving to her new place.

[tahpouha]

Should I start translating one of my fanfics and publish it here? Is a fast burn with my pretty boy Sugawara Koushi

[underthestarlight1]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Joyce Byers, Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Argyle (Stranger Things), Jim "Chief" Hopper, Steve Harrington's Parents, Wayne Munson Additional Tags: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin, Mutual Pining, Steve's Pov, Stylist/ Personal Shopper Steve Harrington, the party, Christmas, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, upside-down, no one dies, Fluff and Angst Series: Part 1 of The Personal Shopper and the Rockstar Summary:

Most of the time Steve Harrington loves his job as stylist and personal shopper for the rich and famous. This isn't one of those times. Eddie Munson, the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, one of his best friends and his oldest client, just contacted him to buy Christmas gifts for his new boyfriend. Only problem is that Steve has been in love with him for years. How is he going to handle buying lovely gifts for the love of his life to give to another man?

[univvrse]

the coven

reader x bakugou x shinsou x kaminari x kirishima

Coven- a formation of at least three or more vampires He told you they were dangerous- why didn't you believe him?

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.6k words

Your whole life had been ordinary, perfectly normal to the extent it had almost been boring; something was missing. You had just moved out of your parents house and in fact the whole country- you had just moved to Japan from America, desperately longing for independence, something new. Something exciting. And most certainly, if something exciting was what you were looking for- you had picked the right town:

Tonight was one of the nights where you just couldn't get to sleep. They weren't uncommon. You had already flipped your pillow over multiple times and so both sides were feverishly warm. You quickly checked your alarm clock that sat on your bedside table; it read 03:46. Even though, you had left your hometown in the hunt for something fresh- you missed your old home- the sun, the people and most importantly the life that you had left behind.

Maybe a walk would help you use up enough energy to help you get to sleep. As quietly as you could manage (not wanting to wake your new neighbours) you sat up and heaved your legs over the side of the bed.

You walked across your room, grabbing a jacket from the bedroom floor as you went. You pulled on your jacket and quickly stopped to pull on a pair of jeans that were lying haphazardly on the floor. You grabbed your phone from where you earlier had put it on the side of your bed and put it into the pocket of your jeans.

Swiftly, you walked down the stairs, grabbed keys as you walked and stuck them into the keyhole of your front door. You shivered at the unexpected draft as stepped outside. You quickly shaking of the original shock and began to walk.

Once you had closed and locked the door behind you, you stepped out into the darkness. You shoved your key into your jean pocket. You began to walk across the paved, concrete streets of your new neighbourhood. The cold air stung and bit at your face as you walked. It was dark, lit only by a few dim street lights and the moon. You walked for what felt around 10 minutes until you reached the gathering of trees near your new home.

You were surrounded by tall pine trees. With only a path stretching out deeper and deeper into the unlit wood. It was creepy to say the least.

Trying to ignore the cold, you walked along the concrete path that stretched along as far as you could see. The silence was deafening, with only your quiet footsteps and the slight wind rustling through the trees. You eventually sat down on an old bench, the structural integrity was questionable as the wet wood seemed to be rotting at the base of the legs

You pulled your feet onto the wood and your legs against your chest before looking up at the night sky. It was a clear night, probably why it was so cold, and you could see all the bright stars above you. The moon was nearly full, bright and you found the light strangely comforting.

You decided that you would only sit there for a few minutes before you would head back home to try and get some rest.

However, you were sat there for who knows how long before a purple haired boy who seemed about your age approached where you were sitting. He was . "This seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the empty seat next to you. "Uh well no but-”

“What are you doing out so late?" the boy asked interrupting you and sitting next to you.

"Couldn't sleep." you mumbled, just loud enough for him to be able to hear you "I assume you're the same?"

He chuckled slightly "Well you could say that. You should be careful; you never know who could be lurking in the dark”. He smiled, flashing his teeth. They seemed oddly sharp; you frowned. “What’s your name,” you asked desperately trying to change the subject. “Hitoshi”. It was odd, that sounds like his first name, something reserved for those close to you in Japan. “You?”, he asked the question with intent. You swallowed, “Y/N”. You gave him your first name, hoping to match his energy.

“So, why didn't your parents try and stop you coming out so late tonight?" he asked staring at the sky. "I live alone actually," you laughed awkwardly, surprised at your openness to tell a stranger of this fact; "I just wanted to burn off some energy." “Interesting”, he smirked, showing his sharp canines to you again.

“Your parents don’t care you're gone?" you asked "No, they died a long, long time ago actually.” He let slip. “Oh, fuck I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be it was a long time ago," he paused, clearly thinking of how to change the subject, you could almost here the cogs turning in his head. "I've never seen you round here before."

"Oh I just moved here, I live up in apartments on 8- I just moved from America ." you gave the stranger almost your exact address without a second thought

"Ah, I see," he paused "well sorry but I have to go meet my", he paused for a moment, deciding what word to use; "friends." You sighed, you had been hoping to make a friend in this strange, new town. "You can come; if you want to that is?"

"Oh: yeah that would be great”, you replied not caring that you had barely met him. You were intrigued by him, drawn to him almost.

He stood quickly and offered his hand to help you up. You took it, his hand was ice cold. The coldest thing you had probably ever felt. You shuddered, as he helped you stand. He realised his error. “Oh, shit sorry, I get really cold at night”. He said without even the slightest hesitation, yet something inside you told you it was a lie. Still, you followed him through the winding, seemingly endless streets off the forest. While you walked, he told you about his friends.

“Okay so there’s: Katsuki, you have to be careful around him, okay? He’s like freakishly strong and has the shortest temper, Eijiro’s really nice actually just don’t be a total dick and you’ll be fine. Denki’s cool but kinda creepy, I guess- that's probably not the right word- he's not so bad actually”. You listened intently until he went silent again.

"So Hitoshi, there was other benches in the park, why'd you want to sit next to me” "You can see the stars the best there," the purple haired boy said quickly, almost maliciously but yet you didn’t see it as such. "You're pretty too", he added with a glance in your direction.

"Oh thanks", you replied, not sure of what to say. Eventually, you reached a small clearing in the forest- there sat three boys. All incredibly attractive- to say the least.

“Yo fresh meat!” a red spikey haired boy called as you approached; his skin was pale, almost as pale as Hitoshi's and his read eyes shimmered in the light of the moon. From where you stood, his skin looked perfectly smooth without a blemish or imperfection. Thinking of it, all of their skin was. Fair and undeniably perfect. Hitoshi grabbed your hand, interlocking your warm hand with his cold skin. All of them stared at you with something that almost seemed like hunger for a moment until Hitoshi spoke up. “This is Y/N she’ll be hanging out with us tonight. Be nice.”

“Can we-” one of the blondes said. “Not a chance” Hitoshi growled. You had no idea what the blonde haired boy had been asking but you were now anxious to know. They all looked at you as if you were something to eat.

“Why bring her then?” The other blonde said. He had piercing red eyes that glinted in the light of the moon. “I think you’ll like her.” the purple haired boy said.

They realised that they had been staring and quickly averted their attention towards each other as you sat down with them. Hitoshi looked at you and stared into your eyes for a few moments as if he were about to say something. Before he could the red haired boy spoke up.

“So, Y/N you afraid yet.” “No, should I be?” you asked a forced smile forming on your lips.

"Aren’t you afraid what a group of guys like us are going to do to you all alone in the night when no one else can hear you scream.” “No.” you replied swallowing down your anxiety, you hadn't at all thought about that possibility until you brought it up. “Brave.” The red eyed blonde said, inviting himself into your conversation.

“I’m Denki.” The other blonde said, it rolled off his tongue as if he had done this a thousand times before. “Eijiro,” the red haired boy introduced himself, leaning over Denki to offer you his hand to shake

You took it, his hand was as cold as Hitoshi’s had been. “That’s Katsuki.” He said nodding at the red eye boy who had yet to introduce himself. “Don’t bother talking to him he doesn’t like talking to,” he looked you up and down “people who he says ‘suffer from the disease of mortality’. “What do you mean, like you guys aren’t human or something,” you sniggered. They all burst into laughter. The red haired boy raised a single eyebrow.

“What did Hitoshi not tell you”, Eijiro said to you, you shook your head. Hitoshi sighed; "well then let’s just say we’re- oh what do humans call us.” He paused for a moment.

“Vampires."

[raccoonfallsharder]

nemotia.⋆☁︎ :･꧂ preview [est feb 29] ✩

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 1/?? | wip | word count: pending.

She sits with them and presses the heels of her hands deeper into her eyes, and she tries to imagine the scent of the flowers, the feel of the grass between her fingers and toes. She traces the letters and the tops of the stones, smooth and sharp-edged.  And then, on the back of one bare shoulder, she feels that burn again: hot, scalding. Before she can even look around, the escaped wisps of curls at the nape of her neck suddenly shift. Her head snaps up and she whirls on one hip, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. “Who’s there?” Maybe no-one, she reasons — but if that’s the case, there’s also no-one to mock her for her fear. She knows she looks afraid: eyes big in her face, lips parted. She should hide it. She should. Instead, she holds her breath, and waits, but only the thunder answers in the dark. Then the light shifts on the floor, and she realizes the rain sounds different. She tears her eyes from the dark corners. The window is open. How? She’d traced every edge, looking for a crack or crevice, a lock, a lever — but now it’s open, swinging lightly on its hinges. Fear unfurls in her chest, and it’s so warm that she presses her icy fingers to her sternum automatically. “Who’s there?” she repeats, and her voice trembles. Thunder again, rumbling — but this time, when it fades, another sound remains behind: a chuckle, dark and low. Dark and low, and very, very close. Her head snaps toward the sound, and she catches the flash of something out of the corner of her eye. “Were you watching me earlier?” she asks, and that fear licks out from her sternum to the edges of her ribs, down to her shoulders and hips. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t—” It isn’t safe, she had been about to say — but then something grazes between her shoulderblades, like a paintbrush on her skin. Her head whips to follow it and she twists, eyes wide, lungs desperately trying to haul in air like stones up a mountainside. “You can’t — don’t touch me. It’s—” Dangerous. Another flick of the terrifyingly-soft thing again, on the back of her hand this time.  Something is moving around her in the dark. Something is stalking her. What to do? The door is locked. The closet is an open mouth of blackness in one wall, but she can’t barricade a sliding door. The open window had been a nice fantasy and she’s not ruling it out, but her curiosity is at war with her fear and she wants, more than anything, to make sure this creature or person gets out.  She knots her fist in the draping silk, gaze sifting through the shadows. Another flash of something her eyes can’t follow. She rises slowly to her feet, and reaches for the candle, and lifts it high. For a moment, there’s nothing. And then, in the dark shadows at the corner of the room, two perfect points of brilliant red gleam in the darkness: flat glowing coins, clouded with crimson. Twin blood-moons. Eyes.

chapter one [est 2/29] ✩

꧁･:☁︎ ⋆. cicatrix .⋆☁︎ :･꧂

wyndham’s bride lands on counterearth in time to prepare for her wedding. an unexpected guest arrives. warnings: discussion of non-sexual child abuse and grooming. brief mentions of suicidal ideations. animal/pet death. canon-typical violence.

inspired by mary shelley’s frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs. 

enemies-to-lovers (as per frickin’ usual, only one of these idiots think they’re enemies, and tbh the enemy part is pretty short-lived.) while the beginning of this fic is dark (please check warnings for each chapter), we always get happy endings here. most chapters will contain super-smutty commentary at the very least. this fic is a longform expansion on wyndham; or, the galactic prometheus (day 31) of °˖✧♡kinktober 2023.

much like Window Across the Galaxy ✧*:･ﾟ , this fic is pure wish-fulfillment. i'd like a sexy space raccoon to rail me and then let me be stupid-sweet to him.

WARNING for dubcon/hate-sex (at the beginning), mentions of childhood grooming & abuse (no CSA), and brief suicidal ideations. please pay attention to all ao3 warnings/tags for every chapter.

if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

some explicit statements or references ✩ abbreviated explicit sequences ❤︎ detailed/prolonged explicit sequences ❤︎❤︎

[rivendellwanderer1]

I just finished some of my first fics of LOTR (Legolas x reader)!! I started writing a fiction about Fred Weasley. Check out info down bellow if sou are interested!!

An Arrow’s Path - based on movies, slow burn Legolas x reader

Unspoken, Yet Heard - slow burn friends to lovers, Legolas x reader

What Once Was - Friends to rivals to friends to lovers, slow burn Legolas x reader

Curentlly I am working on Harry Potter fan fiction. It’s Fred Weasley x OC.

A Second First Time - fast burn, mature, explicit scenes described, original.

All of these fics can be found on Wattpad, AO3 and Quotev.

Wattpad: Rivendell_Wanderer

Ao3: Rivendell_Wanderer

Quotev: elvellon/ Rivendell Wanderer

Check some fics out!! Enjoy :)

[musestick]

Scientific Fusion [Chapter 1]

"In Love And War"

Science, magic, and the human race... Was the only thing they should've cared for.

It was what they were made for.

Birthed for...

Their parents were the two greatest minds of the human race

The Royal Scientist and the greatest magician known to man.

But all of this matters not. This human who was supposed to be the saving grace of humanity is here, on the battlefield, slaughtering anything in its path. May it be monster, man, or children in stripes. It has since grown bored with its repetitive life. Forgoing its sanity to satisfy its boredom and quell its thirst for excitement in comparison to its perfect and repetitive life.

While the once prominent scientist was busy slaughtering monsters and humankind a fellow scientist took an interest in the ordeal.

“☟︎⚐︎🕈︎ 👍︎🕆︎☼︎✋︎⚐︎🕆︎💧︎…”

(How curious…)

The red eyelighted skeleton uttered curiously.

–??? POV–

While I was looking around the torn battlefield for any interesting anomalies that could quell my boredom I spotted a peculiar sight.

A human with a psychopathic grin as they slaughtered my kind. While this scene is not uncommon during the war what was interesting was the fact they were also killing their kind as well.

“This will be quite intriguing”

I said to myself as I prepared a new experimental magic I developed.

-No POV-

A skull of a dragon appeared suddenly next to the genocidal human. Its bones were a pearly white, with two horns that protruded downwards and curled upon themselves near the end while its eye sockets held two glowing red lights within them.

It opened its skull wide showing a blinding white light fueled with powerful magic. But before the skull could set off the human dodged it quickly with inhuman speed.

“☟︎⚐︎🕈︎ ✋︎☠︎❄︎☜︎☼︎☜︎💧︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎”

(How interesting)

A skeleton appeared wearing a gold-outlined lab coat with skeletal hands surrounding him that made various hand gestures as he spoke indecipherable words.

“✋︎❄︎ 💧︎☜︎☜︎💣︎💧︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎☼︎ ☹︎⚐︎✞︎☜︎ ✋︎💧︎ ✌︎☹︎☼︎☜︎✌︎👎︎✡︎ ✈︎🕆︎✋︎❄︎☜︎ ☟︎✋︎☝︎☟︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 👌︎☜︎ ✌︎👌︎☹︎☜︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 👎︎⚐︎ 💧︎🕆︎👍︎☟︎ ✌︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎☠︎☝︎⑤︎ ⚐︎☼︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ ✌︎☼︎☜︎ ☺︎🕆︎💧︎❄︎ ✌︎ 💣︎✌︎☝︎☜︎ ❄︎☟︎✌︎❄︎ ☟︎✌︎💧︎ ✌︎ ☞︎✌︎💧︎👍︎✋︎☠︎✌︎❄︎✋︎⚐︎☠︎ 🕈︎✋︎❄︎☟︎ 💧︎👍︎✋︎☜︎☠︎👍︎☜︎.”

(It seems your LOVE is already quite high to be able to do such things… or you are just a mage that has a fascination with science.)

While the unknown monster was speaking he waved his hand. The world blinked between this world and a colorless one then finally into the colorless successfully starting the encounter.

–Unknown skeleton’s POV–

As I start the encounter with a random megalomaniac, four bright yellow buttons appear before me. From left to right, FIGHT, ACT, ITEM, and the frequently unused MERCY. I clicked the ACT button and then pushed“check”

‘Genocidal Human’

ATK 65 DEF 40 LV 9

“It looks at you unimpressed”

“Your LV is more than I expected and your stats… are abnormally high”

I say despite knowing that this human can not understand me due to their lack of magic to translate what I am saying.

“Why did it describe you as an “it” ho-”

While I was speaking the human charged at me with a blinding speed that I could not dodge.

CRACK

Sounds the side of my skull that the human hit, leaving me with a crack down the right side of my skull.

–1705 [CRITICAL]

“Damnit!”

–No POV–

The once-cocky scientist says as magic begins to leak out of the deep gash in his cranium.

Gaster looks at his stats.

Wingdings Gaster Serif

LV 6

1795/3500 HP

ATK 75

DEF 20

“✡︎⚐︎🕆︎⑤︎ 👌︎✌︎💧︎❄︎✌︎☼︎👎︎✏︎”

(You… BASTARD!)

Gaster then slams his hand on the FIGHT option.

The human’s purple soul abruptly gets pulled out of their chest. At the very next second a barge of bones of varied colors attacks them.

–73

77/150 HP

The human grunts in pain.

The human then hits Gaster in the gut with the gauntlet’s sharp claws and then his face once again.

-135

-600

1015/3500 HP

“...hah…☜︎✠︎🏱︎☜︎👍︎❄︎☜︎👎︎ ❄︎🕈︎⚐︎ 💧︎👍︎✋︎☜︎☠︎❄︎✋︎💧︎❄︎💧︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 👌︎☜︎ ☝︎⚐︎⚐︎👎︎ ✌︎❄︎ ☞︎✋︎☝︎☟︎❄︎✋︎☠︎☝︎”

( … who expected two scientists to be good at fighting…)

Gaster then summoned 50 of his experimental blasters and fired them at the human.

.

.

.

.

12/150 HP

.

.

.

17/3500 HP

The human lay on the ground without an arm while Gaster lay up against a truck of a tree missing a leg.

“Damn…monster…” The human croaks out.

“So you finally talk after an hour of fighting, human” Gaster speaks in “a manner of fact” tone

“And you are no longer speaking in gibberish it seems”

The human and monster duo sit in silence before Gaster speaks up

“Do you remember the reason why this war started?”

“of course, I do, my “Majesty” whined about continuously,” the human said the word Majesty with a mix of venom and mockery

“It was due to most of your race being ‘naturally’ prone to violence…and the fact you can absorb our souls while we can not do the same to you.”

Gaster hums “That's correct”

“Why are–” the human began to speak but then sputtered

“I'm not giving you my soul you damned skeleton!” the human says in a harsh tone

“I'm not going to ask a question that I already know the answer to, you megalomaniac!” Gaster defends himself vehemently

“You just did that, you numbskull!” the human yells back

“Well, I-hmgh” Gaster grunts as he blushes a similar color to his eyes

“Childish…” the human says tiredly

Silence prevails the conversation once again

“So skeleton, what were you going on about?”

“First my name is Gaster”

The human rolls its eyes at that comment

Gaster glares at the human

“As I was going to say, I'm about to enter a “falling down” state in which I will start to melt, unlike other monsters who would start to dust, due to the abnormal amount of determination I have,” Gaster explains

“Why does this matter” the human asks bluntly

“Because due to my determination and your magic-” Gaster began to rapidly explained

“how do you know I have magic, I haven't used it once during our fight,” the human asks with gritted teeth

“I have been watching you since you slaughtered that human and monster safe house- also don't interrupt me again.”

The human attempts to dust the narcissistic skeleton with his mind

Gaster after a short pause begins to speak again “You could be able to create an entirely new being”

“... And stop staring at me like that,” He says with a flushed face

The human ignores the skeleton comment

“What happens if this fails?” the human asks suspiciously

“You will die… but that gonna happen anyways so, get to writing human.

“Fuck off… wait writing, why?”

“This is an entirely new being, so they won't have any memories of anything.”

“They will at most keep our most prominent traits and our souls.”

“Whatever… how much time do you have left before you start falling?”

“An hour, how long until you start to rot?” Gaster smirks

“hour thirty minutes .”

More silence…

The human then brings out a small note and starts writing. A second later Gaster brings out a slightly larger notebook and begins writing as well

-15 minutes later-

“Human”

“What”

“What's your name?”

“No”

“No, what does that mean?!” Gaster asks offended

“No, as in ‘I'm not telling’ ” the nameless human states bluntly

-5 minutes later-

“Gaster”

“hmgh” the mentioned skeleton is currently pouting like a child

“stop being immature”

“...”

“Fine, it's…”

-2 minutes later-

“Wingdings…” Gaster says with a blush

“What?” the named human asked amused

“Gaster is my middle name… Wingdings is my first name” Gaster says while looking away

“pfft- I'm sorry- I” The human then began to laugh

“ugh- I shouldn't have said anything” He huffs angrily

-3 minutes later-

The two scientists continued to talk while writing everything the potential being could use to their advantage.

“So… what did you do before” The human gestures around the battlefield “This.”

“I was the Royal Scientist” Gaster ponders his next words carefully “I was also once the Royal Judge as well but King Asgore put the role out of commission after the war began” Gaster then sighs “If still had access to KR damage I would of probably of won,” Gaster says with his head up high

“huh hu, sure you would have” the human side-eyed Gaster while smirking “Anyway I was also the Royal Scientist of my kingdom,” the human said with a bored face “Didn't expect monsters have a Judge as well,” the human said parking up slightly “pretty impressive for a man named Wingdings” the human says teasingly

“Shut Up!” Gaster screams his red eyelights flaring

-5 minutes later-

“So… why do you hate your King?” Gaster asks hesitantly like he walking in a minefield (if they existed at the time)

The human's mood immediately takes a 180 “The King is selfish, greedy, whiny, and the third most annoying person I ever meet”

Gaster laughs silently “He sounds as bad as Asgore”

-25 minutes later-

During the last 25 minutes, the two men of science chatted about whatever came to their minds

.

.

.

“My parents are actually the ex-Royal Scientist and some “Great Sage”

“Talk about large expectations,” Gaster says jokingly “If one of your parents is some legendary mage why don't you use much magic beyond green magic?” He asks curiously

“What's the point of using something that is merely going to disappear in 3 years from now?” The human says bluntly

Gaster stares in shock “WHAT” Gaster screams in fright

“Yeah, due to the overuse of magic is been slowly going away but due to the war magic drain has been set in overdrive… stupid king” The human looks exhausted “Actually that's the real reason for this war, the king thought if he got rid of the opposing race magic will stay around longer” the human shrugs

Gaster looks at the human dumbfounded

.

.

.

“How did you find out magic was slowly disappearing” Gaster asks after a few minutes of silence

The human pulls a strange metal device out of his coat “Magic Geiger counter”

“huh” Gaster studies the device with interest

.

.

.

.

.

“Well, I'm done writing, Wingdings?”

“Al-Almost” Gaster says weakly while the pencil he was holding was nearly slipping out of hand

-Gaster POV-

While I was hunched over attempting to write the human I was trying to kill just nearly an hour ago leaned against my back and took the pencil I was writing with.

“Just relax you have only 5 minutes left,” they say boredly with a stoic face

I blushed madly “You bastard human I'll-”

“Shut up”

.

.

.

“Whatever…” I grunted out

We then spent our last minutes in sweet silence

.

.

.

And then soon we started our experiment.

As I started to dust, or well melt, the human then used their to grab mine and their soul out of our chest and then began to use their magic, my now melted body, and began to fuse them together.

.

.

.

.

.

.

-??? POV-

“Where I'm I?” I thought to myself as I looked around this strange place

“What's that” I thought to myself once again as I looked at an unidentifiable corpse in front of me holding to hold to leather-bound notebooks

“How do I know these words?” I asked myself like I was expecting an answer to suddenly appear.

.

.

.

“Who am I?” I ask in a daze

[priceinjection]

I want to like slow burn, i really do. i have tried very hard to like slow burn

but i am IMPATIENT and NEEDY and need things to go FAST or i’ll cry

[panzyqueen]

My three favourite tropes:

-Fake dating

-Fast burn

-middle-aged gay pirates falling in love for the first time

[tinilaufeyson]

Hey guys :))

This is the first chapter of a Dean Winchester fanfic I’m working on and possibly publishing to wattpad so this is a test run on it to see if it does well!

~Sweetheart~(Dean WinchesterxFem!Reader).

1|Bait

You woke up as the light gently cascaded over your face with warmth

Slowly blinking you opened your eyes to the sound of Bobby in the kitchen

You sat up stretching your arms out to either side of your torso

Throwing the blanket off of your body you drug yourself from the bed trying to wake yourself up after your night of tossing and turning

You slowly trudged to the bathroom to splash water on yourself to aid your tired eyes

Once you were done in the bathroom you walked back to your room to put on halfway decent clothes before making an appearance downstairs

10 minutes later…

You made your way down the stairs to head to the kitchen

Once there you saw Bobby standing by the stove

“Morning”

You say as you open the fridge pulling out a water bottle

“Morning”

He says back as he takes the pan he has to the two plates on the counter

“What’s on the menu today chef”

You say as you stare at the apron around his waist

“Oh, ha ha”

He says rolling his eyes

Taking off the apron and picking up the two plates he carries them to where you sat

He sets the plate in front of you and takes his own seat

“Ooo”

You say as you stare at the food

“Looks almost as good as me”

You say picking up your fork and taking a bite with a smile

He sighs as he lets out a small laugh

“You’re something special”

He says taking a bite of his own food

“I can’t help it that i'm just awesome”

You say looking out the window as he shook his head with a smile

“What’s on the agenda for today?”

You say looking back at him

“The winchester boys are on their way with questions”

He says with a grumble

“Why the grumble grandpa?”

You say finishing your food

“Nothing”

He says under his breath

“Oh come on you are such a sucky liar”

You say taking his empty plate to the kitchen sink

He sighs at your statement

“Well if you must know”

He starts as he glares at you

“I’m not fond of those boys being around you.”

He says as he gets up from the table

You turn to look at him from the sink

“What? Are you worried I'm gonna end up a baby momma to one of them?”

you say sarcastically as you shake your head

He narrows his eyes at you

“I wouldn’t be surprised considering how much they get around”

He says walking out of the kitchen

You turn and follow after him

“Bobby, I don't even like people around me. I’m not gonna go sleep with anyone anytime soon”

You say as you both walk into his study

“Besides, Dean hates me”

You say shrugging

You were kinda sad knowing how much he despised you

Him and his brother had been to the house before and for some reason Dean just hated you

Sam liked you being around as a voice of reason but maybe you having previously sided with his brother is what made his blood boil having you around

“I don’t care, I still don’t like it”

You smile at his concern as you both go through a couple books searching for the answers the boys were looking for as you waited for them to finally arrive

2 hours later…

You lay on your back in the middle of the study floor reading a book as bobby read at his desk

You turned your head when you heard Dean’s car outside

You heard the door open as you continued reading

“No, Sam don’t be stupid the monopoly man never had a monocle”

You hear Dean say as their voices approach the room you’re in

The boys walk in as both of their eyes fix on you laying on the floor

Dean smiles at the sight as he looks at Bobby and back at you

“What is this an open invitation?”

He says as he looks you up and down

Sam reaches his hand up and slaps the back of his head

“Hey, Y\n”

Sam says as he flashes a smile and walks toward Bobby who is glaring daggers into Dean

“So, did you figure out what this thing is?”

Sam says as Dean lingers on your frame a little too long

“Dude, I’m gonna need you to pay me if you want to see more”

You say forcing him to avert his gaze

You smile at yourself as you close your book and sit up

“I did my best and I think this is it”

Bobby says turning the book towards the boys

They all conversed about the monster and what not while you listened intently

“So, we need bait?”

Sam said looking to Dean

“Well obviously we aren't up to its standards”

Dean says with a scoff

“True”

Sam said as he sunk deep into thought

“I’ll do it”

You said as they all turned around

You see Bobby open his mouth to protest

“Are you crazy?”

Dean says before Bobby even says a word

“No”

He says shaking his head looking to Sam for reassurance

“Okay, first of all stop talking”

You say to Dean as he puts his hands on his hips

“Second of all, it’s a good idea. I’m its “type” or whatever”

You say raising both eyebrows

“Absolutely not”

Bobby says shaking his head

You step between the boys and face Bobby

“Come on, I’ll be fine and besides I need to get out of the house”

You said pleading with your father figure

“No, I don’t want a repeat of that night”

He says through gritted teeth as he starts to walk away

Sam and Dean look at eachother confused

“They would never do that and besides you can kill them if I get hurt”

“Excuse me?”

Dean says looking at Sam once more

Bobby turned to face you

“Please”

You said looking into his eyes

He sighed as he looked to the floor contemplating the suggestion

“Fine”

He said

You let out a shaky breath

“Wait a second”

Dean says as Bobby looked over at him

“Don’t we get a say in this?”

He says looking to Sam who looks to be on board

“I’m going with you, Dean, you’ll live”

You said as he grumbled under his breath

“I mean, it’s not a bad idea, and it’s our best bet so”

Said Sam as he shrugged

“Whatever”

Dean said heading towards the door

As soon as it slammed you turned to Sam smiling

“Let’s get it”

10 minutes later

Walking over to hug Bobby you told him bye and you would be back

“Love you”

You said happily as you walked out the door with a bag

As you stepped out of earshot Bobby pulled Sam back

“You watch her and you Watch her close, if she gets hurt it’s on you”

He says as Sam looks around nervously

Sam nodded and turned to walk out the door

“And don’t let your horny brother touch her or i’ll kill him”

He said with a stoic expression

Sam nodded again but more nervous than before

“Will do”

Sam said as he walked out the door and climbed into the passenger seat of the impala

“This is gonna be a long ride”

Dean said, shaking his head.